The designed world, the bought world, the ballrooms and hallways, I care very little about. When was the last time I looked at this manufactured world and marveled? I hold grudges against clubs. I forget most bars. I resist going into shops because they try to trick me into thinking otherwise.

Then I think about the way light cuts through the lip of a wave, or the silent timidity of a spider camped watching as I pluck a tomato from his home. The awe at looking at the universe way up close. And running my hands through a field and plucking a sprig and smelling it. How superior these sensations are.

I rub shoulders with the timeless world, and speak to the same brothers and sisters that my far distant descendants will. What they tell me is truth, and I try to hear it, but their language is muffled through my ears. But still I listen, because they are the closest thing I have to knowing.

60 mile manifesto

This is what will happen.
Oil will become ever more precious. And it will go to he who can pay the most. Which means you won't get any. So driving will get more expensive and soon you will find yourself latched to a 60 mile electric car. And this will be fine.

You will drive where you need to go. And squeeze it past 60 sometimes and maybe stop to charge your battery just long enough to make it home. Or perhaps your car will be cranked into the air so a guy with greasy hands can slip in a battery in the time it took to fill your old gas guzzler.

60 miles means you can't live 60 miles from where you go everyday. You will choose the fast easy way to work. It will be obvious.

But you can go more than 60 miles if you really want to. And since people will live close to their work cities won't pour all over the place. So you will get out of the city faster. And the world will get bigger and things will open up. Which means more will be yours.



And maybe with some solar panels on the roof, and a lighter design, you will get it to 70.