i'm thinking it's weird but it's not really i was emailing back and forth daily about obamaland with jeanette and i sent a poem last time and it's been several days of no reply though she may have not seen it, she had some problem her eyes, maybe it got worse, should i check, i'll just send a postcard, i know she used to appreciate the pictures, maybe she just gave up the ghost and the futility of saving the park. i was going to say something about nihilism, of the system, not me, i look at the sugar maples turning and get turned on, wait a min, i have to check my trash, here we are,
nihilism is exactly the form of anti-politics one would expect to find in this age of civic exhaustion. here the apocalypse and the end of history stand shoulder to shoulder, not as identical formations, but rather as different manifestations of a shared sense of futility.
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