Oaxaca portal (photo by Lady)
“In the future, our little biosphere will be like a hamster ball,” I tell Smith. “It will have recliners, it will purify water. We can go places in it, exercise. What else could our hamster ball do?”
“Well, see,” Smith says, “I’m not into the hamster ball. I’m into the environmental suit. The suit you *use*, the ball *encases* you. I don’t want to be *inside*.”
“So it’s kinda like a philosophy of packaging?”
“And usage. There’s a bumper sticker for you: ‘Beware loose usage.’
“That sounds very enigmatic.”
“We begin in enigma, end in ambiguity.”
* * *
“Are you light handed or dark handed?”
Smith says, “Neither. Even handed.”
* * *
Smith says, “I love you.”
I say, “I love you two.”
“I love you two and 1/2.”
“I love you four.”
“I love you four and a quarter.”
“I love you eight.”
“and an eighth…”
“I love you sixteen.”
“and a sixteenth…”
“I love you thirty-two…”
“and a thirty-secondth…”
* * *
Our internet connection’s down. “You wanna go in and nuzzle?” asks Smith.
“So I’m your last resort when the electricity goes out?”
“Sure. Nothing else to do.”
“That’s how babies are made. Electricity goes out, you get babies.”
“So electricity prevents babies, is that what you’re saying?”