negative creation . . . negative creation . . . negative creation . . . negative creation  
"on a whim, i looked down at my bottle cap, and instead of saying "sorry, play again" or
"instant winner", it just said, "good".  what the hell does that mean? as
if everything is so pre-determined that fucking bottle caps felt the urge
weeks ago to comment on my present state of affairs.  i feel like shit.
my stomach hurts, my eyes hurt, my back hurts.  fuck this."
--scott caligan--
 
 
On Sabatical, The World Seems Like You Should Be Checking Your Pocket Calendar. 
Our Products Help People Create But Not What You Would Expect We Don't Do This To Inspire. 
We Do This To Effectually Swab Swab the Gelatinous Ilk of Aging And Present it to be Understood
This Isn't Concearned with Forge Nor is it Considering Adaptabilty Simply Waiting Like All Congeal
Take Notice and Notice how it is Not Glamorous, but Exploding These Waning Desires are Growing
Those Bastard Little Angels Can you see What Falls Out? It's Negative Creation. The Point

When and if one of the dryers ever stopped, I planned to rush over to it with my shopping basket of damp clothes. Understand, I'd been hanging around in the laundromat for thirty minutes or so with this basketful of clothes, waiting my chance. I'd already missed out on a couple of dryers--somebody'd gotten there first. I was getting frantic....even if I could get my clothes into a dryer it would still be another hour or more before the clothes would dry....Finally a dryer came to a stop. And I was right there when it did. The clothes inside quit tumbling and lay still. In thirty seconds or so, if no one showed up to claim them, I planned to get rid of the clothes and replace them with my own. That's the law of the laundromat. But at that minute a woman came over to the dryer and opened the door. I stood there waiting. This woman put here hand into the machine and took hold of some items of clothing. But they weren't dry enough, she decided. She closed the door and put two more dimes into the machine. In a daze I moved away with my shopping cart and went back to waiting. But I remember thinking at that moment, amid the feelings of helpless frustration that had me close to tears, that nothing--and, brother, I mean nothing--that ever happened to me on this earth could come anywhere close, could possibly be as important to me, could make as much difference, as the fact that I had two children. And that I would always have them and always find myself in this position of unrelieved responsibility and permanent distraction.
                                     --Raymond Carver, "Fires"
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