Oh man, oh boy what a mess.

I don't know how we're ever going to get this back together.

We're going to get a pump here. This water is not going anywhere here.

We live in sort of like a bowl, like a mini New Orleans, so it's a big mess. Everything is under water. Last week it was ankle level, now it's up to hip level. All the groceries from the cupboard and the icebox is floating around.

I am struck by a realization: a computer will perform a takeoff or landing with all the grace of a person. It is only for combat—only for the artristy of ruin—that these vessels have pilot seats at all anyome. There is something in humanity more suited to the mechanics of murder than any machine yet devised.

Words signify man's refusal to accept the world as it is.