The lateness of today’s newsletter reflects the fact that time isn’t real anymore and everything is blurring together. I almost forgot it’s Friday. But I assume you’re not about to run off to something, so any time is as good as any other to send this. The other day someone
All that is solid melts into air, all that is sacred is profaned, and man is at last compelled to face with sober senses his real conditions of life, and his relations with his kind.