On Mean Earth, all kinds of previously durable infrastructure can be undermined or undone.
Consequently, the predicament of that trombonist in his woolen clothes feels increasingly familiar.
All of us may find ourselves clinging to habits that, here on Mean Earth, are losing their usefulness and power.
But imagine what it would feel like: the weight of the bearskin lifting, the heat beginning to vent freely from the dome of the head.
It would still be hot — abominably hot — but at least you’d be standing unencumbered in this world, as it is.
Persons:
we’ve, Prince William, ”