For Every Kind Of Vampire, There Is

He Decided That We Suffer From Great Temporal Homesickness For The Decade We Were Born In.

What Goes Around May Come Around, But It Never Ends Up Exactly The Same Place, You Ever Notice? Like A Record On A Turntable, All It Takes Is One Groove's Difference And The Universe Can Be On Into A Whole 'nother Song.

This Spiritualist, This Statistician, What Are You Anyway?

Laboring Through A World Every Day More Stultified, Which Expected Salvation In Codes And Governments, Ever More Willing To Settle For Suburban Narratives And Diminished Payoffs--what Were The Chances Of Finding Anyone Else Seeking To Transcend That, And Not Even Particularly Aware Of It?

There Is Nothing So Loathsome As A Sentimental Surrealist.