I don’t even know how to properly go about beginning to cognize that chart.  I’m in awe and as such this post is more motivated by affect than intellect.  Perhaps that’s the point.   Henry James wanting to hear the sound of typing without want or care for the words being produced, the Officer’s enthusiasm and our horror towards the machine in Kafka’s “In the Penal Colony,” Bill Lee’s intimate and bodily relationship to his bugmachines; the typewriter in all its iterations and varied instantiations seems to prompt an affective response in the face of an inability to precisely ‘pin down’ definitively what the typewriter is, what it does and what it wants us to do with it.

Or, y’know, that’s kind of what I was thinking anyways.

On a related, but more or less entirely unrelated, note.  Here’s Arthur C. Clarke’s “The Nine Billion Names of God” which I think speaks to a lot of what has been said in the last couple of weeks and is just generally a lovely read.  It’s right here.

— John Casey