our cities are relics of the dead, like carapaces left by ancient insects. our institutions flail and shamble from one crisis to another. our infrastructure both gleams and rots, depending on who it serves. every act seems public and performative. every thought feels like a commodity that can only be stolen. the public record includes so much data that we can resurrect the dead as digital simulacra. plenty abounds while scarcity persists.

it's a weird future.