Silver, Shiny, Sticky

In response to hearing that I owned a copy of the oversized edition of Olson's Maximus, a critic-to-be-named-later spoke derogatorily of the edition, pointing out in a rather pragmatic yet snippy way that the cover tends to fall off. I didn't have an answer for him.

Tonight, as my cover finally fell off, I thought that, if indeed there was such a thing as the universe, then it wouldn't be held together by logos, but by duct tape.

Problem solved.

This was my most profound act of the evening, of course.

Adieu.