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.