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Saturday, 29 April 2006 |
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CHOICE
This spring is short. Daffs have been dead-headed early. Arid, shrivelled wheat sings no more of bread, and demented cattle stumble through rogue summers prion-sharp. Ahead lies futures of dread where children cringe. Have we come along digital pathways to the abyss, to the ultimate mad philosophies; precise, military organisation of wide and awesome nuclear regions, infinite atomic voids where work is vapourised and people - once numbered - are deleted, superflous as dust blown away? Or can we challenge, change that which is, make imaginings like toy shops without guns - make our common dreams come true? Les Skeates
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