The Other Half

...and the Illinois Branch of the Institute still exists... It must. In a world going mad, in a world drowning in waves of its own cultural stupidity, in a world were the sale of one of Paris Hilton's handbags could feed a small country, in a world where polar bears could soon wind up on your doorstep because they have nowhere else to go, in a world where any chance of a meaningful existence grows fainter each day, the Institute is essential. The insanity must be met head-on. The stupidity must be exposed. The meaning must be found. It's over there, in the box. Don't look in unless you're truly ready. And remember to close it when you're done. The last time someone looked in, they left it open, it escaped, and it took me weeks to find it. It turned up in a bus terminal in Cleveland with a woman it didn't know in one hand, and a marriage license in the other. But it must be viewed, and the Institute has devoted its existence to showing it to the world. Jeff has been my beacon, sometimes my only reason for holding on on, since High School. Afternoons at Gamer's Paradise. Lunches at Orange Julius in the Yonge-Eglington Centre food-court (the ORIGINAL food court). Sketching down story ideas on pieces of toilet paper from a public loo in London's East End. Wandering Chicago's Michigan Avenue at 2:00 a.m. Available, always available, for support and assurance and righteous anger, on the Net. Here is where we must be. The last frontier of true creativity and insight. Join us.