FYI-I am semi involved in cyber industrial digital art project. Do you want a taste? Is there someway to amplify the inspiration of mechanical dream states without the aid of computers. I tried to remain organic however. The tyranny of large numbers (like annual salaries) tend to infiltrate my work and my psyche to no end. No matter how hard I try to Keep it simple. . Then I found Willie Bobo on the cornershop, sweatin' to the oldies while making books for antiquated educational systems of corruption, corrosion of reformity, nevermind suffrage for Mexican Americans, I in a canyon of dermis, caught between white and brown, but oh . . . "does that suit suit you?" Pardon me boy, a skin of grey is absolutely necessary to the salary adjustment program. So we meandered down a couple new, less volatile conversations, indeed. Not even knowing if we were both bluffing each other in this game called "employment". But I knew-checkmate. Behind the caucasian curtain exists a man saying, "please ignore the man behind the curtain" and "what curtain"? And what of the better men. The uber men. The everest climbers and Tour de France champs. More man than I?? HUH!! Even one-balled Lance Armstrong- YEP!! More, definitely more, man than I. I don't lay any other claims to manhood other than this chandelier (mandalier??) called genitalia. I had a dimmer switch installed just to remain sane-"Excuse me, ma'am do you have change for the male sex drive. Mine is too potent for the modern office environment". Oh wait, you mean I was supposed to leave it at the door?" And then the games-maneuvers for capturing the enemy territory, called dreams.  And when, pray tell, did the cubicle become the evolutionary means to an end of obtaining critical survival skills. The large office space replaced the savannah? The space dividers replaced bushes and trees? Is the computer the new spear? I can't fathom how our muscle and bone structure will look in a thousand years-Shit!! Can you check on the lab results. I think my brain just dropped its IP address. Mark it. The human neural system was not designed to sedately focus on 1/16 inch characters for 10 hours a day. Or maybe it is. Do you think life on other planets is better? The one saving grace in my day being a chain of other e-mail during the workday involving invites to fringe cultural events  and links to obscure latin music posted by masters of the arcane, super brainiac math geniuses with a propensity toward traditional Latin American rhythms.