Your soul is dirty; a viscous layer of digital scum clings to it like nasty petroleum-jelly fudge. You feel it accreting every time you watch MTV or pirate songs with your state-of-the-art computer. This caulk of slick materialism insulates you from the real world, the world of handmade objects and human music. Pixels never bleed because they can't be scratched or even touched. And you're in danger of becoming a pixel of who... More >>>