We are the skins of dead men. We collect skins. Oh, but we would cherish its skin; it has such a lovely skin... and it would live forever as a skin.
AI? What's intelligent about it? Might as well call it 'Artificial Stupidity'.
Madness string 52
The town has a sense, not of history, but of time, and the telephone poles seem to know this. If you lay your hand against one, you can feel the vibration from the wires deep within the wood, as if souls had been imprisoned in there and were struggling to get out.