Triumph of justice or liberal coup de grâce? Gods aren’t meant to be weightless. Sender and receiver, once known as poet and audience. Everything that begins as literature ends as marketing. Would you like to see my wife’s third boob? There is something to be said for being a bad shot. One imagines Democratic strategists crossing out Barbie in their playbooks and writing in Yellowstone. P.R. is all they do. Even, to use the dread word, relatable. An age of worship caught in a lockbox. A high-stakes game of capture the flag. Gun-toting avatars of state-issued gender progress. A digital approximation of the panopticon’s punishing 360-degree view. A prehistoric terror in its tiny marble eyes. In the near future, catastrophic flares spew plasma and radiation. That’s a win. Their bones crack like glow sticks. As natural as a pigeon in asphalt. Vaporized by a drone. The airstrikes came like clockwork. Science kills but we need to be good gatekeepers.

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