...there are only 7 billion tiny dictatorships.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
A blank white expanse sears your eyes, and you squint. The horizon is a razor-straight boundary between the brightest white and deepest dark you can imagine. As your eyes adjust to this strange polar world, shapes start to resolve on the white surface below you. First, you encounter a cluster of points, and find them completely textureless. There are enough that you don’t bother to count, they’re fixed to the white ground, and seem almost a part of it. You look into the black sky and notice directly above you a light smudge, which slowly focuses into the inverse of the points on the ground.