dreamed last night that i lost the little black book that i carry in my ass pocket. in the dream it was a catastrophe, like i had lost a head. in reality there would be no great loss, though some annoyance. i worry more about losing digital content. this stuff is way more vulnerable to annihilation than printed matter. i want to talk about my predictions for the future of print publishing, but when i do i end up in the company of friends whose jobs are still in the print publishing world. they don’t care much about the future of publishing or my fantastical rants on such matters when their job is in jeopardy. i guess i might (might) feel the same way. so, no more face-to-face ravings about the future of the book. i’ll do that in my own space, in the pages of the book stuck in my left buttcheek back pocket.