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Let’s take a moment to examine the complicated relationship between me and this cat folder. Or let’s not. Or let’s say that what’s really the thing right now is having the cat folder and waiting to pack it to come here, and having to pack it again. It’s strange how a place is a non-thing, or just an imagined thing, and then it becomes a thing that you are in, the every thing. This is actually scarcity, this being here, where I am, in Vermont right now and tomorrow and a little of Wednesday. This is the kind of scarcity that means it. It’s not like saying that someone is going to get the last good man, or there’s a housing shortage in New York City, or we’re running out of wine or doctors.  Scarcity is when you can feel something vanishing, slipping, and you can’t twist and rearrange and stretch to get more of it. It’s finite. It really means it.

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