This is not a blog: My salute to the perspectivalism of Shattuck's sidewalks.

Once again on my walk home from school, the pavement on Shattuck poigantly evaluates some life questions. Somewhere between Virginia and Cedar it proclaims: No Sidewalk. Am I to deduce from this that the Sidewalk is, in fact, anti-Sidewalk? This degree of self-loathing would effectivly shake the very foundations of all that our nation walks upon. OR can we infer that my pavement is merely being avante-garde, entering an artistic period, if you will? Perhaps it is only a Sidewalk because we perceive it as a Sidewalk. We are socially conditioned to believe in the existance and utility of a Sidewalk by a proverbially repressive "Man." Damn the man. OR has the Sidewalk chosen for itself a new identity, declared itself NOT a Sidewalk, thus rendering its otherwise ideally situated posistion stuck to the ground irrelevant and thereby calling into question the meaning of its life and maybe even the meaning of our OWN lives, of everything?!?! My God!

Also, in case you want to know, Roy and Steph, if you are out there, the Sidewalk has munificently declared that it loves you both, together. It has even gone so far as to inscribe your names, bound together in everlasting couplehood with a plus sign, in an indelicately rendered heart.

Wow. In all its brilliance, our Sidewalk still cares for the little people. I just might want to nominate our Sidewalk for public office.