Knob

Finite snail evolved from a peg, all twist & no spiral, turning neither inward nor upward: here’s a key to our egalitarian metaphysics. The knob involves us in the machine’s unfinished business, it turns us into connoisseurs of the abstract. And hell, it’s fun to roll things between the fingers— they were made for this. The caveman in me says smash it & suck out the marrow. The Medieval peasant says splash it with holy water to drive out the small devil whose millstone it must be. But I say alas that our machines are surrendering their squat manhood to a remote.