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He was like the Velveteen Rabbit, but on the bad crack.
Baudrillard died. Granted, he was a pretty old codger.
That silly anecdote of him cracking the window a little and sniffing at the Rocky Mountains still makes me giggle. "Ah, nature. The last bastion of the Real."
That silly anecdote of him cracking the window a little and sniffing at the Rocky Mountains still makes me giggle. "Ah, nature. The last bastion of the Real."
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