a. illustration of cosplay scenerio: Superman v. Frank Castle The Monstre' robe is wool, it's not deaf. The floor is solid and his shoes sound worn. Still, it's a fine and comfortable picture, a fire casting it's questions on the high wall. Searching for an intentional agent among the heaviest of the low apricots that he's devised. Let's suppose that the certainty of an old brown ladder is equal to the comfort of a well lit room. That the finitude he experiences is not a barrier so much as it's the threshold to a more significant scheme. Let's assume that this is a comfort to the man with his hands in his pockets right now. Straight lines are what Dewey flirts with. The order that society, or more precisely Dewey seeks within art is an ephemeral ideal. It's easily lost in the ubiquity of a loud culture of hotel rooms and dirty wigs. Dewey's conception of art is that of any ordinary tool. But it's only the wisp of the apricot cast from...