Thuloid Speaks: Gaming and the Hyperreal, Part II, On the Independence of Things

Greetings again, O House. Awash of late in preparations for the day of arrival of He That Cometh, I have been remiss in my communications. Lady Thuloid has reached gargantuan proportions, and young Thuloid-to-be-Named demands sacrifice-- the Abode of Thuloid is piled high with unidentifiable bits of plastic without which no baby can be had. Once, long ago, I spoke to you of the problem of