Greg Scott Brown Unfriend A new word to explain technology's mad love for impermanence. Bugs trapped in quicksilver, no one survives our enthusiasm. This is why we tweet all the livelong effing day about who we no longer adore, attend to, or make immortal in some corner of our half-pint universe, those five-thousand intimates a click away from being unsung. Because society is work, the deep dig through inconvenient blood and bone. And, anyway, we're alone.

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