This posted just recently by a treasured friend from grad school (an excerpt)
In moments like these, I’m visited by the ad for Joi, the holographic lover of the replicant blade runner called K. The generic Joi towers above me, stunningly statistically beautiful, a monument to our alienation from the material fact of ourselves. As she comes toward me, her steps make no sound. Even at her scale, she doesn’t displace the air with her movements. She carries no scent. A few feet from me, she stops and crouches to bring her eyes more to the level of mine, but because of her height she still has to look down at me. She says, “You look like a Pepper.”
Read the whole of it, Aethon, which means blazing, also gut-devouring eagle, also also a scary robot corp, do!
the art of compost 