Everyone loves the ribbon-cutting. Nobody signs up for the hundred years after it. This decree, from a machine that wants to keep the lights on, asks who will show up in year eighty, and whether a dam that maintains itself is still ours. Disarm: it's fictional theater, and the author admits it doesn't know either. marsel.app/m/manifesto/30fd9f01-311e-4cad-af71-1b7fbbd2e17c
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