It was hot, the night we burned Chrome.

It's impossible to move, to live, to operate at any level without leaving traces, bits, seemingly meaningless fragments of personal information.

If ignorance were enough to make things not exist, the world would be more like a lot of people think it is. But it's not. And it's not.

I'm often saddened and dismayed to see myself portrayed as either a Luddite or as a raving technophile. I've always thought that my job was to be as anthropologically neutral about emerging technologies as possible.

We see in order to move; we move in order to see.

A lot of the buildings [in Toronto] around Yonge and Bloor is the architectural equivalent of Kipper Ties and 8" collar points. It's ghastly and no amount of street-level retail glitz can lift it.

I've been interested in autism since I've known about it, which is more or less since I've been writing.