The continent

Soda pop was a well mapped territory. The taste fluctuated in cantor sets, the ethnicity of coke a web of spiralled hand me downs each one had been replicated in exacting detail in a render farm somewhere. He could feel the bend of a Deleuzian out there, the smugness of an analytic, all on gps points, striations curving in and out of formulai the simulator had set up. A world that gave into analysis, the mathematics of Freud, the algorithims of Hegel all out there pumping to the beat.