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One evening I was walking along
Hollywood Boulevard, nothing
much to do. I stopped
and looked in the window of a
stationery shop. A
mechanized pen was suspended in space
in such a way that, as a
mechanized roll of paper passed by it,
the pen went through the
motions of the same penmanship
exercises I had learned as a child
in the third grade.
Centrally placed in the window was an
advertisement explaining the
mechanical reasons for the perfection
of the operation of the suspended
mechanical pen. I was
fascinated, for everything
was going wrong. The
pen was tearing the paper to shreds
and splattering ink all over the
window and on the advertisement,
which,
nevertheless, remained legible.
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