This post reminded me of a scene in this book I’m reading where a building collapses and there’s graffiti on a wall of the neighboring building that could only be read after the collapse. Then, today, I peel back some contact paper on an old bookshelf from my dad’s house, and I find in pencil, under two layers of latex and on top of a layer of oil-based paint, my uncle’s name, probably from when he was about five years old! Can you feel that old synchronicity kicking in?

This is sort of along the lines of what happens in the construction trade, where masons leave their mark in mortar that will later be covered by carpenters and carpenters seal up all manner of crap inside walls and crawlspaces. Heck, even the Apple guys signed the inside of the original Mac where you couldn’t see it unless you had a special tool. The difference now is that, post-millennium, absolutely everything threatens to becomes a time capsule.