Project to pursue banal writing proved all too successful. Finally something nobody wanted to read or hear or parse, though fully valid conceptually—a proper proposition accompanying realization humm—a project meant to show that one constant underlying writing is the reaction, mainly of enjoyment, pleasure, engagement or the opposite—polar fury. No, the project was meant to portray through negation the (un)necessity of these qualities—a vast shimmery mass of ‘text’ if it can be called that. Full in its being, just there, not needing anyone or anything—an anti-erection. The contra-Viagra. Designed to quash all arousal. But—it being such a long project how can we be sure there aren’t any interesting parts snuck in? Indeed, such thoughts prompted more hardy of the reader-explorers to push forward—I mean, has anyone ever read this thing all through? Impossible. Maybe around page 3,000 it starts to get good? Or glitches? No no no. The author—an it most likely—has been preternaturally faithful to the precepts of the project—proving another common constant: w/rigor comes success, relatively defined.