Invite death into your home
Why your happiness depends on a close relationship with death.
September 11th, 2001, in New York City, a man is taking his stack of cassettes and transferring them to his PC.
The precious cassettes are almost 30 years old, and the glue that holds the magnetic tape will degrade soon.
He can hear pocks and distortions in the audio, but luckily he got to this before it was too late. He’s been meaning to do this for years. For now, his favorite childhood music is safe from the ravages of entropy.
A boom from outside rattles his potted plants and empty mugs. He spins. Something is terribly wrong with the skyline he is so familiar with. Black smoke pours from one of the towers.
As the terror unfolds, his tape malfunctions. It begins to loop. And as it loops, the 30-year-old glue gives way, turning more to dust with each rotation. Every time the music segment plays, there is a little less of it.
A haunting melody repeats, becoming ever scratchier and more distant, as the towers of his beloved city burn and fall.
Awestruck, he records this moment.
This is now known as the Disintegration Loop (play this as you read the rest of this essay).
