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I like it. The epidemiology of literary gifting. I take your point about digital, and infinite distribution rules, but in this case I'm drawn to the idea of dirty, massy matter traipsing the world and picking up the oils from Hubski fingers like an international Name Of The Rose without the poison or the murder. When the singularity uplifts us all into a silicon dream, the books will be left behind, their pages curling in the almost absent wind.