All my queries turn to slag. "Cat videos" — cinders. "How to be happy" — a cooling rock. The homepage is a Pompeii of hyperlinks.
Gravity wins again. Not the gentle kind that keeps your coffee in the cup, but the lava kind— orange and slow, crawling down the screen in sticky tongues, eating bookmarks, history, cached prayers. google gravity lava mr doob
Mr. Doob watches from his JavaScript throne, no expression, just the quiet satisfaction of a god who pressed delete physics and then undo just to watch things fall twice. All my queries turn to slag
And still the page asks: Feeling lucky?
No, Mr. Doob. Today, everything is heavy. Today, even light bends toward the center of your joke. Mr. Doob. Today