The möbius strip as a metaphor for a cultural presence, self-replication and an endlessly recursive symbolic reconcatenation has worn somewhat threadbare and thin; it is almost too obvious that there is one continuous surface and entity, instanced diversely but essentially a unity and shared process. It is far too obvious, so apparent that it has become like those new clothes constructed of nothing at all in which we, as emperors, celebrate our own wilful misdirection; overwritten, ostentatiously ignorant, postmodern clichés which in our aspirations to novelty and an adaptive, diminishing attention span provide distractions from an ocean of… distractions. It is only a skateboard with a stenciled Last Supper; the meaning is all virtual, fantastic, transience and without you is nothing, just like any other structural abstraction or systematised experience.