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with ivanchuck mucking it up in TINYtown—possibly the favoured "lumberton" in province—with its railroad bridge o're a great-looking river, the mill yard with is horizontal felled-with-intent forest, legion hall, gas bar–liquor store with limited selection, strip mine ponds and tailings overgrown with scrub birch trees, the art shack, and cast of characters as wild as your imagination … is it any wonder that some days there's simply "no data, image not available" just when one wants to sit in the big chair in the panopticon and quietly, privately, perversely, observe a version of reality …

so what is really going on in a … in a town of watchers and gossips where the women won't talk to strangers where even some pentecosts are flamboyant as bejes but the eye on the sky is shut when needed or wanted wanton won ton dumpling fortune cookie with message inside TINYtown bulletin board by the door with notices for church suppers bake and yard sales knife and skate sharpening trucks and boats for sale and messages by god and jesus left for you yes you