From time to time I’ll be writing about the cassettes in the shoebox I filled that day, which presently hides behind a Fender Bandit 112 in the living room. The bits I write will be stored in a special section of this site called “Cassette Box.” By the time I get through, there’ll be an exact virtual representation of the box into whose hungry-ghosts-from-the-past maw I am presently staring. Whether the actual box or its virtual representation will ever be of any real use in the world is a question that my fellow incurable object-fetishizing stuff-acquirers do not even need to ask.