HTC, its movement through cyberspace, will have, by its very nature, precluded its own possibility to compose itself as a book. Not because its words can't be printed and bound by traditional book-contained media, nor because the "I" that is always already unbound in cyberspace says so. Rather, HTC will not have been a book (real or potential) due to its mediumistic discharge into the foundation of cyborgian life-forms whose "archi-texture" is the deterritorialized domain we call virtual reality. Nonetheless, let's play out a short sequence as if we wanted it to appear in a book but will relegate its thread to the hypertext structure we're presently caught in.

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