Visiting A Sport Superstore I Turned Into An Algorithm
by David Beer The other day, in a cavernous sports superstore, I thought of J.G. Ballard. Echoey. Compartmentalised. Fluorescent. Stuffed with product. It was, probably quite obviously, the sort of place Ballard might have imagined the norms of society suddenly collapsing in on themselves, unable to carry their own contradictions. Banal yet shiny, ordered yet…
