Un-undone is a de-deconstruction; post-postmodern, mailed to the unboxed boxing champion, unwilling to fight any more. Spam is like a pig, but in a can. Metaphors are like similes, but direct and indirect. Connections are like disconnection: soldered to the other; overheated, separated. Electricity is a cloud on a sunny sandy board, surfing alternations that cannot be predicted until they have crashed and gone. Take it apart and build up something that could not be another vacuum cleaner. Dust piles up dust. Rust shaves shine and leaves smooth sharp. If Derrida derides, is the ride ridden?