The semester prior I had found myself insitu in the empty office of Edmond & Corrigan, and with tape measure in hand, I surveyed the site of my devotion to an individual, determined to restore as faithful a copy of the office as could possible, against the sovereign indifference of new scanning technology. I counted bricks, I crawled under tables, I pulled out draws, I determined the location, thickness and dimension of everything down to the lightning bolt that escapes from under the lip of the sink. I found the edges of each roll of carpet. I ambushed each light and power switch. I cobbled together a harrowingly complete understanding of the mechanics of the library. I was amazed at the discovery of every banal difference. I saw millimetres as potential breakthroughs.