On working days, that’s how I feel when I have to call, say, my bank. Too much movement. Entirely too much movement. Calling the bank. Listening to the dial pad options. Going through all the details with the bank person. Too much movement.

It’s a kind of death for the creative part of the mind. The ability to enter into Bookworld is murdered by saying your account number out loud. I don’t know why that’s so, it just is. Maybe it has something to do with the confined particularities of accounts, of banking, of paying bills, for example. How these systems are now more and more complex. Intricate in ways that bring no pleasure or satisfaction of completion. Are never complete. Convenient, yes, in some ways but all necessitating that you: pick up the Mediation Device in order to engage.

Touching the device is too much movement. The device is tricky like that. It looks inert, the black mirror. There on the counter. Very demure. It’s a Stone of Terrenon made modern. It will teach you the name of the shadow that haunts you while binding you twice over. To make the call you must touch the stone. To move your hand to the stone is not a few feet, it’s a few lifetimes. You touch the stone and lose a life, lose a path. You are rewired. It’s so much more movement than you could ever imagine.

— Craig Mod, Phone Calls vs. Creative Work, Zero Milestone, 2026