I am a stagnant nomad, fed the lives of others. I am an indifferent purveyor of news of all persuasions. With time’s steady aging my usage has diminished, but my life will only end with the death of my hierarchal parents, the teeming bureaucracy that first created me, in their eternally adolescent minds, a long time before now. All empires end, but with them, so will I. My inevitable demise, however, is faced with giddy expectance. Super Savers taste like shit.