After the non-blizzard, the sun returned to its usual trajectory, setting in the southwest. I had a view of this event from my office window and, when I took the picture, decided to leave in the window panes and fluorescent lights, for the sake of veracity. The next afternoon, however, I decided that the view was better without the window panes. To get these shots, I have to walk to the end of a hallway, where I sometimes feel a little self-conscious: what if one of my superiors sees me and wonders why I'm taking pictures instead of getting work done? Thankfully I'm now employed by a non-profit, where people are a little more relaxed about such strictures. Besides, who wouldn't understand the pressing need to capture the perfect gilded light reflecting off the city's most noteworthy skyscraper? This week I spent some time thinking about Carles, who recently returned to the internet to sell his underground-famous website "Hipster Runoff" and to publish a book (available for free download) called "Nothing Matters." I think his decision to stop blogging, for reasons he elucidates in both commercial and philosophical terms, represents another signpost in the evolution (or devolution) of the internet, namely to the extent it has become infused with a pervasive sense of boredom and stagnation that makes it about as exciting as, say, the telephone, except even worse, because you can still talk on the telephone without being bombarded by corporate logos and sales pitches. As a (sometimes) writer, I also question the failure of the mainstream media or -- more narrowly -- "literary culture" to embrace Carles as a visionary; granted, he didn't publish novels or books, and much of his prose can't easily be classified as "fiction" or "essay" or any of the other (tedious) categories typically associated with writing on or off the internet. Yet over just a few years, he posted hundreds of thousands of words and images in a style not only instantly recognizable and unique (and widely imitated), but also highly critical of many of the worst traits of contemporary society. I have no doubt that, if I were living 100 years in the future and someone asked me about the state of society circa 2008-2012, I would list Carles first among writers whose work represents a valid picture of what was good and bad about this period. He was our best social critic; and if I were running the world today, I would direct the Ransom Center or some similar cultural archive to buy Hipster Runoff and make it available for the indefinite future. (Maybe that's what's going to happen: the actual buyer of the site hasn't yet been announced.) Or maybe, as he states, it doesn't matter, because like everything else, it existed for a while and will soon be gone. Still, as Arthur Schopenhauer -- perhaps the greatest of the "nothing matters" philosophers -- put it almost 200 years ago, we still have an obligation to live, so perhaps one way to do that with the least agony is to enjoy a few of the small things, such as the juxtaposition of the winter sky against the street signs in Washington Heights. (Even if it's -5 degrees out.) Or to take pictures of dead flowers and imagine sending them to people we don't like. Or maybe just to drift in and out of sleep. Or to sit in the watery sunlight and think about nothing that matters, which is everything.