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    <pubDate>Sun, 29 Apr 2007 17:11:51 GMT</pubDate>
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      <title>The Plastic Soul of a Note</title>
      <link>http://www.scribd.com/doc/40945/The-Plastic-Soul-of-a-Note</link>
      <description>The Plast ic Soul of a Note
By William T. Katz

I stare at the pieces of flesh, detritus only given names like arm and hand because they&#8217;re affixed to my worthless husk, and I am deeply ashamed. My gift, my reason for being, is utterly destroyed. &#8220;Look at those people,&#8221; Jessica says as our limousine slows near a crowd gathered before the ten-foot gates of the Institute. &#8220;Don&#8217;t they have anything better to do?&#8221; I read two of the signs that rise above a line of policemen: Each Human is Unique and Feed the Hungry First. A blond woman, thirty-something with wild eyes, swings a baby dol</description>
      <pubDate>Sun, 29 Apr 2007 17:11:51 GMT</pubDate>
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