the smuggler’s bible


Ideologically, Linus understands the selfie culture—ritual examinations of the self focused on repetition and posturing before tweeting that shit as an aggressive personal affirmation to one’s peers.

What he doesn’t get is how those damned teens have such strong instincts regarding visual composition.

“OK, here we go,” he mutters, trying to recall the single-semester photography class he took in college. “Soft lighting, rule of thirds. Perfect.”

The shot comes out looking like a giant nose standing in a Walmart Tire Center. He tries some filters, but Linus is a millennial. He can smell a lost cause a mile away.