Epilogue

Abstract

Part of living at a distance has meant relying on a stream. Today alone, so much information has streamed into my home from so many sources on so many devices I would have trouble accounting for all of it. While my daughter streamed her class session upstairs, a selection of music I would be likely to enjoy streamed on my phone, and my son streamed a movie from one of the services to which I hastily (and regrettably) subscribed when the pandemic began. We streamed a bedtime story read remotely by Dolly Parton, a Shakespearian sonnet read by Patrick Stewart, and a silent film playing on the wall of a New York City apartment. Unlike the tsunami of my emotional state for the past few months, these streams have been rather comforting. But how does the metaphor of the stream hold up to the discourses and dangers of ventriloquism we have been addressing throughout this collection?...