Either the creator will achieve such a level of success that they’ll no longer feel “relatable” to audiences and must reckon with their persona, the creator will be subject to some level of cancellation for past actions...or the job will create such a pressure-cooker environment that the creator quits altogether—but only for a while.↩︎ Vox
At least that's what we thought when we read it.
"There Is Absolutely Nothing Lonelier," by Matthew Rohrer, whose A Hummock in the Malookas was selected by Mary Oliver for the 1994 National Poetry Series.
There is absolutely nothing lonelier
than the little Mars rover
never shutting down, digging up
rocks, so far away from Bond street
in a light rain. I wonder
if he makes little beeps? If so
he is lonelier still. He fires a laser
into the dust. He coughs. A shiny
thing in the sand turns out to be his.