I have always known that people have interfaces. People have ways in which they model their interaction with the Universe around them. Sometimes it is their language, they way in which they speak to each other. Sometimes it is their body movements, they way in which they hold themselves. Sometimes it is via the rules of their custom, the way in which they were raised. Sometimes it is the way in which a lover or friend taught them. Sometimes they pick it up from a book, or a magazine, or a pamphlet, or a piece of nearly random graffiti half-glimpsed through a train window.
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