I don’t know how to feel about the visceral reaction that I have to the action of swiping my thumb in a movement that I can trace from where I guess is a team of tendons somewhere parallel to my wrist and the little fat part of my palm I like to refer to as “my drumstick”, from the bottom of my phone’s screen until the tip of my thumb is just at my general line of sight, all of this in one natural motion. No sooner is this action complete am I met when an entire block of information above my thumb, square in my line of sight.<p>In one stroke the location of a place, the type of place it is, its size, its distance from somewhere else, its history, read more, or swipe again. And another block. And another. And there’s something about this process that is visually disruptive and kinetically unsettling.