“Diodorus Siculus tells us a story of a god, broken and scattered abroad. What man of us has never felt, walking through the twilight or writing down a date from his past, that he has lost something infinite?” – Borges
The kingdom of god is the end of history but it cannot be the goal. Civilization wordlessly flying apart at the margins. A Diamond Age, which reflects everything but has no existence itself. An Orphic Age, dreams fluttering out of an ancient chthonic night.
Indefinite Regions, The Wave, Reality Dissolves.
“The top hat: is it ugly?” The newspapers asked of Mallarme. When he died it was from a spasm of the larynx. A poet lost in the shadows, his verses hermetic and silent. “We are the sad opacity of our future ghosts.” What a drab terrorist.