Before we light the fire, let's make
a piece of Art and burn it. Every-
thing must go. What we are, what
we do. Let's not be too serious
about it.
a proposal lately considered
at a page often referenced here
My response to hypotheses like these is always a little guarded, even knowing (as we all do) that the ultimate disposition of existence may be as tidy as they suggest. My interest is in that middle ground of things, where narrative has some liberty and necessity to draw breath, where our arguably vain little projects of investigation can sufficiently be absorbed by the mechanisms and matter of experience as to occupy the senses with some notion of what is being destroyed all the while, even as they may refresh with continuing distraction by their charm. Immolation can perform its dour corrective any time.
Meanwhile, I mark another
gratifying occasion of
stimulation by a cultiv-
ated mind, and celebrate
its extract as I go.
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