Succour for the offstage puppy

Hare, hunter, field - remember the eugenicist's merry quiz for feeble mindedness? Make a sentence of them, and you escape sterilisa-tion, a fate which cost a fortune, the last time I looked. But look what happens, when we crop the puppy from the frame. We're left with celebrating our intentions, capturing our sympathy in the most charmingly disarming perspective, missing the mystery of what it is, we're treasuring. The offstage puppy, the mind, is portrayed as too endearing to be beheld, much less examined; and we fall back upon praising our praises of it. Why would anyone wonder why?

You can tell, dear reader, that I found a pretty room today, and I'm mightily inclined to show it, to lend succour to your contemplations. In such a space you can well anticipate solace, and empathy in detail; and in the undoubted classicism of its inspiration there is implicit consolation of taste. The gods wept, &c.

I believe so enthusiastically in the genius of architecture to work such wonders, that I share the stimulation of their presen-tation with heightened imagina-tion. But I am interested in the assumptions the container bears toward what it's supposed to domicile, if not to crop from the field. I have to admit, that to allow one's container to accrue by mere accretion (a style oft-protested at Ivan Terestchenko's page) is to crop the puppy from the field by neglect, at best, verging upon cowardice. I think, if there is any succour to be extracted from design, one cannot run from the eugenicist. The hunter did not know the field where he'd be welcomed as the hare. The gods are out there. We know they are.