Oh, my. The new government's deliver-
ance of the legal profession from the
clutches of self-respect, celebrated
a mere three weeks ago, has entered in
the last two news cycles a fratricidal
interval of resistance, in raids that
are welcomed as an attack on our coun-
try, in the very same clocksweep as
horrid new images of chemical annihil-
ation in an overseas civil war again
inspire that same conscientious lament
which led to a demure riposte against
a naked airfield. True to form, it did
hurt us more than the absent respondent,
by carrying ostentatious discipline be-
yond ambivalence, into pale illusion.
So much depends on the pictures he sees,
and best not seen in those he shows.
We greet each other, then, suspended in
a veil of yet another frantic threat of
reprisal - in the overseas fratricide,
as well as the indelicate domestic im-
broglio in the profession of justice -
with the figure of discipline superbly
foretold for us by Theo van Doesburg in
1919, the hero stalwartly lobbing mis-
siles in retreat, the artist's ingeni-
ous exploitation of the fleeing stride
A vision to savor almost for prescience.
Theo van Doesburg
The Archer
MFA Budapest
1919
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