What Are The Stars But Points In

All The Animals, The Plants, The Minerals, Even Other Kinds Of Men, Are Being Broken And Reassembled Every Day, To Preserve An Elite Few, Who Are The Loudest To Theorize On Freedom, But The Least Free Of All.

So The City Became The Material Expression Of A Particular Loss Of Innocence – Not Sexual Or Political Innocence But Somehow A Shared Dream Of What A City Might At Its Best Prove To Be – Its Inhabitants Became, And Have Remained, An Embittered And Amnesiac Race, Wounded But Unable To Connect Through Memory To The Moment Of Injury, Unable To Summon The Face Of Their Violator.

The Hand Of Providence Creeps Among The Stars, Giving Slothrop The Finger.

Right And Left; The Hothouse And The Street. The Right Can Only Live And Work Hermetically, In The Hothouse Of The Past, While Outside The Left Prosecute Their Affairs In The Streets Manipulated By Mob Violence. And Cannot Live But In The Dreamscape Of The Future.

Perhaps Its Familiarity Rendered It Temporarily Invisible To You.