There are some, no, many, passages in Eliot’s “Four Quartets” where he reveals the coincidence of tracks: train tracks converging in the rails ahead, the wake of a ship expanding in the distance, far elevations viewed through small arched windows as the retiring climber mounts a spiral stair. The passage of life both out of and into time.
Eiseily’s meditations reverberate with the conchial winding of his inner ear, writ large in the deafening sediments (but not sentiments) of fossilized conchs.
Contemporaneously, Albert used the allegory of travel on a train to explain relativity. Yet the sum of their explanations is inexplicable. Is it wind, or winding?
Curiously, Albert lost many relatives in the Jewish holocaust while so many of his genius compatriots remained loyal German nationalists & followed the folly of his nation, which led to the unnecessary development of nuclear industries.
The cat is neither in, nor out of the box; but is most certainly both at once and not at all.
In hindsight, there is only one thing of which I am certain; my life would have been complete if our high school principal had been a certain Mr. Heisenberg. I have tried, earnestly, to live according to principles derived from the universal golden rule.
We live in a time of accelerating dystopia. I have exhausted my energies in an unflagging determination to break good.
Such, apparently, is life. I will be 68 in two very short weeks. This is my witness to our common Autumn, the Autumn of the SpeciesTM.
~jwl
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