There are massive gaps in this essay. It is broken and re-wound.
Not always knowing and yet searching... Respond. Exchange. Converse.
Be a traveller in this novel, even if only for a while.

All that is solid melts into air, all that is holy is profaned, and men at last are forced to face with sober sense the real
conditions of their lives and their relations with their fellow men. (The Communist Manifesto, cit. Harvey, pp. 99-100)

In a world that is simply a beautiful explosion, still so gracefully obscure, the transience of science uplifts the long
standing banner of failure in the most inspiring successful response; 
so passionate with its own faith of continuum that we will and are evolved by.
 
Within this exploded realm of beauty, our world, we seek out what we are, what we know. Nothing feigned or assumed.  Only a sense of honest identity.
 
The noblest side of all humanity is our need to know.  To know the unknown.  And yet, we are betrayed by our very social, most very modern sense of presence.
 
How do you find truth in what you create? How do you know what you are truly responsible for?  Anaesthetised by aesthetics. Condemned by knowledge. 
Stricken by guilt and caught up in a multi layered, interweave of history and existence.
We allow, we thrive; we exist for the need to sell and understand sociality, to admit defeat to the giant, to conform to the world of shadows.
 
Where do we begin to find truth?   We even understand the way to find truth and so in knowing this we are once more struck back to the start of the game. The game; living out the game.
 
So, we request Walter Benjamin’s ‘Stillstellung’, a zero hour, a suspension.
 
No more events, operations, shows, presentations, collisions, explosions, no more.
 
Bound by the poetry within us all, a light that fights daily to rise within, we need to let it earn its responsibility, and actively gain its reward.  The Sun’s gaze is for us all.
 
And why do we wear these disguises? Why do we care for them? What can we say that has not been said before? What do we need to further hide? Hide behind.
 
We have an audacious aim. 
 
To define without boundaries. Listen to echoes. Dive deep.
 
Think consider and then create. Find support, interaction, mutual encouragement, points of intersection where the space is reserved.
 
 
Celebrate once more the idea that is borne out after a long contemplation.
 
 
‘I will tell you’, we hear whispered.


When you can't imagine how things are going to change, that doesn't mean that nothing will change.
It means that things will change in ways that are unimaginable.
Bruce Sterling
 
'James Joyce was a synthesizer, trying to bring in as much as he could. I am an analyzer, trying to leave out as much as I can.' Samuel Beckett.
 
 
“ Oh, the traveller always appeared only in the first pages and then was never mentioned again _ he had fulfilled his function, the novel wasn't his story…” Ital Calvino – If on a winter’s night a traveller. 1979
 
 
All these thoughts these great thinkers found suspension, a possible land of thought, maybe a hyper-reality within their own imagination, a silent walk through the fjords of Bergman’s dilemma, a stride through snow painted streets of the cinema of New York or better a suspension within the empty, ‘Winter Landscape’ by Caspar Freidrich, and a cigarette smoked without grief, a swing upon the trapeze in Alexander Calder’s circus, an appointment taken with Bacon.  Feel your senses, a truth, as did they, not just a cinematic sense of romance, a bleeding heart of compassion but a pure vial of truth.  It is a needed break from the intense pressure that we have allowed to exist, that stifles the idea, the ideas that need to exist.
 
COUNTER :

Agreed excitement and propulsion, adrenalin even, can breed immense passion and beauty but today, walk and consider, as I do not believe this is so true.
I can’t believe a girl is playing me…
 
Radiohead – no
Metallica – no
Bach – too clever back to JAIL
The Sugar Babes – I don’t think so!
My Chemical Romance – re run away!
Big Mama Thornton – maybe
 
In fact yes bring back those glorious painful, gloriously sad blues. We need that call of the wild, no re run, no packaging, no image.
 
Just hear your own breath, be still be very still…’NOT I…!’ you cry!
 
Memory and imagination, you own free of charge. Please let us use it, give us time to recharge and develop a language of truth, of beauty, of a new place, a new identity that we all feel we do not know or will ever understand and in that guise, stand on the edge of time alongside those scientists who manage that failure, oh so well.  We have lessons to learn.