Stars are ghosts of long dead suns haunting the night above us. They are the echoes of things that once existed and witnessed events beyond the realm of our reason. We don't wonder though, we just proceed. I'm taking the dog out for his evening shite or I'm putting out the bins. It's cold. It's dark. It's dead silent but for distant traffic sighing and the wind quietly sneaking through branches. I'm on the surface of this still planet and I might look up. I might notice these shining spirits in the sky. I may momentarily feel comforted or threatened or ambivalent. Then I will look away and I will do what I need to do or watch the dog do what must be done. Then I will go back inside. I will watch my television and it will erase my mind of wonder and blind me to the infinite. A quiz is on. A woman with nice legs is giving away a big cash prize. I won't bother entering the competition even though I know the answers to all the questions. It's trivia from the small portion of the Universe we continually stare at and think about and measure ourselves by, a small portion of the Universe that concerns itself with fame and fortune. The stars in the sky are eclipsed by the stars on the screen. Marvels roll and burst, are born and die, above us and all around us – further than our eyes can see and our minds can reach - but I'm reaching for the remote control. I'm turning up the volume. Fuck the ineffability of the ineffable ineffableness. I'm going to see if I can win this quiz, this quiz that I couldn't be arsed entering. I'm paying close attention and shouting out the answers in a realm beyond reason.
Ghosts of the Past and the Future (1932)
1 day ago