Safe to say horror can never be fully forgotten, but one can spend a lifetime pushing it to the back of consciousness. Life is notoriously short and even that is largely disregarded as we seek to bleach the bones of futility with whatever light we can bathe our days....
Caught in the Maelstrom
The Swirling Tide of Idiocy
It appears we’ve done it again with the regularity of a playschool clock. The sages and the minstrels dance around the freshly dug graves as yet to be assigned.
What happens when the last of us is left to bed down for the interminable sleep? Who pulls over the covers and looks under the bed to reassure us that all is not lost, that the final spokesperson does, in fact, have someone to talk to?
As Wade Davis has noted, there is nothing more lonely than the last speaker of a mother’s tongue. All the cataclysms, dew drops and auroras are lost to eternity with the storytellers gone into that dark absence of the soul.
