Plague Journal, Perfection
What to write this morning? There was a dusting of snow last night. In the predawn darkness the spruce trees are painted white. That comforts me. The season of Fall is transitioning to Winter. If the seasons should fail to transition, that indeed, would be terror. Much worse than a deluded President, believing he is king, refusing to accede to the will of the people.
Just this is enough, taken from the little book by Franco “Bifo” Berardi, 
BREATHING, Chaos and Poetry
…the terrors of technocracy,
which sought to liberate humanity
from its humanness
through the efficiency of markets
and the rationality of machines.
This was the truly eternal fixture
of illegitimate revolution,
this impatience with irrationality,
this wish to be clean of it once and for all.
— excerpt, Purity by Jonathan Franzen
