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This report is taken from PN Review 225, Volume 42 Number 1, September - October 2015.

Ciao 2 Frank Kuppner
1 How amazing! It didn’t last forever after all! And everything is just something else that happened. What else? What else could it be? Stars, gases, galaxies – or whatever they might more properly be called in a better-fitting language – all of them going on, up and down, to and fro, forever, from everywhere else. Or from here: forward, back and sideways. For instance, people for example riding on, for instance, horses. Yes. Rarely if ever the other way about. (Eh?) Snapping. Talking. Tears. Hearses? Tears? Or trees. Sunlight through a billion or pavillion windows and a million voices nearby. Huh. All those (unknown!) languages! All that mere (unnecessary?) stuff falling out of the skin – no – out of the sky. Perhaps all physics is a mere anachronism? Or politics, perhaps? (Take, for example, this brief history of (surely ridiculously over-priced?) underwear. (Not underwater. Or is this perhaps what history itself is?)) Getting other people to do it for us by the thousand. (Insects – to name but one!) How it all falls together. Or how largely it falls apart. Perhaps into darkness. Darknesses? A single promising bright spot rather too far away. Or very like a plant here (or simply hereabouts?) a moment ago? Yet: but what is a moment? (Not another moment?) Or what, for that matter, is anything else? Look! Love? Dust. Dusk? And now more dust. Absence, itself absent. Trying to work it out. Which of these two or more ought I really to choose? But perhaps I should say nothing more about it until ...


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