Sunday, April 11, 2010
And yet he must do something. He cannot simply wade through this morass of abjection for the sake of wading through it. He must judge; he must execute. He has lumped this group together, as is his ability, for the sake of discernment and/or organization. But now what? The group lumps together extremely easily, and at present, he cannot actually discern one being from another. There are only different aspects of the Foul. The aspects are different and yet they fit together ... harmoniously? A harmonious collectivity of stench? A fugue of odors. A fugue. A more advanced for of round, different from a round in that each voice, though beginning with the same melody nevertheless branches out to become its own melodic line. The same thing here, with odors.