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And when the lights go out I remember … I rode a tank, held a general's rank, when the Blitzkrieg rained and the bodies stank.I’ll side with UTOPOIA just to get through the fucking day. (a sentiment of yours from an earlier post which I admire, hence below…)Post-structuralist junkies eventually choke on their self-indulgent vomit of ceaseless irony. Whatever modernism failed to achieve, to wit, everything; it left, nevertheless, a zeitgeist (sic) replete with empty promises. The power of this failure is a magnificent structure; it founds a necessity for overcoming, once the point of no return has been accepted. Ecology is that point of no return and the very birth of global paranoia. A point at which the all, the everything of the world, since it is joined up, interconnected if you will, must now be under some form of control, lest it immediately disintegrate (Bishop Berkley). Total un-freedom (in Marcuse’s sense) is welcomed to the table of culture as a calculated consequence, ensuring that the weather is everywhere predictable, everywhere controllable. On this… give me spots on my apples and leave me with the birds and the bees. White feathered, black rubber canvases called the tune in days of yore, not as any irony per se, but as a desperate call to arms, which never came (another dispiriting defeat). Since then beards have grown ever longer and faces with them. Throwing snowballs into the fire of capitalism remains ironic until the volume of snow becomes overwhelming; a point Engels makes in his ‘Dialectics of Nature’, stating that it is the fate of quantities to become qualities under his prescient laws of dialectics which are:- 1. Everything, every universal event and object is constituted from opposites; made of opposing forces/opposing sides.2. Gradual change leads to a critical point at which polar opposites invert; opposing poles become their inverse.3. Change is not circular but helical, developing in one axis.What is useful, within the interstices of architectural practice, such as it remains beyond the closing geometries of Mies VdR, is the possibility of inversion; of turning something on its arse. Just as every cop is a criminal and all the sinners, saints; what is made is fleeting, what is intended necessarily more enduring.I am still alive my comrade in these most desperately optimistic days of nihilism.