Can I read you something from my book? Or am I disturbing you? It says here: "All the anxiety we bear with us, all our thwarted dreams, the incomprehensible cruelty, our fear of extinction, the painful insight into our earthly condition, have slowly eroded our hope of other-worldly salvation. The howl of our faith and doubt against the darkness and silence is one of the most awful proofs of our abandonment and our terrified, unuttered knowledge." Do you think it's like that?
image: Bathers at Asnières (1884) by Georges Seurat
music: Lover's Spit (2003) by Broken Social Scene
text: Persona (1966) by Ingmar Bergman