In pursuing yonder what they have lost, they encounter only the nothing they have. In order not to lose touch with the everyday dreariness in which, as irremediable realists, they are at home, they adapt the meaning they revel in to the meaninglessness they flee. The worthless magic is nothing other than the worthless existence it lights up.—THEODOR ADORNO, MINIMA MORALIA All progressions from a higher to a lower order are marked by ruins and mystery and a residue of nameless rageSo. Here are the dead fathers.—CORMAC MCCARTHY, BLOOD MERIDIAN
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rdfs:label
| - Epigraphs: The Thousandfold Thought
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rdfs:comment
| - In pursuing yonder what they have lost, they encounter only the nothing they have. In order not to lose touch with the everyday dreariness in which, as irremediable realists, they are at home, they adapt the meaning they revel in to the meaninglessness they flee. The worthless magic is nothing other than the worthless existence it lights up.—THEODOR ADORNO, MINIMA MORALIA All progressions from a higher to a lower order are marked by ruins and mystery and a residue of nameless rageSo. Here are the dead fathers.—CORMAC MCCARTHY, BLOOD MERIDIAN
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abstract
| - In pursuing yonder what they have lost, they encounter only the nothing they have. In order not to lose touch with the everyday dreariness in which, as irremediable realists, they are at home, they adapt the meaning they revel in to the meaninglessness they flee. The worthless magic is nothing other than the worthless existence it lights up.—THEODOR ADORNO, MINIMA MORALIA All progressions from a higher to a lower order are marked by ruins and mystery and a residue of nameless rageSo. Here are the dead fathers.—CORMAC MCCARTHY, BLOOD MERIDIAN
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