Something particular always comes from trends in nothing much at all. But this something is often terrified to discover this, and, turning around like Lot’s wife in their flight from the apocalypse of Sodom, turn to stone in the terror of chaos and inchoate force that this nothing appears as when encountered directly. Of course that force is intelligence and death at once, which are birth and life in purest form. They press us forward, if we are willing… into impossible wonder and fulfillment. But if we should, in fear, turn back to see from when all that is known arises? There we shall be destroyed. For declaration… declares us first, and in this we become stone, unmovable, rigid, permanent, frozen… en-helled by our own judgments and evaluations of possibilities that never even exist.