What is it about our current reality that is so insufficient that we feel compelled to augment or improve it?
It has always been this way. Finite. But at forty-five you realize it.
Some things are worth cherishing precisely because they are finite. Things cannot go on for ever. I learned this in my younger days: it isn't how long you live that matters. What matters is what you do when you're alive.
In real life, solidarity takes many forms, almost all of them hard. Solidarity is hard because it isn't about imaginary identifications, it's about struggling across the canyon of not being someone else ...
Each confessed that he had seen both his own and his counterpart's behavior as a waste of time. But the Brit confided that he'd been impressed by the imperturbable discipline with which the Chinese had executed their idiotic instructions. And, for their part, the Chinese said they'd secretly admired the exquisite one-upmanship with which the Brits had greeted them on a mission whose absurdity and futility they fully appreciated.