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TorgoX (1933)


"Il est beau comme la retractilité des serres des oiseaux rapaces [...] et surtout, comme la rencontre fortuite sur une table de dissection d'une machine à coudre et d'un parapluie !" -- Lautréamont

Journal of TorgoX (1933)

Tuesday March 04, 2003
05:30 AM

Gloria Machinarum

[ #10874 ]
Dear Log,

Today was like any other day:

  • uncountable Africans died in unimaginable poverty, disease, and starvation;
  • HIV hardened its position in China and India;
  • the "global" (US and Eurasian) press gazed hypervigilantly into its all-encompassing navel (which last year was Afghanistan, this year is Iraq, next year, who knows, North Korea? Northern Pakistan? Kashmir? Yemen? Palestine/Israel? reserve your spot now!);
  • and I went for a nice pleasant walk!

It's becoming my habit to walk along a trail southeast, into the forest that grew up around the industrial ruins of the Treadwell Mining operations. The huge machines and buildings were abandoned only about a century ago, but they look ancient. There's plenty of rain, ice, moss, and trees; and that merrily turns concrete into gravel and metal into smeary rust.

I suppose I could turn a walk thru industrial ruins into some grand meditation on the transience of all things; but I mostly just like the look of the dozens of kinds of moss that grow on the walls. Some are like miniature ferns.

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