A Path Is A Prior Interpretation Of

Sure, You Can Say Nuclear Power Is Somewhat Less Carbon-intensive Than Burning Fossil Fuels For Energy; Beating Your Children To Death With A Club Will Prevent Them From Getting Hit By A Car. Ravaging The Earth By One Irreparable Means Is Not A Sensible Way To Prevent It From Being Destroyed By Another. There Are Alternatives. We Should Choose Them And Use Them.

More And More I Think Of Privatisation As Being Not Just About The Takeover Of Resources And Power By Corporate Interests, But As The Retreat Of Citizens To Private Life And Private Space, Screened From Solidarity With Strangers And Increasingly Afraid Or Even Unable To Imagine Acting In Public.

Walking Itself Is The Intentional Act Closest To The Unwilled Rhythms Of The Body, To Breathing And The Beating Of The Heart. It Strikes A Delicate Balance Between Working And Idling, Being And Doing. It Is A Bodily Labor That Produces Nothing But Thoughts, Experiences, Arrivals.

Language Is Like A Road, It Cannot Be Perceived All At Once Because It Unfolds In Time, Whether Heard Or Read. This Narrative Or Temporal Element Has Made Writing And Walking Resemble Each Other.

There Are Fossils Of Seashells High In The Himalayas; What Was And What Is Are Different Things.