Today I saw a cloud that looked like the Pietà.
A testament to Heaven’s glory, thought I. What could be greater?
But as I watched, the cloud dissolved and slouched,
Becoming, so it seemed, a chubby woman on a couch.
With yet more time the lofty breezes did their work,
Turning God’s art to just so much chaotic murk.
O, Entropy, thou changest beauty into dross:
Perhaps that was the testament that was meant for us.
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"O, Entropy, thou changest beauty into dross:
Perhaps that was the testament that was meant for us."
Tout passe, tout casse, tout lasse.
I see we're in a Qoheleth kind of mood.
I'm so close to Qoheleth
I can smell it
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