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At some point, nature completely disappears behind the horizon of time, and what remains is the de-naturalized, re-configured world of Dystopia. That is what we’re approaching, as surely as any individual dies. The end of the earth, the end of the body, the stepping forth of a post-human subject that only distantly remembers the human subject as it was (the way we remember, only in mythological terms, the primeval forest). The primeval person — the flesh and blood homo sapiens — will fade like that forest, is already fading, can only fade, is willing its own disappearance. Memory is deployed only as a palliative measure; memory is not a sacred act, but a kind of disturbing violation of the past which installs the false premise that the past is still alive. Memory screens us from our own destruction of the world and ourselves. Memory can only be nostalgia.
