As an occasional pursuer of porn
and a serial reader of detective fiction
of the type where it's selling point
is how much it lacks elegance
I was recently surprised when I realised
how alike these two interests I had were.
Both cut to the chase with indecent haste,
both make a lack character development
their chief virtue and both keep you seeking
by never giving their pursuer/reader
what they actually want; a truly satisfying ending.
*the youthful prayer of St Augustine of Hippo
as recalled in his forties in his 'Confessions',
written circa 400 A.D. in Latin. It is a book
that I read all the way through, once. But,
like the works of Kierkegaard, it is a book
that I would now find had too many words in it
and its ideas are presented in the wrong order
-but then again what is modern man meant to do
with history, beyond argue against it? That is
what St Augustine and Kierkegaard did.....
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