I
"All this has happened before. And all this will happen again."
Battlestar Gallactica
He wrote me from the zone.
Several months had passed since his last letter, and I had
presumed him dead, lost, or insane. His journey, or ‘The Olyssey’ as he had
called it, had certainly taken its toll.
He showed me the house of God in ruins, and the
steel-wrought Angel of the North, looming over the A1, amongst other things. He
wrote me, these images could be put at the start of a prophetic film about an
end to the world of memory. They hint at a revelation that is far from enticing
– a revelation in which nothing is revealed and instead, everything is
forgotten.
He was gathering a catalogue of things worth remembering.
Films, images, books, thoughts, places, people, connections, ideas; everything
that he could not bear to see damaged by the coming floods. A philosophy of
immortality as duplication, he claimed.
But then, you don’t always get what you want from the
Zone.
