A theory of the mask - all masks: obj. of imitation, mimicry, mayhap even metonymy. No, not at all about concealment. Revealing the world - apocalypse on the face, because the face is so deceptive and ephemeral, now smiling, now grimacing, now disgusted in obedience to the olfactory organ that has encountered some rank bodily atmosphere, proximate. The Fringe perspires. Against entropy, the mask, my dear Padulweis. But I can hear you already - perceptive as always! - doubting this theory as a friend doubts a friend. You only want and want only the best for me. So look closer. The shuttered eyes and mouth, mirroring the shutters of the Lighthouse. Closed off, the world is dark and so is the face. A simple metaphor from a simple cult that all wear the same domino when they worship their beacon. I cannot imagine you prostrate before a hole in the ground, Padulweis, or any hole anywhere, and nor can mine self. But let's not make this about libido. An obelisk next to a maw. I shudder! The metaphors are too easy, and Tupper "the Younger" is proof that one only needs one simple metaphor to build a faith.