96
CultureCult Magazine - Summer 2016
You say you see it all too often in the bitter rants of those leaving your beloved Pompeii. They say the city will burn but you have little conviction in soothsayers. You trust your inner volcano to establish peace with the dormant one. You believe yourself enough to trust the illusion you have called your own which you are ready to burn for while the disillusioned search for greener shores in a ship sans helm. Would you say you pity them? Would you say you were disappointed? Would you raise your voice to stifle their rumour of sour grapes? You bang your head against a brick wall, claiming the seasons change. But you say they only see the fire and the ice and nothing in between – their simulation has fallen apart. They could try their hands at philosophy, you admit, but they can only do so in a Bordeaux chateau with pinot noir, far away from the Parisian streets. My Venice may be humble and only a fraction from getting flooded but I know you are as much a being of disillusionment as I am. As Zika-ridden as you claim their rich slums are, they are only that, an illusion to sustain their search for the north while you take for granted your ancient gold sextant. Forgive me for being so bold, but in the melee of creation and death, you may have forgotten the math, and it is high time you begin to use a smart phone with a functional calculator. I must ask you to refrain from using the GPS, however. As you will find out for yourself, I’m sure, they are as yet ill-equipped to complement your gifted finesse in the art of cartography. []
Graphics: Oberholster Venita