“No no no no
no no no no no no no no,” a cute toddler sang without a hint of punctuation. “She’s in love with the word ‘no’,” her grandmother explained.
Perhaps there is simply too much of everything around
us, and we have to choose. Or the choice is not even solely dependent on our will. And any choice is a process of elimination of everything else. Or are there superwomen
and supermen, these Übermenschen, who can take it all in? Human blackholes,
what would become of the information compactly stored within them? Would it be reused in
dreams, or lost in faulty synapsing? Would it remerge unexpectedly, uncalled for, to help in the creation of a new work of art?
“No no no
no no no no.”
“Thou
shalt not pass!”
