What an intriguing short story. From the pen of Jorge Luis Borges. Story might be the wrong word: more an almost science-fictioney thought experiment or comment-scene which touches on and invites the reader to think about infinity and knowledge and probabilities. All very contemporary somehow. I found that it really helped me somehow to grasp inifinity -or near infinity- at more of a gut level than normally I manage and as such just to feel the edge of the intellectual vertigo of contemplating it. Kind of the literary equivalent of lying at night on the ground and looking at the stars.
The Library of Babel
Nous like scouse or French -oui? We wee whee all the way ... to mind us a bunch of thunks. Too much information? How could that be?
11 September 2013
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