Improba navigii ratio: tomb with periscope in Nachleben of Pablo Posada Varela

Abstract

We were truly friends and to the end. We were friends and there is no doubt in this point. Generally, people tend to think without noticing, while in him everything was noticed without reservation, brilliantly and from the start, always based on concepts. What he perhaps couldn't suspect is that the terrible aspect of the All (and all that is terrible, by the way; let's say, Homer's mythical «phoberon») was also lurking: it's nothing more and nothing less than that rien that loses everything. In a killer world ―parce que c'est guerre― turned into the All for ones and the ones for the All, its disappearance, excessively soon and immoderate as the disappearance of any wild innocence in its phenomenological flicker, doesn't fix anything. But, what disappearance could? Instead, it makes our abandonment unbearable, almost allowing the filth of this killer world to win, further filling the irrationality and life (tomb of dreams) with periscopical questions: what if it's not the earth that stops moving but the sea? Has the sun just gone out? Why is there no longer a melée or team (transitory eternity) that matters? What umbilical material have all these waves caught?