And his daughter is right to ask about progress, and he wishes he had not closed off the question with such certainty and sophistry since it’s a question that comes from an innocence of mind and begs for the same in its answer. He should have said, I don’t know my love. That would have been true. Because who can look at man’s neurotic assault on the planet and find it beautiful? Man’s hubris. A hubris so almighty it’s matched only by his stupidity. And these phallic ships thrust into space are surely the most hubristic of them all, the totems of a species gone mad with self-love.
