Those who use the world assuming their knowledge is sufficient destroy the world. The forest is mangled for the sale of a few sticks, or is bulldozed into a stream and covered over with the earth it once stood upon. The stream turns foul, killing the creatures that once lived from it. Industrial humanity, an alien species, lives by death. In the clutter of facts, the destroyers leave behind them one big story, of the world and the world’s end, that they don’t know. They know names and little stories. But the names of everything are not everything.
