The strangest thing about all of this, about our lives and the immense scattered confusion of information and human civilisation we find ourselves swept up in, the strangest thing of all is that none of this is what it appears to be. Or, rather, that it is radically other than what we think it is.

Take a step back, look at the mess that lies all around us and consider for a moment that the fact that any of this is even occurring on a small and (let’s face it) fairly insignificant planet in an utterly and mind-boggingly vast Universe – the fact that any of this is happening at all is really, extremely strange and peculiar. There is something else going on here and we can’t quite see it, can’t quite make it out; the culture and language through which we interpret ourselves, by which we attribute meaning, through which we interpret our place in the world by virtue of endless cycles of regurgitated repetition-with-variation and desensitising, meaningless bullshit – this tool we use to understand the world is also the mischievous blindspot that obscures its most essential fact from us.

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