#wegmann

Oil on canvas 114 x 93 cm (44,9 x 36,6 in)

OfHouses guest curated by AFGH. (Photos: © Georg Stärk, Zoelly Archive. Source: Annabelle Steinbach, “Pierre Zoelly – Zwischen Systematik und Poesie. Drei Wohnhäuser der 1960er Jahre”, MAS Schlussarbeiten: 2013.)

Bertha Wegmann, Anna Seekamp, Kunstnerens søster (1882)

Luxemburg State Railways Type "Wegmann" from 1965/66.

Why this curse on some of us who can never feel at ease anywhere, neither in the sun nor out of it, neither with men nor without them? Ignorant of good humor, an amazing achievement! Those who have no access to irresponsibility are the most wretched. To possess a high degree of consciousness, to be always aware of yourself in relation to the world, to live in the permanent tension of knowledge, means to be lost for life. Knowledge is the plague of life, and consciousness, an open wound in its heart. Is it not tragic to be man, that perpetually dissatisfied animal suspended between life and death? I'm weary of being a man. If I could, I would renounce my condition on the spot, but what would I become then, an animal? I cannot retrace my steps. Besides, I might become an animal who knows the history of philosophy. As to becoming superman, that seems to me utter and ridiculous folly. Could there be a solution, approximate of course, in a sort of superconsciousness? Couldn't one live beyond (not just on this side, toward animality) all complex forms of consciousness, anxiety, agony, in a sphere of life where access to eternity would no longer be pure myth? As far as I am concerned, I resign from humanity. I no longer want to be, nor can still be, a man. What should I do? Work for a social and political system, make a girl miserable? Hunt for weaknesses in philosophical systems, fight for moral and esthetic ideals? It's all too little. I renounce my humanity even though I may find myself alone. But am I not already alone in this world from which I no longer expect anything? Beyond present-day common ideals and forms, one might breathe in a superconsciousness where the intoxication of eternity would do away with the qualms of this world, and where being would be just as pure and immaterial as nonbeing.” - Emil Cioran, ‘On the Heights of Despair’ (1934) [p. 43, 44]

Some time as a Territory to assimilate, adoption of English as an official language, bureaucratic alignment and eradication of the corruption. It may be the only fix long term. In the current chaos in the US it’s not a good idea.