THE MONAD GLEASON
I am watching a film from 1905, some trolleys
and horses and cars, in San Francisco. I am
struck - all of these people are dead, and the
drayage by horses makes me sad. And all those
lively boys, running, whose lives were probably
snuffed. The rest of it, really, affects me not at all.
more merely just the way things were - there were
no wires anywhere to be seen - these people were
monads of one. The very next year, anyway, it all
came crumbling down and burned in the earthquake
fire. Some of them probably died there. I want to shout:
'Sir, you've got but a year to live!' Alas, but, I am too
sad. What's human about this is what's human
about me? I'd have to wonder about that too.