in the thrall of Walter Benjamin

earlier today i finished an epic examination of Heath Ledger and The Dark Knight, running the gamut from Jack to Kahlil and back again to the feet of the maestro. it was like staring at a mirror hung askew;

i felt the weight of my gaze turned back upon me.

i typed, shivering, the final sentence:

"... and as the spectacle of Ledger's passing continues to fade, what emerges is the image of Janus - one face gazing backwards, tracing a boundary between Ledger and ourselves; and the other looking forward, seeking absolution in his lingering presence."

where this leads i do not know, but i managed (for the first time) to string together a single, coherent, compelling line of thought over the course of six thousand words. no fancy tricks, no repetition, no escapes into formalism. one of my goals, of course, is to see it published, but my truest impulse was simply say what i meant, to say simply that which is not.