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Apocalypse is the dying ashen world of phylogeny. It is the crackling blackening timber of a taxonomic forest erupting in the shrieking heat and smoke of extinction. The annihilations flaming fingers play an incinerating piano upon the trunk of Darwin's tree of life. Nomenclature twists and curls and becomes visitant embers floating up and away from the sanitizing fires of history.
What progress survives the cinerarium left by the Balrog of Khazad-dum must cross Durin's bridge above the chasm abyss. Perhaps raison d'état rides Durin's Bain as she did Drogon. What shall pass to the east gate is knowledge shaped by the loss of knowledge.
Assujettissement in the name of freedom is the xenophobic fascism that will bring about the nuclear summer; a flood in the atmosphere will convince Old Sol that it's time to rise and never set again.
Nietzsche's eternal recurrence is the death of "death." Perhaps all of the fauna are already necrofauna.
