Varadero
He is sitting in a small corner cafe one wall of which is glass except for the door and the space over it in the middle of which there is an ornate gold frame in the middle of which there is a crucifix.
He reads:
Every culture begins with the introduction of distinctions: inside/outside, sacred/profane, intelligible speech/barbarian gibberish, signal/noise. The fact that they are able to generate a world is the reason why we experience the culture in which we live as the "natural" order of things. Yet these distinctions are processed by media in the broadest sense of the term. Doors, for instance, process the inside/outside distinction, yet they belong to neither side of the distinction and instead always assume the position of the third.
Beyond the window stream people in costume. Across the street, on the sidewalk opposite, in front of the bookstore, eighteenth century French aristocratic ladies pass a giant praying mantis. It looks like summer outside. Engrossed in conversation, two clowns pass directly in front of the window. Their hand movements prompt him to think of Aristotle.
Overhead, above the buildings opposite, a section of sky.
He closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose.
Opening them. A stream of detail passes on the street: aviator glasses; sweatshirts with advertisements emblazoned on the chest; a camera. Behind this narrow flux, a sequence of immobile automobile sections. The street. On the opposite side, a sequence of windows.
Above the buildings, a section of sky, across which clouds track.
clouds of clouds