There are facts, hard-truths, inevitabilities both misery and the impulse to avoid it hang over as a certainty a body that wishes for an ideal approach a way of going about the human briefness which might integrate each of these for-sures and most-definitelys, without attempting to divide that which is good from the rest as that impulse seems to starve one for death in the hope that on the other side something might forgive the absurdity of a bracketed timeline with its unavoidable chronological awful moments and perhaps this is why history is a dangerous subject, like literature, in which morality and effects are held up to causes and endings which stir patriotism, fear, reminiscences casting into shadow the past, into dazzling the future splitting lines, parsing words, primarily to course the correct path for a thing that apparently only happens once, without doubt always.