My lived experience is nothing like language. Nothing like concepts. Nothing like knowledge. Nothing like theory. Their scope in my being is microscopic. Yet their dominion in my mind… is monumental. I think us moderns have things backwards. We’re using a knife that only cuts our minds, and thinking ourselves the architects of meaning. The knife is stranger, and older than we know… and its histories… become our futures… in any situation where we no longer detect that which it cuts… before the knife becomes involved.