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a whole new Order of anthropological experience seemed to burst open and fulgurate before me, its pieces glittering and dancing madly

There were still unfinished bits, though: gaping lacunae where the carapace gave way to reveal guttery of half-laid floors

the more generic, therefore, the more pure, the closer to an unvariegated or unscrambled archetype.

in the no-man’s-land between its territory and the next, the blank stretches of the map, those interstitial zones where light, bending and kinking round impossible topographies, produces mirages

The Company’s logo was a giant, crumbling tower. It was Babel, of course, the old biblical parable. It embodied one of Peyman’s signature concepts. Babel’s tower, he’d say, is usually taken to be a symbol of man’s hubris. But the myth, he’d carry on, has been misunderstood. What actually matters is…