Perhaps it can also be added that what is also thereby lost from the postmodern is modernity as such, in the sense in which that word can be taken to mean something specific and distinct from either modernism and modernization. Indeed, our old friends base and superstructure seem fatally to reimpose themselves: if modernization is something that happens to the base, and modernism the form the superstructure takes in reaction to that ambivalent development, then perhaps modernity characterizes the attempt to make something coherent out of their relationship. Modernity would then in that case describe the way "modern" people feel about themselves; the word would seem to have something to do not with the products (either cultural or industrial) but with the producers and the consumers, and how they feel either producing the products or living among them. This modern feeling now seems to consist in the conviction that we ourselves are somehow new, that a new age is beginning, that everything is possible and nothing can ever be the same again; nor do we want anything to be the same again, we want to "make it new," get rid of all those old objects, values, mentalities, and ways of doing things, and to be somehow transfigured. "Il faut etre absolument moderne," cried Rimbaud; we have to be somehow absolutely, radically modern; which is to say (presumably) that we have to make ourselves modern, too; it's something we do, not merely something that happens to us. Is this the way we feel today, in full Postmodernism? We certainly don't feel ourselves living among dusty, traditional, boring, ancient things and ideas. Apollinaire's great poetic outburst against the ancient buildings of 1910 Europe, and against the very space of Europe itself: "A la fin tu es las de ce monde ancien!" (you're suddenly sick and tired of this antiquated world!) probably does not express the contemporary (the postcontemporary) feeling about the supermarket or the credit card. The word new doesn't seem to have the same resonance for us any longer; the word itself is no longer new or pristine. What does that suggest about the postmodern experience of time or change or history?