What if The Apocalypse is a slow, incremental, inexorable accumulation of details, like a still death as opposed to a still life? The result would be a study in human of rot and decay instead of the classic still life of fruit in a bowl rendered as an exercise in contrast, color, shadows, and light. The new still life/death represents historical moments frozen in time like photographs of a dream, a nightmare. The accumulation of these details becomes a crime scene in waiting, lacking only a single change agent to complete the cycle of madness, greed, and corruption. What if, then, the final solution to the human condition is a still life with an apocalypse? This book is something like that, a modern Babylon revisited.
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