There is nothing that leads to nothing.
Even to sit in a room, quiet and nude
as Blaise Pascal, will have some effect
on Tanzania maybe, or on New Guinea,
just as the beating wings of a lepidopter--
according to the proverb about butterflies in Peru--
could incite a tidal wave in Shanghai,
or knock down an Iraqi helicopter.
And so we become ourselves, hypocrite lecteur,
at the very least accomplices, you and I.
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