Blog-girls post “Behind These Hazel Eyes” in earnest;  Stew finds a relatively obscure poem and finds that everything, everything is Illuminated, right here, summed up, immortalised in a Tarot archetype, the sum of the Postmodern world and his own paranoid place in it:

“there is nothing inside me but a large wound,
a hollow place where no one goes,
a windowless present, a thought that returns
and repeats itself, reflects itself
and loses itself in its own transparency,
a mind transfixed by an eye that watches
it watching itself till it drowns itself
in clarity:”

- Octavio Paz, “Sunstone”