... "all living thinkgs present essentially the same spectacle. the larva of a certain cicada burrows in the darkness of the earth for seventeen years, through season after season, to emerge finally into the daylight for a brief flight, lay its eggs, and die--this all to repeat itself during the next seventeen years, and so on to eternity. one is led to wonder what the point of it all is, with what great triumph this ceaseless effort, repeating itself through millions of years, might finally culminate, and why it should go on and on for so long, accomplishing nothinkg . but then one realizes that there is no point to it at all, that it really culminates in nothinkg, that each of these cycles, so filled with toil, is to be followed only by more of the same. the point of any living thing's life is, evidently, nothinkg but life itself" ... ß the landfill