A strange ennui and distracted attention envelops the West today. Hat-tip to Simplicius’ Bones of Tomorrow, in which he reflects on a Culture that has become debased; its lures that used to trap us into the “Myth of the West” lie withered, as patently false idols. The dimming fire has squandered any sense of “magic” in the guttering West, or indeed of hope to recoup this something “lost.” It is the wistful realisation that – as it stands – the myth is never likely to offer...
