My week is like a muscle that stretches out, becomes spare, lacking anything, so that I barely lift my head to the morning mist. Then without warning, everything matters; my retinas explode.

The ordinal numbers are superbly infinite quantities; Take your ordinary natural (that is, whole) numbers (of which there are infinitely many) and imagine that each one blooms an infinite series of natural numbers. This whole collection, then, is still quite small in comparison to the ordinals.

Imagine this infinite collection of infinte series is like a sheet of paper, with inifinite symbols in each of infinite rows; this paper shall have one corner but stretch in width to infinity, and stretch in height to infinity as well. Can you picture the little glyphs, the infinitely various glyphs on this infinite piece of paper? Good. Now imagine two of these, three of these—an infinite ream of these papers, one sheet for each of the usual natural numbers.

This does not compare to the vastness of the ordinal numbers. Imagine taking this infinite set of things and duplicating it an infinite number of times; collect all the things produced and repeat, duplicating this new collection. Repeat ad infinitum.

You still have in your Royal Treasure Vault nothing like the ordinals.

Aeschylus says, after a storm: "we saw the sea blooming, and its flowers were dead Greeks and wrecks."

Anne Carson says, "Murderous little world once our objects had gazes."

An industrial tank truck is rife with cylinders, fittings, hoses.

It is not because there is nothing to see that most people have nothing to report, but because we fall asleep, we forget to look.