There must be an internal historicity within all the aspects of life. Irony keeps this historicity and the different paths within a roper dimension. Irony, something minute, found only in marginalia, in outskirts of all thinking. However, always within one's own mind. Irony, the play of shadows, the play of banality of life. It makes visible the distance between works, people, groups, classes, countries, climates, and genders, between thoughts of today and yesterday, between appearing and appearance.
