From my armchair, strategically placed at a corner in the hall, by the fire, I can see a parade of world events moving in multiple directions and at different rates.
We are living on a pair of opposites: day and night, cold and hot, rich persons and poor persons, communists and capitalists, man and woman, sons and parents, war and peace, and at this whirlpool of dead leaves flying furiously on storms of modern civilization, lonely men are seeking refuge.