I'd like to renounce the sophistication which would permit me to sniff it with detached curiosity as yet another example of post-industrial decomposition. Art can never mean as much as a love affair, perhaps, or an insurrection. While avoiding work this morning I discovered an interesting essay on the history of radiation in the semiotext collection 'Looking Back on the End of the World'. Food for thought. Food for Wageningen.
Radiation is Expansion.
Don't do any task in order to get it over with. Resolve to do each job in a relaxed way, with all your attention. Enjoy and be one with your work. The feeling that any task is a nuisance will soon disappear if it is done in mindfulness. Russell's reconciliation to the idea of Heat Death .