We are strangely losing our sense of perspective. A vision of a possible future does not emerge; it cannot be sketched out. History itself—both our own and that of civilization—is falling apart, losing its former, once coherent, metanarrative form. Finding ourselves in such a situation, we seem to implode—feeling an inner emptiness, losing our identity. We are like runners who remain in the same place. The “fold” is a peculiar “pathology” of time. A pathology that, as is often the case in medicine, allows us to discern the true and essential features of time.This book is about where we have ended up and what awaits us.Second edition with a new design.
