A faltering step towards fictionalising the current apocalypse

The thought that evades thinking in the hasty sketch she had made - a series of vague gestures in the air rather than an artefact, yet none the less redolent of intention, or was it protest - is that of quantum sociology (or social ontology)... which she glimpsed, or hearkened to, even if she would never be able to grasp or express what was being supposed by these grandiose-sounding labels. She was almost certainly clothed in white, with Arab lips and haughty eyebrows, and she was certainly a goddess, if the term had any meaning left, and she felt sure it did somehow, and that it still carried tremendous heft. Although she heckled her own thoughts as they rose in Plotinian or perhaps Batesonian fashion - thinking about thinking about thinking (about thinking). This last says Bateson, is reserved for deity, so perhaps she is along the right lines.

Since explanations, however futile, are demanded, it perhaps goes like this. The lodestone is the gathering of times (their enfolding) into one... a long, definitive but uncountable present (the terms fragment, which is of course the whole point), and the 'hall of mirrors' effect when this is considered across the range of scales that embrace this felt present... atomic, cellular, visceral, personal, local, national/ transnational, global, interplanetary, galactic et cetera (Stapledon, Plotinus) . Apart-accessible, 'local' (in a different way) is the process of health screening, insofar this is purportedly to do with the detection, prediction, and thus coming into being of disease (aka suffering, always there and newly-discovered). Applied to (conventionally socio-political) concepts of revolution, she is enthused and enfused with a tantalising shimmer of understanding , at once eroticised and melancholysed, for she is confident that at best a handful alive in the world today will understand her. And this makes her both sad and horny.