Pro Memoria File
As the chariot reached the palace, the Emperor stepped down, no longer feeling like a god, but like a man. He turned to the slave. "And tomorrow?"
The Emperor rode his golden chariot through the gates of Rome, the air thick with the scent of crushed laurel and the roar of a thousand cheering voices. He stood tall, invincible, his armor gleaming like a second sun. Pro Memoria
"Look at this," the Emperor muttered, gesturing to the eternal city. "My legacy is written in granite." As the chariot reached the palace, the Emperor
Great write-up about Tom Wolfe’s take on modern art. It’s funny how much our appreciation is guided by reaction and impulses that tend to settle and soften over time—hence the reason we see modern art in doctor’s offices and think nothing of it. It’s hard to imagine that book being published today, yet in its day it was a daring statement.