And yet, somewhere, I think, there will be some dark spot, some shadow, your light won’t touch, at first. You will sit on your throne, and see, somewhere, some small imperfection in your “absolute” power: a small province, maybe, that is obviously skirting the rules, a region with a few struggling rebels hiding in the mountains, or the more irksome problem of an obsequious governor whose perfect obedience is tempered by that same unquenchable hunger that drives you to conquest upon conquest. Just one loose thread that you can’t tuck away. Snip, snip; you’re wise enough not to pull the whole tapestry apart. That is when you will meet the hydra. Snip, snip, snip. There will always be an edge, always something that needs correcting. If you are as sagacious as I take you, you might even come to the end and make a set, firm border. You will be done, but what of those trimmings? Once you have defined perfectly what is, you will find that there is an infinite isn’t you aren’t, and that you have been feeding it for quite some time.
The Isn’t
