Where is the wildness in the Garden of Eden? Have the ruins of Babylonia begun to despairingly chuckle at creatures beyond the myriad? Before disesteemed planets and knowledge, lay a kingdom surrounded by the throne of louvre and the scepter of love, cascaded in golden aura - broken by weak ones. We destroy what we create, we destroy what creates us; a hungry lion feasting on a hungry lion feasting on rabid prey. A clash of the titans and gold letters spilled, drowning in water it can’t exist in. “The tablets are lost! The tablets are lost!” cried Achilles. A slice of written and almost tangible wisdom dismembered by egoistic trade. Is there any prospect of illuminated desolation that can revel upon man, to place the power of creation into their entwined hands and influence the architect to build rather than destroy?