Sometimes something as mundane and silly as putting on the screensaver does something to you, something radical. They are only photographs being slowly expanded across my screen, but somehow that balletic grace shines through. I imagine what sort of wonder they would have elicited just a century before, and here I am, blasé enough about them to display them on my screen when I’m not looking at them. To think that Marlowe’s Faust, when given a choice of limitless power, chose, as his first task, to fly high above the earth just to check the accuracy of the Renaissance maps, and here we are zooming in on our planet every few seconds each time we want to go to the next place we’re meeting a friend in, without having to sign our souls over to the devil first. It’s a wonder we still have the capacity for wonder at the beautiful thing, and it’s a wonder that I can, after so long, feel it again.