An Amusement Park for Marcel Marceau in Tlรถn, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius
Marcel Marceau had just finished work. He has become so brilliant at work that everyone came to watch his mime. Photos of his painted white face are all over the paper. The news praised him for the highly abstracted, yet extremely precise representation of man; the world is amzed by the power of his solo silent acts.
Just like any other day, audiences had left after their long applause and the curtains are dropped down. Marcel Marceau sat on the stage alone in silence, looking around at his black and white world, when he realized he has forgotten how to dream.
He thought of some stories he read a long time ago, about a place call Tlรถn, or Uqbar, he could barely recall.* He shakes his head and tries to forget this utterly absurd memory.
This is when he comes upon his own amusement park.
*He did remember all nations of this planet are congenitally idealist. The world is a heterogeneous series of independent acts. It is successive and temporal, not spatial. Things convoked and dissolved in a moment, according to poetic needs, determined by mere simultaneity.