
And that was his conclusion: although every successive generation of human beings develops new art, literature, and technology, all of these are, at best, reiterations of those that have proceeded them. This is not to discount the creative force between each iteration, for it is singularly magnificent. Yet it is to underscore the futility, the hidden futility of these endeavors, that in the biggest possible picture they are merely clones, parallels, and duplicates of something else. And what's the point?
So, the writer observes, it is this: we will only find genuine newness when we look for more than that of which we think newness consists.
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