reins have frozen into the steering column, capable of demonstrating the motor's explosive force at any given time. Every hunter appears to be as swift as an arrow being pulled by a large number of horses. An arrow as a photo tourist, aiming at the destruction of sight-seeing destinations mirrored in glossy magazines.
The ancient bowman was above all concerned with marksmanship beyond his arm's length
Today's 'bowman' is always an arm's length ahead. His price-competitive and unromantically pre-ordered hunting prey packed in the trunk, he blinds the oncoming traffic without causing cost-relevant wounds. Sometimes the gleaming mobilized quivers collide and the resulting mutual wounds become visible in the press. What remains is the fundamental question of reason. Who practices restraint in 'order and beauty'?
Arrows with barbs for the view. Or are they gigantic knives? Cutters of our consciousness?
Says Apollo to the Maenads: You only have the choice between straight ahead, left or right. To the left is the most cumbersome option for the following flock and therefore is only rarely permitted. Hurry up, decide now! If you feel the need to stop, then keep to the right, unless, of course, you are on a one-way street.