“Time is the tiger that mangles me.”
This third man was also the one who once argued – uneasily, as even he admitted – that the construct of time was refutable, and that every man was a lie, an illusion strung together from discrete moments, from a line of lone and momentary men. Yet each such blink of human was a packet of information from which the next could be derived, and the previous too, and therefore the entire chain was inescapable and ironbound.
It would therefore be reasonable to believe that a man who lacked the capacity for music at any one moment in time had likely lacked such capacity the moment before, and would lack it in the ever after.
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