Big, One: “the three dimensions of Epic” in fantasy and myth — our main reprieves from the depressingly hurried, lean, mass-produced now. Slow liberates from “endlessly adapting to changes that dont matter”; the farther a mythical age into the past, the more spacious its timescale: “we lust for millennia” even if what we can call ourselves is hardly centuries old. Daydreaming undisturbedly — as the world rushes by towards panpraxis — is adorable but what we really crave is to speed up the world, not turn into frozen idols ourselves; even better, wed want to slow-mo the life we touch (but let it catch up when we look away) — to pack a maximum of perception and thinking into each physical tick, to live ages in outside-observers days: to gain in density and length (as in the known positive correlation between productivity and lifespan). Slow is also a way of acting adverbially — minimizing haste, disruption, fuss, avoiding irreversibles (undo); its a minimum-curvature spline through the given points that maximizes organic beauty: evolution is slow.

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