something heroic and desperate.”

Little did I know, the first time I visited La Villette, circa 1990, that the Cité des Sciences et de l’Industrie had taken over the carcass of a giant abandoned Parisian slaughterhouse. But I guess I guessed it: it was indeed a certain idea of ​​the man who was carried there to the slaughterhouse.

Not only did primitive touch screens flatten my fingers, but they also showed me, in colorful animation, that they were ultimately made, like all other parts of my body, of wire, of woven DNA. And that these same sons have emerged from the colossal mechanism of evolution. Which, in turn, were outwardly manipulated and startlingly cool by the icy arms of the planetarium’s spiral galaxies.

Soon we will disappear, like a face of sand, and of the sand itself, only this huge basalt stone will remain on which the robots of the perpetual exhibition have evolved, while their botanical versions play with luminous algae in tubes. which would soon serve as their batteries.

This was a flag in 1990: something heroic,