Quite out of the blue someone started talking, and lacking something better to do, as knowledge for example, or maybe because of the specific, we delighted ourselves with infinite intricate words, like the patterns in an very smooth and oriental carpet, impossible to think about in one day.

So, we found ourselves talking about… how we would talk, because it was impossible for us not to become self reflexive and cautious, if not the very way we talk would be equal to that we think, and then we build, as Heidegger said, or if something remains above, or laterally, or in a Delleusian fold. Discourse we will with striate discursiveness about meta-discursivity, asking ourselves about egg and galina in a nobler form: what had been in the beginning? architecture or the sense of it? Because to whom likes hardboiled eggs as well as their fried genitrix, without any informative necessity about the “ante”, we regretfully bring the new that the meal is not equally tasteful. The need to talk about pleasure is a refined prolongation of pleasure and the only we will still tolerate! 

Actualised in words, the construction becomes handy/manipulable and no less transmissible. Poetics starts only so. Now and here (and if not us then who?) architecture is text, is discourse, is information, is message (…010 10 10 00 1 01 11 01 01 maybe this means something for somebody – noise or information), and its meaning has a new form in memory/tradition.

Viewing architecture in this way ladies and gentlemen, lecturers and lectureresses, leave the fable, be livresque and be our guests into meta-discourse.

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