December 18. Ballet always leaves me somewhere between fascinated and disturbed. This time rather disturbed. These movements that go beyond what the human body is normally capable of – transhuman, in other words. But the moment a machine would execute them, they would be worthless. (cf. distrust of virtuosity) I don’t want to measure something by whether it represents a special achievement for a human being, but by what it means, regardless of what kind of being performs it.