Is it possible that truth is always retrospective? That truth– a truth, The truth– is only accessible after the fact? We live in a culture of immediacy– one perpetually suspended in contemporaneity– a state of overstimulated amnesia, according to some, in which we are incapable of imagining any future except as another version of the present. Thus odds are most of us would more readily recognize a photo of Justin Bieber than, say, this fellow right here:
analepsis 