Watching Lost in Translation, which I have seen so very many times before; but as for the cicak on the wall, I can tell that it's his first time, for his attention is rapt. He is the very picture of rapt attention. I'm watching the cicak watch Lost in Translation, and it occurs to me, as I less than raptly watch his rapt watching, that there are few things in God's creation more amazing than human teeth, most of which have now disappeared from my mouth. My lost dentition. Perfection can best be seen in its absence. These fake teeth, these imposters announce their imperfection moment by moment, glorifying God and the work of His hands. My tongue interprets these false teeth quite tirelessly, according to the testimony of perfection which lies in the memory of empty sockets. Remember us? Remember your teeth? We were a little bit younger than you, and have left the world a little bit sooner. "Your life, as you know it, is gone, never to return." At the end of the movie, Bill Murray whispers something in the young woman's ear, and we both know and do not know what he said. It all depends on what you see and hear, and how closely you are paying attention.
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