It was the third week since he had abandoned the Contemporary Art Museum project after the meeting that would seal his professional fate. "Absence of contrasts," he murmured, compulsively leafing through the annotated margins of Being and Time that he devoured during his insomnia. Each page bore feverish scribbles in his own handwriting: "Modern technology reveals beings as available stock," "Being-in-the-world is not spatial, it is spatializing," "Anxiety unveils nothingness