Catching himself in the act of seeking reassurance from images he wondered where the mirrors ever stopped. To forget himself was to be a mirror by which the world reflected itself, and to forget himself entirely was to be the sole such mirror without a world. So to be-there was to infringe and then to generate cascading ripples of response that seemingly retained the imprint of his form, but in a something else. Before he could seek his image he needed to make this other into a mirror. But it was only later that there was any talk of need, for now it was only fascination. It was the spacing that was so fascinating, there hadn't been a here before there was a there, and once there was a there the here became an absence, a crossed-out there. It was this kind of thing that made the transmission of similitudes possible or else it was the similitudes that made transmission possible. Transmission and alteration and confluence and diremption immediately set to work to create another world within the world which turned out to be nothing but the world, but now with him inside it, forever lost, but inside it. No wonder that this mirror play threw him the substantial name of subject, and scattered him among a myriad of other subjects like shards of a broken mirror.