secret societies, clubs, discussion groups, windows into a life, into lives, lived. a veneer, shiny patina, and underneath it all, guck and grime, churning gears with venting steam pipes, the clunk clunk clunk of chain driven machinery, and it's gone, looking behind the curtain, seeing the wizard, it's gone. but in its place, from the ashes of dashed hopes or dreams or idealizations, arises knowledge, and like a fine wine to an appreciative palate, nuances, hints and flavors, subtleties, whisps and catches of tastes, and a simple enjoyable thing is now enjoyable in a different way, for its intrigue, its confoundation, the fractal nature of knowing