The clock on the shelf is not centred but so close to the optimum the effect is jarring, as if the turning world has grit in the gears. Order is constructed but by its nature is temporary keeping chaos at bay and on a slack leash that is liable to fray, and snap. All I know, all I judge is false. Change being unpredictable we fight to keep balance, to not stumble and maintain a pretense of certainty.