ON the banks of the stinking, wrecked Ciliwung River, sometimes there are birds, sometimes butterflies. Colors unnoticed.

And is it this, after all, that makes us believe, or not, that the world is frightening and depressing, or on the contrary is fascinating and orderly for behind it all there is masterful design?

The Ciliwung River looks cursed: plastic garbage, detergent waste, human squalor, choking weeds—signs of apathy or desp