The war is beginning, W. says. The forces of the great battle are assembling.

He feels like Arjuna in the great battle of the Bhagavad Gita, W. says. He feels like the great warrior who had thrown aside his bow and sunk to his knees. Why should he fight?, he wailed. Why should he go on? And that’s what W. wails: why should he fight? Why should his  go on?

Krishna comforted Arjuna by granting him a divine vision. The warrior was granted a vision of Krishna’s celestial form: the entire cosmos turning in the body. He saw the light of God, the Lord of Yoga, as a fire that burns to consume all things. He saw a million divine forms in the fire, and the manifold forms of the universe united as one …

'What does your celestial form look like?', says W. 'Go on, show me'. Actually, he thinks he's already seen it, W. says, or parts of it. My vast, white belly. My flabby arms. The trousers that billow round my ankles …

And my dancing, my terrible dancing. It’s end of the cosmos that W. sees in my cosmic dance. It’s the destruction of the divine forms, and of the manifold forms of the universe. He sees the putting out of the stars. He sees the extinguishing of the sun, and the night swallowing the day. He sees the opposite of the act of creation, the opposite of cosmogony …

(from Dogma)