The fear of being unable to say everything seizes us not only when we are faced with an infinity of names but also with an infinity of things.
Quisquis amat ranam, ranam putat esse Dianam [whosoever loves a frog, thinks that frog Diana].
Finally, we come to the Mother of all Lists, infinite by definition because it is in constant evolution, the World Wide Web, which is both web and labyrinth, not an ordered tree, and which of all vertigos promises us the most mystical, almost totally virtual one, and really offers us a catalogue of iinformation that makes us feel wealthy and omnipotent, the only snag being that we don't know which of its elements refers to data from the real world and which does not, no longer with any distinction between truth and error.
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