Throughout my writings, I insist on calling my lounge “livingroom” instead of “living room,” as English on both sides of the Atlantic demands. Why? It just crossed my mind that it could have something to do with Lebensraum, a medieval notion across German lands that came into full bloom with the Nazis. Hitler made it the very cornerstone of his geopolitical objectives. As far as I am concerned, my livingroom is literally my “living space” or my “habitat” rather than my lounge. It is my world entire. In it, I am the sublimation of the human species from its origins to its decline. Ranged around my livingroom, my boards form an iconostasis that reaches out in both space and time. In fact, it reaches beyond space and time. Lebensraum is thus but a small part of my own notion of “livingroom.” As such, it can only serve to illustrate my conception of the world in which I live. My world, my lounge.