The angel of technology whose face is turned toward the past. Where we perceive a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe which keeps piling wreckage upon wreckage and hurls it in front of his feet. The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing from Paradise; it has got caught in his wings with such violence that the angel can no longer close them. This storm irresistibly propels him into the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows skyward. The storm is what we call progress.
Paraphrasing
Walter Benjamin, Illuminationen (Frankfurt am Main, 1961), p. 273; English version Illuminations, trans. Harry Zorn (London, 1970)
After
watching the latest Apple Event 12/09/2017
And remembering
Watching frantically three years ago