The theatrical discourse of Paris Takopoulos is as recognizable and distinct as his laughter. In his texts, whether they are poetry, novel, short story, or essay-critique, there is a constant dialogue. That is, everything is theater. Even the monumental Eastern, two-volume, Empty Testament, the most anarchic, linguistically and illogically technical, Greek novel-Iliad, as easily understandable as Joyce's Finnegans Wake, from the other Liffey river, is also theater. Something else, even if it is a side stream, natural, because it owes its biblical Genesis to the Last of the Monikins, his first one-act play, without beginning or end, which almost became the beginning of the end of the author himself. His theater is an act of his subversive discourse, and discourse as his subversive act, and it belongs to both the future and the present, and for this reason it is not in danger of becoming an overturned past.