I think some, though by no means all, aspects of the map are not bad.
Proposed changes to the map are due to be submitted to the court by July 14, and the responses a week later.
In that book, a character remarks wistfully that "the big blank spaces in the map are all being filled in, and there's no room for romance anywhere".
Many of the scribbles on the map are just names, or tidbits like, "I lived here, 1989," more like graffiti tags than pieces of historical information.
However, I'm afraid that's precisely the situation described by Borges's fragment: the tattered remains of the map are themselves the rendition of desert they litter.
On the map are roads coming from Portus and Ostia, the port cities. Via Appia, the Appian Way, shooting up from the south, straight as an arrow.
Some of the sacred sites are nearby but not all are mapped, and not all those on the map are in the right place.
With the Democratic National Convention underway in Denver, politically-minded musicians from all points on the map are heading to the Mile High City.
There is a Google map, but critics wonder if visitors realise the dashes on the map are the Green Line, marking the pre-1967 borders.
In the western Deserts, tattered Fragments of the Map are still to be found, Sheltering an occasional Beast or beggar; in the whole Nation, no other relic is left of the Discipline of Geography.
The largest areas on the map are, of course, the two principal camps, but the map also shows, coming up from South Carolina, a swath of territory dominated by mustard-based sauce.
