Fascism is not revealed by shining the light of history on its current motley manifestation. Looking backward only reveals the fears and expectations of today, not the hot furnace of resentment and rage, the enduring resistance to modernism that feeds fascism. What must be seen is invisible, a multitude of tiny formations that have mutated to survive the pressure of enlightened reason, a swirling asteroid belt of fragments that have lost form but retains coherence. Umberto Eco named it Ur-Fascism eternal fascism, always present, waiting to regain a popular base, fueled by an overwhelming desire to return to tradition and away from an unknown future. Liberal hope is different, it does not shatter in unsettled times but simply vanishes, receding into the dark matter of despair. However, a distant echo endures, perhaps a dream, undefeated in endless struggles of resistance, always ready to break into bloom and begin again making the impossible possible, making a world that never was but our imagination tells us can be.