Words

Sat, 04 Jan 2014

Benjamin R. Tucker, Instead of a Book, 1893

... an intelligent minority, educated in the principle of Anarchism and determined to exercise that right to ignore the State upon which Spencer, in his "Social Statics," so ably and admirably insists, might, by setting at defiance the National and State banking prohibitions, and establishing a Mutual Bank in competition with the existing monopolies, take the first and most important step in the abolition of usury and of the State. Simple as such a step would seem, from it all the rest would follow.


posted at: 17:34 | path: | permanent link to this entry

Sat, 18 May 2013

The Temporary Autonomous Zone, Ontological Anarchy, Poetic Terrorism, Hakim Bey

The ancient concepts of jubilee and saturnalia originate in an intuition that certain events lie outside the scope of "profane time," the measuring-rod of the State and of History. These holidays literally occupied gaps in the calendar--intercalary intervals. By the Middle Ages, nearly a third of the year was given over to holidays. Perhaps the riots against calendar reform had less to do with the "eleven lost days" than with a sense that imperial science was conspiring to close up these gaps in the calendar where the people's freedoms had accumulated--a coup d'etat, a mapping of the year, a seizure of time itself, turning the organic cosmos into a clockwork universe. The death of the festival.


posted at: 12:05 | path: | permanent link to this entry

The Temporary Autonomous Zone, Ontological Anarchy, Poetic Terrorism, Hakim Bey

In our own post-Spectacular Society of Simulation many forces are working--largely invisibly--to phase out the nuclear family and bring back the band. Breakdowns in the structure of Work resonate in the shattered "stability" of the unit-home and unit-family. One's "band" nowadays includes friends, ex-spouses and lovers, people met at different jobs and pow-wows, affinity groups, special interest networks, mail networks, etc. The nuclear family becomes more and more obviously a trap, a cultural sinkhole, a neurotic secret implosion of split atoms--and the obvious counter-strategy emerges spontaneously in the almost unconscious rediscovery of the more archaic and yet more post-industrial possibility of the band.


posted at: 12:05 | path: | permanent link to this entry

Thu, 02 May 2013

Dinosaur Comics

"It wasn't to my taste at ALL. And the kicker is, I remembered it as being even sweeter! I realized that my tastes had changed long ago - that I'd never again be able to enjoy that cereal I remembered so vividly. I'd been chasing a dream that had somehow become impossible when I wasn't looking. And for who? For a child I knew decades ago, a child who had long since faded into adulthood - into me."

A Dinosaur Comic that parallels the below Gabriel Garcia Marquez quote. Except about cereal.

posted at: 00:22 | path: | permanent link to this entry

100 Years of Solitude, Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Upset by two nostalgias facing each other like two mirrors, he lost his marvelous sense of unreality and he ended up recommending to all of them that they leave Macondo, that they forget everything he had taught them about the world and the human heart, that they shit on Horace, and that wherever they might be they always remember that the past was a lie, that memory has no return, that every spring gone by could never be recovered, and that the wildest and most tenacious love was an ephemeral truth in the end.



posted at: 00:20 | path: | permanent link to this entry

A Fraction of the Whole (Steve Toltz)

I've come to the conclusion that reading the newspaper is sort of like drinking your own piss. Some people say it's good for you, but I don't believe it.



posted at: 00:14 | path: | permanent link to this entry

Narcissus and Goldmund, Herman Hesse

He thought that fear of death was perhaps the root of all art, perhaps also of all things of the mind. We fear death, we shudder at life's instability, we grieve to see the flowers wilt again and again, and the leaves fall, and in our hearts we know that we, too, are transitory and will soon disappear. When artists create pictures and thinkers search for laws and formulate thoughts, it is in order to salvage something from the great dance of death, to make something that lasts longer than we do. Perhaps the woman after whom the master shaped his beautiful madonna is already wilted or dead, and soon he, too, will be dead; others will live in his house and eat at his table—but his work will still be standing a hundred years from now, and longer. It will go on shimmering in the quiet cloister church, unchangingly beautiful, forever smiling with the same sad, flowering mouth.



posted at: 00:02 | path: | permanent link to this entry

Narcissus and Goldmund, Herman Hesse

But there is one realization all men of good will share: in the end our works make us feel ashamed, we have to start out again, and each time the sacrifice has to be made anew.



posted at: 00:01 | path: | permanent link to this entry

Wed, 01 May 2013

How the Poor Die, George Orwell

As I gazed at the tiny, screwed-up face it struck me that this disgusting piece of refuse, waiting to be carted away and dumped on a slab in the dissecting room, was an example of "natural" death, one of the you pray for in the Litany. There you are, then, I thought, that's what is waiting for you, twenty, thirty, forty years hence : that is how the lucky ones die, the one who lives to be old. One wants to live, of course, indeed one stays alive by virtue of the fear of death, but I think now, as I thought then, that it's better to die violently and not too old. People talk about the horrors of war, but what weapon has man invented that even approaches in cruelty some of the commoner diseases? "Natural" death, almost by definition, means something slow, smelly and painful.



posted at: 23:59 | path: | permanent link to this entry

Fri, 23 Apr 2010

Diane Arbus

"Most people go through life dreading they'll have a traumatic experience. Freaks were born with their trauma. They've already passed their test in life. They're aristocrats."


posted at: 01:11 | path: | permanent link to this entry

Mon, 19 Apr 2010

Satanic Verses, Salman Rushdie

"Fact is," he said without any of his usual bonhomie, "religious fafaith, which encodes the highest ass ass aspirations of human race, is now, in our cocountry, the servant of lowest instincts, and gogo God is the creature of evil."


posted at: 01:18 | path: | permanent link to this entry

Satanic Verses, Salman Rushdie

Maybe unhappiness is the continuum through which a human life moves, and joy just a series of blips, of islands in the stream. Or if not unhappiness, then at least melancholy.


posted at: 01:18 | path: | permanent link to this entry

Satanic Verses, Salman Rushdie

... not all possibilities are open to us. The world is finite; our hopes spill over its rim.


posted at: 01:18 | path: | permanent link to this entry

Satanic Verses, Salman Rushdie

She heard the word _p-a-c-h-y_, and had a bizarre vision of elephants lumbering down the Moscow Road, flattening Sunday news vendors. "What's a pachy?" she foolishly asked and the reply was stinging: "A brown Jew." She went on thinking of the proprietors of the local "C TN" (confectioner--tobacconist--newsagent) as _pach yderms_ for quite a while: as people set apart --rendered objectionable --by the nature of their skin. She told Gibreel this story, too. "Oh," he responded, crushingly, "an elephant joke." He wasn't an easy man.


posted at: 01:16 | path: | permanent link to this entry

Satanic Verses, Salman Rushdie

Don't teach me about exploitation. We had exploitation when youplural were running round in skins. Try being Jewish, female and ugly sometime. You'll beg to be black. Excuse my French: brown.


posted at: 01:16 | path: | permanent link to this entry

Sun, 27 Sep 2009

A Fraction of the Whole (Steve Toltz)

I think her love for me has nothing to do with me except proximity -- wrong place, wrong time. She loves me as a starving man loves whatever slop you put in front of him -- not a compliment to the cooking but a testament to his hunger. I'm the slop in this analogy.



posted at: 03:17 | path: | permanent link to this entry

Wed, 23 Sep 2009

A Fraction of the Whole (Steve Toltz)

Now I want you to know, I do not agree with the theory that all illness is made in the mind. Whenever someone says that to me, and blames all sickness on "negative thoughts," I think one of the ugliest, most uncharitable, angriest thoughts in my ugly, uncharitable, angry thought repertoire. I think: I hope to see you at your child's funeral so you can explain to me how your six-year-old daughter fabricated her own leukemia.



posted at: 01:17 | path: | permanent link to this entry

A Fraction of the Whole (Steve Toltz)

I realized suddenly that romantics are dickheads. There's nothing wonderful or interesting about unrequited love. I think it's shitty, just plain shitty. To love someone who doesn't return your affections might be exciting in books, but in life it's unbearably boring. I'll tell you what's exciting: sweaty, passionate nights. But sitting on the veranda outside the home of a sleeping woman who isn't dreaming about you is slow moving and just plain sad.



posted at: 01:16 | path: | permanent link to this entry

Fri, 20 Feb 2009

Satanic Verses, Salman Rushdie

Question: What is the opposite of faith?

Not disbelief. Too final, certain, closed. Itself a kind of belief.

Doubt.



posted at: 00:09 | path: | permanent link to this entry

Sun, 15 Feb 2009

Heart of Darkness, Joseph Conrad

There is a taint of death in lies -- which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world -- what I want to forget. It makes me miserable and sick, like biting something rotten would do.


posted at: 03:43 | path: | permanent link to this entry

Tue, 02 Dec 2008

Satanic Verses, Salman Rushdie

He filled himself up with God knows what, but he could not deny, in the small hours of his insomniac nights, that he was full of something that had never been used, that he did not know how to begin to use, that is, love. In his dreams he was so tormented by women of unbearable sweetness and beauty, so he preferred to stay awake and force himself to rehearse some part of his general knowledge in order to blot out the tragic feeling of being endowed with larger-than-usual capacity for love, without a single person on earth to offer it to.



posted at: 01:40 | path: | permanent link to this entry

Mon, 03 Nov 2008

Heart of Darkness, Joseph Conrad

It seems to me I am trying to tell you a dream--making a vain attempt, because no relation of a dream can convey the dream-sensation, that commingling of absurdity, surprise, and bewilderment in a tremor of struggling revolt, that notion of being captured by the incredible which is of the very essence of dreams. . . ."

He was silent for a while.

". . . No, it is impossible; it is impossible to convey the life-sensation of any given epoch of one's existence,--that which makes its truth, its meaning--its subtle and penetrating essence. It is impossible. We live, as we dream--alone. . . ."

I am, like, so emo..



posted at: 21:46 | path: | permanent link to this entry

Sun, 05 Oct 2008

Homage to Catalonia, George Orwell

It is the same in all wars; the soldiers do the fighting, the journalists do the shouting; and no true patriot ever gets near a front-line trench, except in the briefest of propaganda tours. Sometimes it is s comfort to me to think that the aeroplane is altering the condition of war. Perhaps when the next great war comes we may see the sight unprecedented in all history; a jingo with a bullet-hole in him.



posted at: 14:47 | path: | permanent link to this entry

Tue, 23 Sep 2008

Fathers and Sons, Turgenev

"But isn't it all the same to you what people think of you?"

"I don't quite know how to answer you. A real man ought not to worry about such things; a real man is not meant to be thought about, but is someone who must be either obeyed or hated."

Bazarov was a jerk.

posted at: 09:02 | path: | permanent link to this entry

Fathers and Sons, Turgenev

Pavel, on the contrary, a lonely bachelor, was entering into that indefinite twilight period of regrets which resemble hopes and of hopes which are akin to regrets, when youth is over and old age has not yet started.


posted at: 09:02 | path: | permanent link to this entry

Fathers and Sons, Turgenev

"Why do you disagree with free thought for women?" he asked in a low voice.

"Because, my lad, as far as I can see, free-thinking women are all monsters."



posted at: 09:02 | path: | permanent link to this entry