just another wordpress weblog? yeah, right. sure. fine.
July 12th, 2011 § 2 comments § permalink
“Facebook seems to want to pull everything in to its playground,whereas Google seem rather more inclined to make their toys show up wherever you already are. Sometimes,anyway –although I sense their thinking about all this is probably as confused as mine is.” One of Michael O’Conner Clarke’s excellent Thoughts on Google+ this morning.
Which is certainly more human of Google. Being confused. Though it feels odd to say so. Read the rest of this entry »
June 16th, 2011 § 2 comments § permalink
After reading Partial Objects today, an amazing post, all about things like Lacan and the Soul—
All I know is, my soul is a pest. Or whatever that internal thing is that has kept yammering away, lo these many decades. Always with a very clear idea of what is right. Read the rest of this entry »
June 9th, 2011 § 3 comments § permalink
“Why does time slow down when we fear for our lives?” asks Burkhard Bilger in The New Yorker
Oh, but it doesn’t—or rather, not only then. Not at all. Anything fantastic enough, witnessed, will do the trick.
Read the rest of this entry »
May 21st, 2011 § 4 comments § permalink
From The Last Time Anyone Was Happy:
I tore out the door the moment I heard the truck. R.T. slowly got out, leaned back against the hood and lit a cigarette like he had all the time in the world. Looking at me through the smoke, in that infuriating way he had.
“You got anything on under that T-shirt?” he said. Read the rest of this entry »
May 9th, 2011 § Comments Off § permalink
Of all the scenes in the book, the one most resembling the later life of the Tolstoys is not a Levin-Kitty scene, but the final row between Vronsky and Anna just before she goes out to throw herself under a train. Tolstoy’s mastery of the feat of simultaneously putting the reader inside the heads of both characters as well as his own, as if the ball is being tossed from Anna to Vronsky to the narrator at high speed without ever being dropped, is one of the supreme moments of craft in all fiction … James Meek, LRB
… A statement so disarming, I had to go find it.
Read the rest of this entry »
April 9th, 2011 § 2 comments § permalink
Burning down the cloth house. Have you a shred of a chance of realizing all that you know in your heart are your dreams withheld, stifled, lost? And does this loss, what you have already lost and what will come, does it resonate anywhere? Or do your struggles as women rise and disappear like waves in the ocean, what does one woman matter, in a world you know is Wrong. Misguided, stupid to the core. Could you do better with one little finger than the men you refuse to call, anymore, leaders. And don’t you have to live with the terrible obviousness. Your perfect skill to find the moral balance midst conflict. Isn’t it all a big pissing contest, no more than gang behavior … and aren’t you, as a woman, with your maternal, familial skills, aren’t you the hope of the world?
{ fin }
February 27th, 2011 § 3 comments § permalink
As a result of the blending of reality and fantasy, some women have chosen to willingly play along by a new set of rules in order to keep their men interested: They’re intentionally impersonating porn stars. Sadie, a real-estate agent, says, “A lot of guys have come to expect P.S.E. [the “Porn-Star Experience”] as a common thing—snatches waxed bald, access to every hole—and plenty of women are more than happy to provide. A few might enjoy it, but for most it’s harrowing. I think there’s a fear that if they can’t make it happen, their boyfriend will retreat online.” New York Magazine
February 21st, 2011 § Comments Off § permalink
Oh go ahead. Hit full screen. They don’t come much more beautiful than this. And with that iconic sound. Think of it—two notes that not only speak the Sixties—and honey, if you don’t know the level of social unrest of the Sixties, the assassinations, the deaths, you don’t really know America, nor what lazy, lulled shits we have, as a country, become—but here they go all over again, those notes, these lyrics, Chuck D, and, in such a beauty move, Steven Stills … Read the rest of this entry »
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