Thursday, February 11, 2010







Dallas errands, through Seattle weather
on top of all, i have to battle weather

he whispers poems in the coruscating night,
into the sudden window-rattle weather

these Chinese clothes, this coltan-hearted cell
twinge one's conscience mildly in chattel weather

a few charred skeletons guide the way · Graywyvern
sits in his car at a light, in prattle weather


"The Greeks did not invent the poem. Rather, they interrupted the poem with the matheme." --Badiou, op cit


"...Lu Xun: 'Hope cannot be said to exist, or can it be said not to exist. It is just like the roads across the earth. For actually the earth had no roads to begin with, but when many men pass one way, a road is made.' " --Jean-Fran├žois Lyotard, postmodern fables (tr G Van Den Abeele, 1997)


Sometimes it seems as if we are getting to the point where any two humans can barely just tolerate each other, & retreat into solitary entertainment at every available opportunity. and this unacknowledged atmosphere of fear, anger, and despair lends its taste to every perception, like a brackishness in the water--a taste without a name because its absence is unknown.


The gift of color. (via 3 Quarks Daily)


Liber Novus. (via Metafilter)


Ten Famous Literary McGuffins.


Urbanomic IV. (Also.)


"If someone took the gamble of an object-oriented theology, the omniscient God of monotheism might be abandoned in favor of something resembling Cthulhu, the sleeping monstrosity of H.P. Lovecraft."

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