"Our [Lyotard's and mine] peasant ancestors, it has to be said, came from the same lost village in the Upper-Loire plateau. It is called Moudeyres. In Moudeyres' cemetery, almost everyone is either a Badiou or a Lyotard, reconciled not so much by death as by the unfathomable density of time." --Alain Badiou, Pocket Pantheon (2009)

"What the Ants Don't Know"

prismatic balloon
bobbing on the air currents
blisters on kittens
Zurvan OTC

my unbelief has razors
against any color
but gray
spiralled down
in the long storm
the half empty parking lot at dusk
bridges burned at twenty
negotiated aches
waits in cold halls
that add up to nothing
the back of the tapestry
encrypted with rodent gnawings


"w00t weep, w00t fight, w00t fast, w00t tear thyself,
w00t drink up eisel, eat a crocodile?"

--Hamlet V.1 (260-1)


Live for Today.


Raumism. (via Metafilter)