“There are sentences deep as lovers’ beds,” writes Hélène Cixous. “Sentences which are epoch-making, keys, books of magic spells, philosophy treatises.” --@dreamsofbeing_
It’s funny how Postmodernism has gone from a bogeyman, to a staple of Academia, & now has almost evaporated as an identifiable notion. Melanie’s professors in the Oughts at Southern Methodist University–“SMU”–(a place rooted in tradition, although once upon a time it attracted several thousands for a TS Eliot reading, i discovered) couldn’t put together two sentences without using the jargon. Now, as genre bleeds into genre, pop culture cannibalizes itself ever more recursively (there is such thing as nostalgia for styles of the early twenty-teens), & the sense of the past flattens to illegibility, there are still Halloween costumes for kids who can go as “hippies”, but i wouldn’t even know what kind of insult i was receiving to be attacked as a Postmodernist.
How ghosts watch the lights of the living.
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