I'd like to sit outside and talk with you, about being, about the wind. How most days its softness is pleasant and silent, but then, when the gales come one will know what strength lies in things unseen.
“We’ve been waiting for a call all our life now, and, although the nature and the origin of our call remains quintessentially a mystery to us, we can’t help but hope that it will provide us with a purpose we’ve long lived without.”—
Qohen Leth, character in Terry Gilliam’s movie The Zero Theorem.
The idea that paranoia, and the machinery of oppression, can be conveyed with unquerulous calm, as they are by Kafka, and that they might seem even more daunting as a result, has never occurred to Gilliam, and it never will. —Anthony Lane in a New Yorker review of The Zero Theorem
“I was entirely happy. Perhaps we feel like that when we die and become a part of something entire, whether it is sun and air. or goodness and knowledge. At any rate, that is happiness; to be dissolved into something complete and great. When it comes to one, it comes as naturally as sleep.”—Willa Cather, from My Antonia (via violentwavesofemotion)
blackbunny Apropos of nothing, am now wondering WTF is a “metafuck”? & what would it take 2 become a “big bad mean — shut Ur mouth — metafucka”? Is it anything like being a metapornographer who takes innocent metareferents & turns them into something their metaparents don’t recognize?
pinkbunny I remember a short story in which a woman managed to lure back her ex - who’d just left her - for a fuck and, just as she’s gotten her girlfriend warmed up, she walked out of the room. Oh wait, that’s a revenge fuck. At the very least it’s a fuck about a fuck and so kinda meta…
blackbunny If “metafuck” has nothing 2 do w/ the conventionality of physically fucking flesh, then the only thing left 2 fuck w/ iz the mind. On that basis, I would dub the story of yr friend’s revenge fuck that U recalled so brilliantly & incredibly fast as one super-mean “metafuck”.
My metatarsals R killing me (how R yours?),
pinkbunny I feel the need to repeat that I read that tale in a short story rather than in a friend’s behavior.
blackbunny Okay, now I want a T-shirt that reads “Big Bad Mean — shut Ur mouth — Metafucka” in small print!
And if Michael Brown was not angelic, I was practically demonic. I had my first drink when I was 11. I once brawled in the cafeteria after getting hit in the head with a steel trash can. In my junior year I failed five out of seven classes. By the time I graduated from high school, I had been arrested for assaulting a teacher and been kicked out of school (twice.) And yet no one who knew me thought I had the least bit of thug in me. That is because I also read a lot of books, loved my Commodore 64, and ghostwrote love notes for my friends. In other words, I was a human being. A large number of American teenagers live exactly like Michael Brown. Very few of them are shot in the head and left to bake on the pavement.
The “angelic” standard was not one created by the reporter. It was created by a society that cannot face itself, and thus must employ a dubious “morality” to hide its sins. It is reinforced by people who have embraced the notion of “twice as good” while avoiding the circumstances which gave that notion birth. Consider how easily living in a community “with rough patches” becomes part of a list of ostensible sins. Consider how easily “black-on-black crime” becomes not a marker of a shameful legacy of segregation but a moral failing.