It mistakes the marketing for content in a mash of Oprah Winfrey MANIFEST DESTINY, Marshall McLuhan, and well aged puritanism.It is a 14 year old girl. By accident she created the greatest Myspace profile in the world, but now she has to violently alter her life so that it could appear that one resulted from the other. But she doesn't know that the profile didn't HAVE to exist. She's made a mistake, thinking both are chosen.
How many times can I say the words "You can't lie your way into Heaven" in a 4 day stretch?
Yes Calgary.
And especially when I am in you: I am a Catholic.
It is the only way that I can make sense to you...there's other names, but I can't ask you to imagine what you cannot imagine. It feels like a head full of cat hair, allergic when I think of you and the crown of your head rubbing on the carpet...YOU KNOW something is there, but that part of your head can't make out shape at all. If you'd just turn your head, I swear your cheek would tell you that the empty streets are like that because you are not on them.
3 comments:
From my holiday (and cixous):
"The thing that is both known and unknown, this is what we are looking for when we write. We go toward the best known unknown thing, where knowing and not knowing touch, where we hope we will know what is unknown. Where we hope we will not be afraid of understanding the incomprehensible, facing the invisible, thinking the unthinkable, which is, of course, thinking. Thinking is trying to think the unthinkable: thinking the thinkable is not worththe effort. Painting is trying to paint what you cannot paint and writing is writing what you cannot know before you have written: it is preknwoing and not knowing, blindly, with words. It occurs at the point where blindness and light meet."
and from Kafka:
"Before setting foot in the Holy of Holies, youmust take off your shoes, yet not only your shoes, but everything; you must take off your travelling-garment and lay down your luggage; and under that you must shed your nakedness and everything that is under the nakedness and everything that hides beneath that, and then the core and the core of the core, then the remainder and then the residue and then een the Holyt of the Holies and let yourself be absorbed by it; neither can resist the other."
and from H. Cixous again...
(I hope you will forgive me if I use the word "truth" I excpect people to ask: "what is truth?" "Does truth exist?" Let us imagine that it exists. The word exists, therefore the feeling exists.)
sorry I couldn't find you before I left, thinking about you all the time in a lonely place, but arent' places always lonely when you first get there and they are filled by boring fucking american middle class tourists and eco-hippys. My tent is quiet and my books are good. not too much to compalin about. "wish you were here" never had quite the same ring as it does now.
I had to post to you, the quotes got me out of bed.
From my holiday (and cixous):
"The thing that is both known and unknown, this is what we are looking for when we write. We go toward the best known unknown thing, where knowing and not knowing touch, where we hope we will know what is unknown. Where we hope we will not be afraid of understanding the incomprehensible, facing the invisible, thinking the unthinkable, which is, of course, thinking. Thinking is trying to think the unthinkable: thinking the thinkable is not worththe effort. Painting is trying to paint what you cannot paint and writing is writing what you cannot know before you have written: it is preknwoing and not knowing, blindly, with words. It occurs at the point where blindness and light meet."
and from Kafka:
"Before setting foot in the Holy of Holies, youmust take off your shoes, yet not only your shoes, but everything; you must take off your travelling-garment and lay down your luggage; and under that you must shed your nakedness and everything that is under the nakedness and everything that hides beneath that, and then the core and the core of the core, then the remainder and then the residue and then een the Holyt of the Holies and let yourself be absorbed by it; neither can resist the other."
and from H. Cixous again...
(I hope you will forgive me if I use the word "truth" I excpect people to ask: "what is truth?" "Does truth exist?" Let us imagine that it exists. The word exists, therefore the feeling exists.)
sorry I couldn't find you before I left, thinking about you all the time in a lonely place, but arent' places always lonely when you first get there and they are filled by boring fucking american middle class tourists and eco-hippys. My tent is quiet, booze is duty free here, and my books are good. not too much to compalin about. "wish you were here" never had quite the same ring as it does now.
I had to post to you, the quotes got me out of bed.
Yes, yes.
This got me thinking even more about my trip to Calgary, and how the clearest memories are of the airport, coming and going.
They have internet in survivalist club-med? Who knew.
Where 2006 had me wrestling with the paths that lead to redemption, 2007 would see me wondering what one does upon arrival. The Kafka quote stinks of what I've been on about lately.
You are well missed here, my friend.
Eco-hippy....all that means is that you could be in the deepest jungle of Papua New Guinea, munching on your friend with some of the locals and there'd be some asshole telling you about how the Plains Indians used EVERY PART OF THE BUFFALO(this bit always got relayed to me in school with a tinge of white-man guilt. Later, when I knew better about the industrial processes used in meat processing, the pride exploded in me.
"WE DO TOO", they'd be so proud.)
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