Monthly Archives: August 2010

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Antonin Artaud: Van Gogh, the Man Suicided by Society (1947)

…while living in woods near her old home.

Miriam Basilio: Corporal Evidence: Representations of Aileen Wuornos (1996)

Yes, I would just like to say I’m sailing with the rock, and I’ll be back, like Independence Day with Jesus. June 6, like the movie. Big mother ship and all, I’ll be back, I’ll be back.

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desert

And it is as though, in consequence, my days had rearranged themselves. No longer do they jostle on each other’s heels. Each stands separate and upright, proudly affirming its own worth. And since they are no longer to be distinguished as the stages of a plan in process of execution, they so resemble each other as to be superimposed in my memory, so that I seem to be ceaselessly reliving the same day. –Tournier, Michel. Friday (or the Other Island).  p204.

If his stay on the island was to be a long one, his survival would depend on this legacy bequeathed him by shipmates whom he must now presume to be dead. The wise course would have been to start immediately on the salvage operations, which presented great difficulties to a man working singlehanded. However, he did not do so, telling himself that by lightening the vessel he would render her more vulnerable to any puff of wind and thus endanger his own best chance of getting away. The truth was that he felt an overwhelming reluctance to undertake any kind of work which would suggest that he was settling down on the island. Not only did he cling to the belief that his stay would be short, but he had a superstitious feeling that in making any attempt to organize his life here he would be dismissing the […] –Tournier, Michel. Friday (or the Other Island). p22.

“Goodbye, I’m leaving and I won’t look back.” At infinity, these refrains must rejoin the songs of the Molecules, the newborn wailing of the fundamental Elements, as Millikan put it. They cease to be terrestrial, becoming cosmic: when the religious Nome blooms and dissolves in a molecular pantheist Cosmos, when the singing of the birds is replaced by combinations of water, wind, clouds, and fog. “Outside, the wind and the rain …” The Cosmos as an immense deterritorialized refrain. –Deleuze & Guattari. A Thousand Plateaus. p327.

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