the rigorous m

bits and bobs, quotes and catching up

Archive for March, 2010

poetry of the blase

Posted by rigorousm on March 31, 2010

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

— Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.

— Elizabeth Bishop, “One Art”

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fully exposed

Posted by rigorousm on March 24, 2010

If, in his post-1945 writings, Martin Heidegger makers recurrent use of the terms Heimatlosigkeit, or absence of homeland, to signify the human being’s existential orientation in the era of Gestell, then we would be wrong to imagine he is merely talking about the bygone naively of dwelling in rural homes and the moving of existence into urban habitation machines. More profoundly, the term “homeless” also suggests a denaturalization, in the sense of the human being’s banishment from its nautral air-envelope and re-settlement in climate controlled spaces; more radically still, the discourse of homelessness can be read as symbolizing the change of the epoch implied by the exodus out of all the protective niches and into latency. After psychoanalysis, not even the unconscious is usable as a home, nor is “tradition” after modern art, nor by any means “life” after modern biology.

– Sloterdijk, Terror from the Air pp. 60-61.

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toolkit

Posted by rigorousm on March 22, 2010

Or, attitudinal protection for the next six weeks. There is safety in playing–if not being– dumb.

Jarvis Cocker’s “I Never Said I Was Deep.” (on youtube)

Satirical Opus:
The happy man is half an idiot for whom all things flourish and bear fruit. He stands on his little estate, one hand holding a watering-can, the other pointing to himself as the navel of the world. Things sprout and blossom. Boughs heavy with fruit bend towards him.

– Klee’s journal, 1901.

Hiroki Azuma on the concept of “superflat” (here).

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as you were

Posted by rigorousm on March 3, 2010

She regarded compliments with disgust, they made her feel as though a rather blatantly alluring image of herself were being hacked out with a hatchet, and she was afraid of being deluded by it. She alone could think with due propriety about her own appearance. And she did so without the use of words, with a sort of affectionate certitude, a caress. Matheiu looked diffidently at Ivich’s slender shoulders, the straight, round neck. She often said: “I have a horror of people who are not conscious of their bodies.” Mathieu was conscious of his body, but rather as though it were a large and embarrassing parcel.

– Jean Paul Sartre, The Age of Reason, p. 71.

Three suspiciously beautiful days in a row. Today, heart-shaped balloon, much the worse for wear, detangles itself from its companions and escape, past the redredred facade of the Mexican food restaurant, heading west.

Another today, grey skies, constant drizzle, and all is right in Portland.

The emergence of sampling as a technique is conjoined with the continual possibility of being sampled. Not merely a manipulative technique of an information medium, sampling describes and ontological condition–the continual and structural chunk of information being copied and networked with another…. Crucial to this tactic is the prime facie aleatory character of the art of transduction itself–“recorded at arbitrary intervals”–which suggests an unfathomable origin, a continual differentiation that puts the very agency of creative production into disarray….

Indeed, this ontological exposure is registered on at least two intertwined strands: hope and terror. Hope fathoms the capacities for transformations complicit with being sampled. New surface areas of embodiment and deterritorialization are constantly exfoliating as technologies of informatic sampling blur the very landscape of “human” consciousness, rendering practices of autonomy, privacy, and propriety into entropic conceptual formations mostly good at propagating themselves…. Here information economies seem to enable little more than the acceleration and amplification of the most ancient of media: the rumor….

– Richard Doyle, “Close Encounters of the Nth Kind,” pp. 203-4, in ET Culture: Anthropologies in Outer Space, ed. D. Battaglia.

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