partisan of hate

tranquil without light

[antirelation]

une lyse totale de cet univers morbide

[supermariomamafucker]

they need to come up with more words like necrosis and miasma and mausoleum and cadaver and morose and decrepit and stuff like that just so metal bands can expand their vocabulary

[davidhudson]

Herbert Marcuse, July 19, 1898 – July 29, 1979.

[heavenly67]

the media made in the 2020s is gonna be remembered for its depictions of coercive power structures, our porcelain actors, ugly cartoons, and our collective wish that someone else would pick up the gun

[theinvertedwomb]

[jt1674]

Visit Original Link

[clemenzschlimm]

zhang huan

[narcotic-devotion]

i do not care about ur t4t puppyplay online relationship

[rabidwolf2point0]

Freaks tend to reason “sex is not inherently traumatizing, ergo molestation is not that bad. Just a perception thing.” I take the opposite perspective. I think sex is an inherently fraught, vulnerable, loaded experience. And it makes sense you need adult cognition and confidence to navigate it without repercussion. Even so, adults are fucked up by (ostensibly consensual!) sexual experiences all the time. Sex can be totally “consensual,” and still traumatizing. This doesn’t speak to the immature and undeveloped perspective of the victim. It speaks to the highly personal, vulnerable, fraught nature of sex itself in any capacity

[antirelation]

it’s at least partially why i can’t tolerate positing sex as “just another thing people do” in the weaving of an anti-moralist position. i’d say there’s a lot being disavowed in the solipsism of these arguments—besides an is/ought (liberationist) confusion. one does not need to regard sex as a sanctity to be protected in order to recognize it as contrary to both self and world, to its sociability and values, as an immanent disturbance; one’s supposed libidinal managing of the gap does not structurally seal it—as if that’s what one wants anyway…

[girlfleeshouse]

The house is symbolic of the rotting core of imperial ambitions.

[cavalier-consciousness]

+ Tadanobu Asano for Undercover SS01

[edwordsmyth]

Henry F. Farny, The Captive, 1885.

[antirelation]

What we call the corpus exanime is a suffering itself blackened by the incapacious assertion of its suffering; it is invaded, petrified by the gaze; but it can only experience itself as a hemorrhaging that precedes every object-relation, every moi, and that follows indifferently from the social death of its finite life. The disappearance of the moi/“I” and the corpus that can only accede to thought in as much as it disappears, is the sheer fact of a beingness that is pre-transitional; whether one wants to find an object for it or not, it lives without ever having been protected, secured, housed in being or language. How then does one explain this rift, this self-differentiation? Blackness remains a pain of being, like an intermittent cry, or the spectacle of a foot on the neck, head, or back, and what it showcases (darbieret) belongs to neither place nor topos, law or concept, but to the body that belongs to nothing but the pain that execrates it, that turns it aside-from-itself, and is mortified in all the instances in which pain may be multiplied beyond the psyche and its pathos.

David S. Marriott, from Of Effacement: Blackness and Non-Being

[antirelation]

In the corpus exanime, where we are riven in effigy, we are not dealing with phenomenological experience. For this experience is not one that can be experienced. There is no longer a body or flesh; there is no feeling of being flooded with sensations délicieuses, oblivious to time or thought. But this suffering that in turn suffers itself as a non-presence is an absolutely unavoidable “wreckoning,” so to speak. It is not the dialectical counterpart of sensibility, and we do not grasp it as a thought, as a category wrung out of us. The corpus exanime has no transitive verb. Nothing responds to this corpus exanime, but this judgement, you are less than; the voice of this judgement is understood and terrorizes because it comes to us from the community but not as the community, but from the whiteness of its law; it is the judgement of a gaze whose function fulfills a relation to the world picture: that is, it locates a point always exterior to the picture, but in relation to what is dead to representation, since the confirmation of something less than life makes the life of representation impossible.

David S. Marriott, from Of Effacement: Blackness and Non-Being

[antigonickpdf]

the thought i keep coming back to with the finale, and this season in general, is a sense of… infestation, i guess is the best way to describe it. because for the first two seasons, iwtv was a work that— even with all its gothic/horror themes— seemed deeply compassionate at its core, and it remained devoted to beauty and love in a way that felt like a reprieve from (even a small rebellion against) the rising fascism of the culture surrounding it. and now it feels like the hatefulness it was pushing back against has infested it somehow, like a swarm of fuckin termites, which has not only ruined this season but also calls into question the structural soundness of what came before it. like, how did we even get here? was this sort of mean-spirited derision always just lying in wait? idk. i don’t want to make a bad season of tv deeper than it is, but it does feel like witnessing another loss in the cultural battle when a careful, compassionate work that ostensibly cared about the marginalised experiences it depicted becomes just another conduit for hatred toward vulnerable groups. what a fucking bummer, man

[geyfrog]

Referring to someone as your “partner” sounds as if you are deliberately obscuring their gender and may subtly out you. “My ex”, however, is entirely unobtrusively gender-neutral. #breakupallrelationships

[clemenzschlimm]

carvers of keewatin