ffsimplu

var sc_project=7037287; var sc_invisible=1; var sc_security="f0e396bc";

[ffsimplu]

Kuzuyoshi Usui

There are the deontic modes or modes of obligation. These are concepts such as the obligatory (that which we ought to do), the permitted (that which we are allowed to do), and the forbidden (that which we must not do).

G. H. von Wright // Deontic Logic // 1951

[ffsimplu]

Tom Munckton - Personal Portfolio 14.09.09

We had a human/computer interface a hundred years before we had computers. When computers came into being around the time of the Second World War, humans, quite naturally, communicated with them by simply grafting them on to the already-existing technologies for translating letters into bits and vice versa: teletypes and punch card machines.

 Neal Stephenson // In the Beginning was the Command Line // 1999

[ffsimplu]

Jacques Tati

Dans un omnibus un jour vers midi il m'arriva d'assister à la petite tragi- comédie suivante. Un godelureau affligé d'un long cou et chose étrange d'un petit cordage autour du melon (mode qui fait florès mais que je réprouve), prétextant soudain de la presse qui était grande, interpella son voisin avec une arrogance qui dissimulait mal un caractère probablement veule et l'accusa de piétiner avec une méthode systématique ses escarpins vernis chaque fois qu'il montait ou descendait des dames ou des messieurs se rendant à la porte de Champerret. Mais le gommeux n'attendit point une réponse qui l'eüt sans doute amené sur le terrain et grimpa vivement sur l'impériale où l'attendait une place libre, car un des occupants de notre véhicule venait de poser son pied sur la molle asphalte du trottoir de la place Pereire. Deux heures plus tard comme je me trouvais alors moi-même sur cette impériale j'aperçus le blanc-bec dont je viens de vous entretenir qui semblait goüter fort la conversation d'un jeune gandin qui lui donnait des conseils copurchic sur la façon de porter le pet-en-l'air dans la haute.

Raymond Queneau // Exercices de style // 1947

[ffsimplu]

Luna Park Paris // 1910

L'impatience d'un amant Comme un ministre sûr de sa majorité Un nuage de poussière entre dans la baraque En vacillant et commande un litre de blanc Qu'allait-il faire Alice n'était pas venue Il ne se passait rien il n'y avait personne

Bouts de macaroni sur la table d'un goinfre Que faites-vous ainsi rangés et immobiles Avez-vous des parents des amis des maîtresses

Balzac // Physiologie du mariage + Queneau // le Chiendent + Simeon // les Fiançailles de M. Hire Oulipo // La littérature potentielle

[ffsimplu]

Ray Metzker

The first objection to dialetheism is that it is impossible to believe a contradiction. If this is right, then dialetheism is, literally, incredible.

The simply reply to this objection is that it is just plain wrong. Many, in fact most, of us believe contradictions. The person who has consistent beliefs is rare. If someone has never found that their beliefs were inconsistent, this probably means that they just have not thought about them long enough. It may be suggested that when one discovers that one’s beliefs are inconsistent  one changes them. Maybe so, but this is irrelevant.

More to the point, it might be suggested that dialetheism requires us tot have not just inconsistent beliefs, but consciously inconsistent beliefs, and that this is impossible: one cannot believe two inconsistent sentences in the same ‘mental’ breath. Again, this is just plain false. The moment one realises one’s beliefs are inconsistent, one does not ipso facto cease to believe the inconsistent things. Rather, there arises a problem, and often a very difficult one, of how to revise one’s beliefs to produce consistency. This, of course, takes time.

Graham Priest // Contradiction, Belief and Rationality // 1986

[ffsimplu]

Duane Michals, The Young Girl's Dream, 1969.

Somos de una blandura insoportable, Manú. Consentimos a cada instante que la realidad se nos huya entre los dedos como una agüita cualquiera. La teníamos ahí, casi perfecta, como un arcoiris saltando de pulgar al meñique. Y el trabajo para conseguirla, el tiempo que se necesita, los méritos que hay que hacer... Zás, la radio anuncia que el general Pisotelli hizo declaraciones. Kaputt. Todo kaputt. "Por fin algo en serio", piensa la chica de los mandados, o ésta, o a lo mejor vos mismo. Y yo, porque no te vayas a imaginar que me creo infalible. ¿Qué sé yo dónde está la verdad? Solamente que me gustaba tanto ese arcoiris como un sapito entre los dedos. Y esta tarde... Mirá, a pesar del frío a mí me parece que estábamos empezando a hacer algo en serio. Talita, por ejemplo, cumpliendo esa proeza extraordinaria de no caerse a la calle, y vos ahí, y yo... Uno es sensible a ciertas cosas, qué demonios.

Julio Cortazar// Rayuela// 1963

[ffsimplu]

Young girl with a tripod and camera Photo postcard, c. 1910 (via Gallery 4)

Fotografia (cea pe care o doresc) reprezintă acel moment foarte subtil în care, la drept vorbind, nu sunt nici subiect, nici obiect, ci mai degrabă un subiect care se simte devenind obiect: trăiesc atunci o mică experiență a morții (a parantezei): devin cu adevărat spectru.

Roland Barthes// Camera Lucida // 1980

[ffsimplu]

Sholes and Glidden typewriter

Now I come to an important matter — as I regard it. In the year ‘74 the young woman copied a considerable part of a book of mine on the machine. In a previous chapter of this Autobiography I have claimed that I was the first person in the world that ever had a telephone in the house for practical purposes; I will now claim — until dispossess — that I was the first person in the world to apply the type-machine to literature. That book must have been The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. I wrote the first half of it in ‘72, the rest of it in ‘74. My machinist type-copied a book for me in ‘74, so I concluded it was that one. That early machine was full of caprices, full of defects — devilish ones. It had as many immoralities as the machine of today has virtues. After a year or two I found that it was degrading my character, so I thought I would give it to Howells. He was reluctant, for he was suspicious of novelties and unfriendly toward them, and he remains so to this day. But I persuaded him. He had great confidence in me, and I got him to believe things about the machine that I did not believe myself. He took it home to Boston, and my morals began to improve, but his have never recovered.

Mark Twain // Autobiography // [1904]

[ffsimplu]

Shoji Ueda // Me and My Cat // c.1948

The funniest thing that ever happened in the printing shop of Jacques Vincent, according to a worker who witnessed it, was a riotous massacre of cats. 

Robert Darnton // The Great Cat Massacre of the Rue Saint-Severin

[ffsimplu]

Manuscript of the 'Aja'ib al-makhluqat (Wonders of Creation) of Qazwini, folio 265 verso

Abel y Caín se encontraron después de la muerte de Abel. Caminaban por el desierto y se reconocieron desde lejos, porque los dos eran muy altos. Los hermanos se sentaron en la tierra, hicieron un fuego y comieron. Guardaban silencio, a la manera de la gente cansada cuando declina el día. En el cielo asomaba alguna estrella, que aún no había recibido su nombre. A la luz de las llamas, Caín advirtió en la frente de Abel la marca de la piedra, dejó caer el pan que estaba por llevarse a la boca y pidió que le fuera perdonado su crimen. Abel contestó: 

-¿Tú me has matado o yo te he matado? Ya no recuerdo; aquí estamos juntos como antes.

-Ahora sé que en verdad me has perdonado -dijo Caín-, porque olvidar es perdonar. Yo trataré también de olvidar. 

Abel dijo despacio: 

-Así es. Mientras dura el remordimiento dura la culpa. 

Borges // 1969 // Elogio de la sombra

[ffsimplu]

Pierre Dubreuil, Filles déguisées en page, Engraving, 1944

Il y aura donc des maisons destinées au libertinage des femmes et, comme celles des hommes, sous la protection du gouvernement ; là, leur seront fournis tous les individus de l'un et l'autre sexe qu'elles pourront désirer, et plus elles fréquenteront ces maisons, plus elles seront estimées, Il n'y a rien de si barbare et de si ridicule que d'avoir attaché l'honneur et la vertu des femmes à la résistance qu'elles mettent à des désirs qu'elles ont reçus de la nature et qu'échauffent sans cesse ceux qui ont la barbarie de les blâmer. [...] Sexe charmant, vous serez libre ; vous jouirez comme les hommes de tous les plaisirs dont la nature vous fait un devoir.

Marquis de Sade // Français, encore un effort si vous voulez être républicains // 1795

[ffsimplu]

Выставка. плакат-перестройке (rpcps06001) - Marketing the Communist Utopia: Soviet Propaganda Posters

Era un tip destul de trecut, gras, chel şi trist, tată a trei copii. I se spunea Edik. Ca să-şi plătească chiria, scria sub trei patru poseudonime în diferite reviste, pe orice temă. Pseudonimul Blo îl inventase împreună cu Tatarski, împrumutându-l de pe ambalajul de un albastru strălucitor al unui produs de spălat geamuri găsit sub cada din baie (căutau vodka ascunsă de nevasta lui Edik.) (...) Ei nu duceau viaţa printre prize de cocaină, orgii şi dispute despre Burroughs şi Warhol, cum s-ar fi putut conchide în urma textelor pe care le scriau, ci printre scutece şi teribili gândaci moscoviţi. Ei nu aveau nici urmă de aroganţă snoabă, de lascivitate insinuantă, de dandism rece, nici înclinaţii diabolice ori măcar tendinţa firească de a arunca o replică acidă în ciuda folosirii zilnice a cuvântului ”acid”. Problema lor era alimentaţia, banii sau locuinţa, iar ca înfăţiaşare semănau nu cu Gary Oldman, cum ai fi vrut să crezi după ce făceai cunoştinţă cu opera lor, ci mai degrabă cu Danny DeVito. Viktor Pelevin // Generation P // Curtea Veche, Bucureşti 2011

[ffsimplu]

'The Barnum and Bailey Greatest Show on Earth, the World's Grandest, Largest, Best Amusement Institution', c.1895 (colour litho) A Revolutionary Age is an age of action; the present age is an age of advertisement, or an age of publicity: nothing happens, but there is instant publicity about it. A revolt in the present age is the most unthinkable act of all; such a display of strength would confuse the calculating cleverness of the times.

Søren Kierkegaard // The Present Age // 1846

[ffsimplu]

Gombrowicz as a young boy standing on a horse in Malosyce in 1909

To me, art almost always speaks more forcefully when it appears in an imperfect, accidental, and fragmentary way, somehow just signaling its presence, allowing one to feel it through the ineptitude of the interpretation. I prefer the Chopin that reaches me in the street from an open window to the Chopin served in great style from the concert stage. The German pianist galloped along accompanied by the orchestra. Rocked to sleep by the tones, my mind wandered in some sort of daydream—reminiscences, things that I had to get done the next day, Bumfili, the fox terrier. In the meantime, the concert continued, the pianist galloped on. Was he a pianist or a horse? I could swear this had nothing to do with Mozart but rather with whether or not this nimble steed would wrestle the bit away from Horowitz or Rubenstein. […] A pianist, a horse, or a boxer? It also seemed to me that he was a boxer who had mounted Mozart, who was riding Mozart, pounding and hitting him, jangling and jabbing him with his spurs. What’s that? He’s reached the finish line? Applause, applause, applause! The jockey got off and bowed, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief.

Gombrowicz, Diary, 1953

[ffsimplu]

Téléphone sans fils, récepteur 3 tuyaux : [photographie de presse] / Agence Meurisse

About four o'clock that same day a very tall man was crossing the bridge that joins the separate islands. The bells, or perhaps it was the trees, struck the hour. He thought he heard the voices of his friends speaking: “The office of lazy trips is to the right,” they called to him, “and on Saturday the painter will write to you. ” The neighbors of solitude leaned forward and through the night was heard the whistling of streetlamps. The capricious house loses blood. Everybody loves a fire; when the color of the sky changes it's somebody dying. What can we hope for that would be better? Another man standing in front of a perfume shop was listening to the rolling of a distant drum. The night that was gliding over his head came to rest on his shoulders. Ordinary fans were for sale; they bore no more fruit. People were running without knowing why in the direction of the estuaries of the sea. Clocks, in despair, were fingering their rosaries. The cliques of the virtuous were being formed. No one went near the great avenues that are the strength of the city. A single storm was enough. From a distance or close at hand, the damp beauty of prisons was not recognized. The best refuges are stations because the travelers never know which way to go. You could read in the lines of the palm that the most fragrant vows of fidelity have no future. What can we do with muscle-bound children? The warm blood of bees is preserved in bottles of mineral water. We have never seen sincerities exposed. Famous men lose their lives in the carelessness of those beautiful houses that make the heart flutter. How small they seem, these rescued tides! Earthly happinesses run in floods. Each object is Paradise.

André Breton & Philippe Soupault// The Magnetic Fields// 1920

[midnightmartinis]

[ffsimplu]

hotel room, edinburgh, 1965 by wolf suschitzky

Le vide entourne les corps des hommes atomes. Le désir d'être indépendant (autarkeia) correspond au souhait d'être moins malhereux. L'individu mènera une vie plus atomique à l'écart des villes. La haine de la ville et l'éloignement qu'elle enjoint sont les premiers pas de la sagesse.

Pascal Quignard, Le sexe et l'effroi

I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel, you were talking so brave and so sweet, giving me head on the unmade bed, while the limousines wait in the street. Those were the reasons and that was New York, we were running for the money and the flesh. And that was called love for the workers in song probably still is for those of them left. Leonard Cohen, Chelsea Hotel #2

[ffsimplu]

Michele Bressan, Passato prossimo Erau luni care treceau prea repede. Erau luni care se pierdeau ca nişte capace de pixuri. José Luís Peixoto, Cimitirul de piane*