Winter Notes on Summer Impressions. @in-tacto - Tumblr Blog

'Bedtime'. Nicole Parker. 2021.

We are being led to our slaughter. This has been theorized in a thousand ways, described in environmental, social, and political terms, it has been prophesied, abstracted, and narrated in real time, and still we are unsure of what to do with it. The underlying point is that the progress of society has nothing to offer us and everything to take away. Often it feels like we are giving it away without a fight: when we sell our time for money, allow our passions to be commodified, invest ourselves in the betterment of society, or sustain ourselves on the spoils of ecological destruction, we openly (though not consensually) participate in our own destruction.

Serafinski, Blessed is the Flame (2016)

blackcoffeestudies

Mutual fascination is always a risky business. Lacan suggests that it is the consequence of an imaginary identification in which the self strives to incorporate the other in an act as aggressive as it is loving. It is never clear who, snake or snake charmer, is mesmerized by whom.

Elizabeth Grosz, Jacques Lacan: A feminist introduction

papenathys

Absolutely insane lines to just drop in the middle of an academic text btw. Feeling so normal about this.

[ A Critical History of English Literature, Vol. 1, Prof. David Daiches, first published in 1960 ]

dk-thrive

cure myself

I will walk by myself and cure myself in the sunshine and the wind.

— Charles Reznikoff, from “Autobiography: New York,” Poems 1918-1975: The Complete Poems of Charles Reznikoff (Black Sparrow Press, 1977) (via The Vale of Soul Making)

stamenpistil

Fennel’s Wuthering Heights carries on that old imperial habit of touching a wonderful thing it does not understand and salivating with animal larceny impulse. This is the part that feels rancid to me: not merely that the adaptation fundamentally, egregiously misunderstands the novel, but that it misunderstands it in the precise shape of empire.

Take the outsider. Whiten the outsider. Take the violence. Aestheticize the violence. Corsets. Flower crowns. Latex. Softcore pornography in ribbons. Plunging necklines. Take the mud the dirt the miremuck of disgraced colonial history. Make it editorial. Make it swing flaccidly towards camp, yes mama boots the house down. Take the class rage. Sell it as background atmosphere, thoughtful addendum, glorious footnote of gold. Take the gaping racial wound. Disappear it. Call its absence “modern.” Then stand there, powdered and well-funded, asking why everyone is being so dramatic about the missing body.

gougeddoll

jennifer cantwell, 2011

seriial

“the recording is of a blackbird in my garden in the north of scotland. the idea of the piece is that it's a letter home from a migrated bird, telling the family of its new life and making the connection between the migrant and the homeland.” - jennifer cantwell