martes, julio 07, 2009
miércoles, julio 01, 2009
viernes, junio 19, 2009
To edit oneself would be to retrace one’s steps, go backwards, when the idea is to always move forward. To judge yesterday’s writing session, to censor a lapse into the absurd or the irrational, to revive a character your work-in-progress sent tumbling over a cliff—all of these actions go against Aira’s procedure. Instead, the system prioritizes an ethic of creative self-affirmation and, I would say, optimism. To labor to justify previous work with more strange creations that in turn establish the need for ever more artistic high-wire acts in the future—this is the continuum, the high-wire act the artist must perform when he refuses to submit to any rule that is not his autonomously chosen procedure. It is an act performed with deep abysses yawning to each side of him—conformity, market pressures, conventionality, self-repression of all kinds . . .
posteado por
j. pluecker
at
1:35 PM
0
commentarios
sábado, mayo 23, 2009
For most of his adult life, he has earned his living by translating the book of other writers. He sits at his desk reading the book in French and then picks up his pen and writes the same book in English. It is both the same book and not the same book, and the strangeness of this activity has never failed to impress him. Every book is an image of solitude. It is a tangible object that one can pick up, put down, open, and close, and its words represent many months, if not many years, of one's man solitude, so that with each word one reads in a book one might say to himself that he is confronting a particle of solitude. A man's solitude, so that he is confronting a particle of that solitude. A man sits alone in a room and writes. Whether the book speaks of loneliness or companionship, it is necessarily a product of solitude. A. sits down on his own room to translate another man's book, and it is as though he were entering that man's solitude and making it his own. But surely that is impossible. For once a solitude has been breached, once a solitude has been taken on by another it is no longer a solitude, but a kind of companionship. Even though there is only one man in the room, there are two. A. images himself as a kind of ghost of that other man, who is both there and not there, and whose book is both the same and not the same as the one he is translating. Therefore, he tells himself, it is possible to be alone and not alone at the same moment.
posteado por
j. pluecker
at
9:25 PM
2
commentarios
jueves, mayo 07, 2009
posteado por
j. pluecker
at
5:17 PM
1 commentarios
domingo, mayo 03, 2009
This world is gone to hell.
posteado por
j. pluecker
at
4:30 PM
0
commentarios
jueves, abril 23, 2009
Stealing Immigrant Babies
Check this one out: so now judges are taking custody of the children of undocumented immigrants and handing them over to American families when the immigrants are arrested/deported. See here.
What one judge in Missouri, David Dally, wrote in his decision is so telling:
“Her lifestyle, that of smuggling herself into the country illegally and committing crimes in this country, is not a lifestyle that can provide stability for a child. A child cannot be educated in this way, always in hiding or on the run.”
The crime the judge is referring to is using a false Social Security card to get work. So now, coming to this country to get a better life, getting a job and working to provide for your U.S. citizen kids is a crime that makes her unworthy of keeping her own child. This is so so so so sickening. The judge's logic is gross and awful. The woman in this case is only trying to provide for the future of her children and the legal system in this country judges her as an unfit mother for her decision.
posteado por
j. pluecker
at
4:59 PM
0
commentarios
