Fruit Of The Loin
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toadelevatingmoment:

But Confucius has answered them with the final whistle, it’s all over. Germany, having trounced England’s famous midfield trio of Bentham, Locke and Hobbes in the semi-final, have been beaten by the odd goal.

I forgot that this existed.

(via globalpost)

quoteSurely all art is the result of one’s having been in danger, of having gone through an experience all the way to the end, to where no one can go any further.quote - Rainer Maria Rilke as pulled from Jenny Offill’s Dept. of Speculation, page 171
quote“My fear about this panel is that we are in a hurry to define a period, to speak of literature now; every period, like every concept, is in itself an exaggeration. I hope to hear from others what changed on March 11 that permits we to speak,” my grammar faltered, but I could see the sentence’s end, ” of a new now, of a new period, without dislocation.”… Francesc Balda began by stressing the importance of my point; he shared my healthy suspicion of neat distinctions between a pre-this and a post-that; indeed, perhaps literature’s role was to help us keep our perspective, to take the long view, to allow us to link our “now” to various past “nows” in order to form an illuminating constellation.quote - Adam Gordon, Ben Lerner’s Leaving the Atocha Station, pages 174 - 175
I read this book about a month ago, and after skimming several reviews from Goodreads’s website, this comic has really been the only review of Leaving the Atocha Station that has made the most sense to me.

I read this book about a month ago, and after skimming several reviews from Goodreads’s website, this comic has really been the only review of Leaving the Atocha Station that has made the most sense to me.

(via hornreviews)

theparisreview:

…Heaven, because it can’t standFor anything on its own, like the colorOf rice or a bomb, was happy to playAlong, was happy just to be happyFor once, and not an excuse for mayhem.
—Rowan Ricardo Phillips, from “Kingdom Come.” Art: Peder Balke.

theparisreview:

…Heaven, because it can’t stand
For anything on its own, like the color
Of rice or a bomb, was happy to play
Along, was happy just to be happy
For once, and not an excuse for mayhem.

Rowan Ricardo Phillips, from “Kingdom Come.” Art: Peder Balke.

momateens:

marathoning:

American Gothic with its Models (1942) Nan Wood Graham

Always reblog. 

momateens:

marathoning:

American Gothic with its Models (1942) Nan Wood Graham

Always reblog. 

quoteEvolution designed us to cry out if we are being abandoned. To make as much noise as possible so the tribe will come back for us.quote - The Wife, Jenny Offill’s Dept. of Speculation, page 108
quoteI put down the book and began to think: this strange experience of reading, the sense of harmony between the rhythms of a reproduction and the real, their structural identity, so that the subject of the sentence was precisely the time of its being furthered—this was what I valued in one of the only people I described as a “major poet” without irony, John Ashbery. I fished his Selected Poems from my bag, careful not to disturb Isabel, and opened it at random and read a little. Here also one could experience the texture of time as it passed, a shadow train, life’s white machine. Ashbery’s flowing sentences always felt as if they were making sense, but when you looked up from the page, it was impossible to say what sense had been made; while they used the language of logical connection—”but,” “therefore,” “so”—and the language that implied narrative development—”then,” “next,” “later”—such terms were merely propulsive; there was no actual organizing logic or progression. Reading an Ashbery sentence, an elaborate sentence stretched over many lines, one felt the arc and feel of thinking in the absence of thoughts. His pronouns—”it,” “you,” “we,” “I”—created a sense of intimacy as though you were being addressed or doing the addressing or were familiar with the context the poem assumed, but you could never be sure of their antecedents, person or thing. The “it” in an Ashbery poem seemed ultimately to refer to the mysteries of the poem itself; in the absence of any stable external referent, the poem’s procedures invested its pronouns, and the “you” devolved upon the reader… The best Ashbery poems, I thought… describe what it’s like to read an Ashbery poem; his poems refer to how their reference evanesces. And when you read about your reading in the time of your reading, mediacy is experienced immediately. It is as though the actual Ashbery poem were concealed from you, written on the other side of a mirrored surface, and you saw only the reflection of your reading. But by reflecting your reading, Ashbery’s poems allow you to attend to your attention, to experience your experience, thereby enabling a strange kind of presence. But it is a presence that keeps the virtual possibilities of poetry intact because the true poem remains beyond you, inscribed on the far side of the mirror: “You have it but you don’t have it. / You miss it, it misses you. / You miss each other.”quote - Adam Gordon, Ben Lerner’s Leaving the Atocha Station, pages 90 - 91
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