you go too far, marlowe.
those are harsh words to throw at a man. especially when he's walking out of your bedroom.
yesterday I watched Secretary. Today I'm watching Crash (1996).
What I have concluded is that James Spader is a big old perv.
See also: Sex, Lies, and Videotape.
Did I ever tell you about the time I staged a filmfest called Spaderama?
Because these are the movies that were in it.
also known as the double feature that’ll get everyone laid.
English photographer Alva Bernadine combines elements of surrealism, Dada and a five point philosophy which states that all his images must: astound, confound, provoke, intimidate and Gorgonise (hypnotize). (F/lthyGorgeousTh/ngs)
o curses.
(via theblindeyecreates)
The lady on the right! She is so special, and she’s leaving me just four months after I met her. Lamez0rs, Allison. Lamez0rs.
O HAL DON’T LEAVE!
you know how everyone has a Person? Hal is my Person. MY HEART IT IS BROKEN
(via berserker)
i agree.
(via lovealesia)love it
o god what have i done
“This essay, therefore, will not attempt to define the écriture feminine, but propose that Cixous postulates a deconstructive study of margins, placing feminine writing practices not in an existing locus of patriarchal representation, but a rhetorical sphere of non-locatability that rejects the text as an epistemological object. More specifically, it will explore the practice of female writing as contingent upon fluidity, an opening up of the self to language that allows inside/ outside binaries to be transgressed. A theoretical masochism, ultimately, that exploits phallocentrism of language in its desire to know the Other, allowing for ‘bisexuality… each one’s location in self’ (2047) - the articulation of a non-categorical subjectivity.”
- Preparations for a Tuesday deadline (20 pages)
Pure I, identical to I-self does not exist. I is always in difference. I is the open set of the traces of an I by definition changing, mobile because living-speaking-thinking-dreaming. This truth should moreover make us prudent and modest in our judgements and our definitions. The difference is in us, in me, difference plays me (my play). And it is numerous: since it plays with me in me between me and me or I and myself. A ‘myself’ which is the most intimate first name of You. I will never say often enough that the difference is not one, that there is never one without the other, and that the charm of difference (beginning with sexual difference) is that it passes. It crosses through us, like a goddess. We cannot capture it. It makes us teeter with emotion. It is in this living agitation that there is always room for you in me, your presence and your place. I is never and individual. I is haunted. I is always, before knowing anything, an I-love-you.
- Derrida on Cixous.
"And the night illuminated the night"
More often I am in the very darkness of my desire; I know not what it wants, good itself is an evil to me, everything resounds, I live between blows, my head ringing: estoy en tinieblas. But sometimes, too, it is another Night: alone in a posture of meditation (perhaps a role I assign myself?), I think quite calmly about the other, as the other is; I suspend any interpretation; I enter into the night of non-meaning; desire continues to vibrate (the darkness is transluminous), but there is nothing I want to grasp; this is the Night of non-profit, of sublte, invisible expenditure: estoy a oscuras: I am here, sitting simply and calmly in the dark interior of love.
- Roland Barthes, A Lover’s Discourse: Fragments.
