It’s complicated. It’s not a bad thing that we wish to do good in the world. But it’s hard work to determine what is good. — @TejuCole
- Jacques Rivette, from “Texts and Interviews” (edited by Jonathan Rosenbaum)
The best Ashberry poems, I thought, although not in these words, describe what it’s like to read an Ashberry 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 Ashberry 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, Ashberry’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. — Ben Lerner, Leaving the Atocha Station. (via emissions)
[video]
What is nearness if it fails to come about despite the reduction of the longest distances to the shortest intervals? What is nearness if it is even repelled by the restless abolition of distances? What is nearness if, along with its failure to appear, remoteness also remains absent?
What is happening here when, as a result of the abolition of great distances, everything is equally far and equally near? What is this uniformity in which everything is neither far nor near-is, as it were, without distance?
Everything gets lumped together into uniform distancelessness. How? Is not this merging of everything into the distanceless more unearthly than everything bursting apart?
- Heidegger, 2001, 163-164p, Poetry, Language, Thought. Albert Hofstadter, trans.
(via emissions)
A film by the Straubs is always a way of placing bodies that recite texts in a space; bodies, texts and spaces being almost inseparable. — JACQUES RANCIÈRE (via)
Elusive Lucidity: Sympton and Theme
untitled by chris koperski on Flickr.
Nothing exists.
If anything exists, it is incomprehensible.
If anything was comprehensible,
it would be incommunicable.
— Gorgias (via emissions)
Cézanne, “Le Lac d’Annecy.” 1896 [via]
A film about imperialism, told from the inside, would on the surface appear to be a film about nothing at all. — (@dmcdougall)
Paul Cézanne
Baigneuses
1904–1906
31,5 x 40 cm
Deluted oil painting on canvas
(via emissions)
I’d rather people feel a film before understanding it. — Robert Bresson
(Source: mariesamuels)
This idea of ‘if you give a man a fish, them you feed him for a day; but teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime…’ that kind of cockle-warming idea is one that on the one hand sounds perfectly reasonable. ‘Who wouldn’t want to teach a man to fish?’ But it’s important to think about how that constructs the recipients of aid. I mean, think about it for a second, the image that underwrites that metaphor is of people eating fish by the side of the river bank in some third world country, and they’ll look over to the river and:
‘What’s that?’
‘It looks like a fish.’
‘And how are we gonna get it out?’
‘I have no idea… We’ll have to wait for the nice white man from the World Bank to come and tell us.’
—
- Raj Patel, “The Value of Nothing”
12/1/09