"The triumph of advertising in the culture industry is that consumers feel compelled to buy and use its products even though they see through them."

Theodor Adorno and Max Horkheimer, Dialectic of Enlightenment

(Source: bustakay, via cyborges)

E.M. Cioran on Samuel Beckett (from Cahiers: 1957-72)


September 1968.

The other day I noticed Beckett along one of the footpaths in the Luxembourg Gardens, reading a newspaper in a way that reminded me of one of his characters. He was seated in a chair, lost in thought, as he usually is. He looked rather unwell. I didn’t dare approach him. What would I say? I like him so much but it’s better that we not speak. He is so discreet! Conversation is a form of play-acting that requires a certain lack of restraint. It’s a game which Beckett wasn’t made for. Everything about him bespeaks a silent monologue.

21 April 1969.

Beckett wrote to me about my book Démiurge, “In your ruins I find shelter.”

23 Oktober 1969.

Samuel Beckett. The Nobel Prize. What a humiliation for such a proud man. The sadness of being understood! Beckett or the anti-Zarathustra.The post-humanity vision (as we say “post-Christianity”) Beckett or the apotheosis of the subhuman.

12 December 1969.

Last night I went to see Yeat’s The Shadowy Waters. The theather was empty. Today’s youth cannot appreciate a play that is so fundamentally, so totally poetic. And I understand why. There has to be at least a certain degree of cynicism to counteract poetic excess; otherwise, one runs the risk of falling into the insipid, the childish, the sublime, or the anemic. Every time that Beckett risks falling into lyricism or metaphysics, he has his characters erupt in hiccups or other fits; this abrupt shift, which allows the character to get a grip on himself, could not be more fortunate or more comtemporary. Yeats is a great poet, but his theater is only very good Maeterlinck.

20 February 1970.

Spent an evening with the Becketts. Sam was well and even high-spirited. He told me that he started writing plays by change, because he needed to relax after writing his novels. He didn’t think that what he thought of as a distraction or an experiment would acquire such importance. He added, to be sure, that playwriting involves numerous challenges, because you must restrain yourself, which had appealed to him after the great liberty, the arbitrary and limitless freedom of the novel. The theater imposes conventions, while the novel no longer requires obedience to any.

18 May 1970.

At a rehearsel of La dernière bande, when I said to Mme. B that Sam was truly despairing and that I was surprised that he was able to continue, to “live,” etc.., she replied, “There’s another side to him.”This answher applies, on a lesser scale to be sure, to myself as well.

13 June 1970.

Evening with Suzanne B. If I understood correctly, Sam was displeased with the article that I had written on him. It wasn’t, in fact, a very good one. But this didn’t stop me from feeling chagrined, as though I had been rejected. I returned home tired and in despair. I spoke on the phone with Paul Valet about my article on Beckett. We agreed that Nietzsche’s superman was ridiculous (because theatrical), while Beckett’s characters never are.Beckett’s characters do not live in the tragic but in the incurable. It’s not tragedy, but misery.

21 August 1970.

Last night, Suzanne B. told me that Sam wasted a ridiculous amount of time with second-rate people, whom he helped with their problems. When I asked where this peculiar solicitude could have come from, she told me that it was from his mother, who loved to comfort the sick and to care for hopeless wretches, but who turned away from them when they recovered or were out of trouble.

20 November 1970.

Splendid, divine morning in the Luxembourg Gardens. Watching people as they came and went, I said to myself that we the living (the living!) walk this earth only for a brief time. Instead of looking at the faces of passers-by, I looked at their feet, and they all became for me only their footsteps, which went in every direction, making a disorderly dance not worth lingering on. While thinking of this, I looked up and saw Beckett, this exquisite man whose mere presence has something so salutary about it. The operation on his cataract, performed on just one eye for now, was a great success. He’s beginning to see in the distance, which he hadn’t been able to do until now. “I”ll end up by becoming an extrovert,” he told me. “It will be up to your future commentators to explain why,” I replied.

(via cyborges)

film recommendation?


I’ve said this before and I’ll point it out again -

Menstruation is caused by change in hormonal levels to stop the creation of a uterine lining and encourage the body to flush the lining out. The body does this by lowering estrogen levels and raising testosterone.

Or, to put it more plainly “That time of the month” is when female hormones most closely resemble male hormones. So if (cis) women aren’t suited to office at “That time of the month” then (cis) men are NEVER suited to office.

If you are a dude and don’t dig the ladies around you at their time of the month, just think! That is you all of the time.

And, on a final note, post-menopausal (cis) women are the most hormonally stable of all human demographics. They have fewer hormonal fluctuations of anyone, meaning older women like Hilary Clinton and Elizabeth Warren would theoretically be among the least likely candidates to make an irrational decision due to hormonal fluctuations, and if we were basing our leadership decisions on hormone levels, then only women over fifty should ever be allowed to hold office.



(Source: ask-pauli-amorous, via egryt)