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⬅️ Previous capture (2024-05-10)
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taking public transportation is extremely virtuous. forget climate change and all that, it is virtuous because it develops in you a non-individualist mindset. when you drive, you are in opposition to your fellow man. on the train, you are all in unity. in new york, the subway is also a democratic institution. everyone uses it: rich, poor, old, young, etc.
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I write to remind us always that we aren’t actually the PEOPLE, we aren’t the NATION, we aren’t even a COMMUNITY, except in the things we do. How do we staunch the endless bloodletting of the State? We have to be wrong. We have to act like we aren’t already dead. We have to open the possibility of not knowing how things will turn out, because if we know, then there we are, somewhere in the queue of killed by the forces of State and Capital, whether directly or abandoned. We relate to a land that is not already claimed, and yet is always already inhabited—not the empty utopian dream of settlement. Our lives are not actually saturated by State thinking, we aren’t little flags in our interactions.
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When the authorities are perceived to have a monopoly on the legitimate use of force, “violence” is often used to denote illegitimate use of force—anything that interrupts or escapes their control. Only the resisting force is declared violent. Because the brutal repression of workers by the state is not perceived as violence, the thrown bomb at the men who made those decisions will never be seen as self-defense. Because the execution of the bomber is not perceived as violence, the response from that man’s comrades is illegitimate.
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A table of contents from A History of People Who Have Cried in Front of Paintings:
1. Crying at nothing but colors
2. Crying no one can understand
3. Crying from chromatic waves
4. Crying because you've been hit by a lightning bolt
5. Weeping over bluish leaves
6. The ivory tower of tearlessness
7. False tears over a dead bird
8. Crying because time passes
9. Weeping, watching the Madonna weep
10. Crying at God
11. Sobbing in lonely mountains
12. Crying at the empty sea of faith
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κάλλιστον μὲν ἐγὼ λείπω φάος ἠελίοιο,
δεύτερον ἄστρα φαεινὰ σεληναίης τε πρόσωπον
ἠδὲ καὶ ὡραίους σικύους καὶ μῆλα καὶ ὄγχνας
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I don't write poems. I make poets of men
the light they steal from other suns someday, i'm going to finish writing down everything I mean to say. on that day, i will be finished with language. forever and anyone who wants to communicate with me will have to have totally perfected the art of touching without causing pain.
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Do y'all remember being a kid and trying to read in the car while it was dark outside and your parents wouldn't let you turn on the light so you would try to grab snatches of sentences when you passed by street lights
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To become takes a long time. Blue spells are periods of
red where you pause, the body calculating the losses. You don't want to hear the story
of my life, and anyway
I don't want to tell it, I want to listen
to the enormous waterfalls of the sun.
And anyway it's the same old story—
a few people just trying,
one way or another,
to survive.
Mostly, I want to be kind.
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i wake up thirsty and i think of palestine. i go to the doctor's office and i think of palestine. a sign in the corner of the waiting room says 'this is a place of healing, disruptive behavior will not be tolerated' and i think of palestine. they probably weren't thinking of bombs and snipers and mass graves in parking lots. i call my parents and i think of palestine. i drive to the grocery store and i think of palestine. i look at the clear blue sky and i think of palestine. i put the dishes away and i think of palestine. i feed my cat and i think of palestine. i listen to music and i think of palestine. i read poetry and i think of palestine. i text my friends and i think of palestine. i think of palestine and i think of palestine and i think of palestine
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disco elysium grabbing me by the shoulders: "listen, everything is going to end and it's inevitable so do something beautiful while you still have the time. look at the men playing petanque in the bomb crater, look at the guy composing poetry as he imagines being with his wife and kids. there's a woman making dice in the chimney of an old commercial area. those kids are making music inside of a church. paint a wall, sing karaoke, play board games. everything is going to end but in the meantime something beautiful is going to happen. and maybe even the giant bug is real in the end."
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The hopeless part about Disco Elysium is that recovery is so far into the future as to seem unimaginable. Lilienne might consider going out with you if you had five years between you and your last drink. It might take eight more years before you get over Dora. There are no flashy bonuses for getting sober, and the health benefits will kick in some time in the future, and the future doesn't actually exist because it is beyond the scope of the game's timeline (also the world is going to end).
But the hopeful part of Disco Elysium, the part that made me fall in love with it, is that you also don't need to wait for recovery. Right now, among the shit, are miracles and beauty, fleeting but meaningful: cryptids, and helping a girl out of the cold, and "teleporting" up ladders, inventing a new dance, and painting a wall. These things matter, because you are alive right now, and you are not alone.
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One of these days we're going to get outside. We'll take off your shoes and listen to the wind chimes in the garden. The dust of vanished jet planes will be a glaze around the street lamps. The little star of Karl Marx will light a corner of the vault. We'll lie beside the shed mingling our conversation with the soft round noise of the neighbour's doves. Adam's father will be feeling better. So will Adam's mother. Our rugged life in the back yard is about to begin. We're going to dig a lily pond if we can get outside. You can see us in our chairs now, immensely attractive and paralysed. There we are reflected in the windows of the room. We'd weep over the story you could tell about us. You'd be so pleased to meet people who do not wish to govern you.
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Borders doesn't real I have more in common with the Chinese man seeding the torrent I download than my congressman