Sunday, March 29, 2009

YES, I AM A CHOMSKYITE


Surprise! But seriously, if you've never read this guy before (I've been reading him for years) you have to check him out. I've posted a new link in my links list (to the left, here).

I don't think I've learned about politics from anyone more than I have from Chomsky (although Rosa Luxemburg and Karl Marx certainly come to mind).

Saturday, March 28, 2009

GHOST IN THE SHELL: INNOCENCE quotes the Buddha


"let a man walk alone, let him commit no sin, with few wishes, like an elephant in the forest."

Sunday, March 22, 2009

JORGE LUIS BORGES


said this:

"A writer, or any man, must believe that whatever happens to him is an instrument; everything has been given for an end. This is even stronger in the case of the artist. Everything that happens, including humiliations, embarrassments, misfortunes, all has been given like clay, like material for one's art. One must accept it. For this reason I speak in a poem of the ancient food of heroes: humiliation, unhappiness, discord. Those things are given to us to transform, so that we may make from the miserable circumstances of our lives things that are eternal, or aspire to be so."

Borges "Blindness" Selected Non-Fictions

I love this quotation, because one of my great fears in life is meaningless suffering, pointless pain. I am always afraid of making some easily avoided mistake in my life that will ruin it in some way. There is comfort and truth, I believe, in Borges' words.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

"HELLO? IS THERE ANYBODY OUT THERE? HELLO?"


Believe it or not, I find the following scenario extremely erotic. Call me weird . . . and please post if you're just as weird yourself!

"Did you say something, fair Lady knight?"

"Huh? Who's out there?"

"Only a poor peasant maid, milady."

"Get me out of this thing!"

"Beg pardon, milady, I did not hear . . ."

"I said, get me the fuck out of here!"

"You mean . . ."

"My squire buggered off somewhere and I've been trying to get
out of this bloody suit of armour for the past hour!"

"Certainly, milady. But how do I . . ."

"How the hell should I know? My squire does that and she's off fucking the stable girl or something. Just get a wrench or a screwdriver or something and get me out of here!"

"Oh my, Milady. Pardon me for saying so, but you are rather a stupid woman, aren't you?"

"What? How dare you?"

"I have a wrench, alright, my fine fulsome aristocrat. And I think I spy a fair fat bolt between your steelclad thighs. I think I'll start there, or I'll start nowhere at all."

"Huh?"

"Spread 'em, sister!"