the engine of his ruin

Ｔｈｅｓｅ  ｔｗｏ  ｄｉｆｆｅｒｅｎｔ  ｒｅｓｐｏｎｓｅｓ，  ｔｈｅ  ｉｄｅａｌｉｓｔｉｃ  ａｎｄ  ｔｈｅ  ｓｃｉｅｎｔｉｆｉｃ， ｄｏ  ｎｏｔ  ｍｅｒｅｌｙ  ｅｘｉｓｔ  ｓｉｍｕｌｔａｎｅｏｕｓｌｙ：  ｔｈｅｒｅ  ｉｓ  ａ  ｄｉａｌｏｇｕｅ  ｂｅｔｗｅｅｎ ｔｈｅ  ｔｗｏ．  Ｔｈｅ  ｉｍａｇｉｎａｔｉｖｅ  ｃｏｎｓｔｒｕｃｔｉｏｎ  ｐｒｅｃｅｄｅｓ  ｔｈｅ  ｔｅｃｈｎｏｌｏｇｉｃａｌ， ｔｈｏｕｇｈ  ｏｆｔｅｎ  ｉｔ  ｄｏｅｓ  ｎｏｔ  ｄｅｖｅｌｏｐ  ｕｎｔｉｌ  ｔｈｅ  ｔｅｃｈｎｏｌｏｇｉｃａｌ  ｋｎｏｗｈｏｗ  ｉｓ ＇ｉｎ  ｔｈｅ  ａｉｒ＇．

If the product of labor does not belong to the worker, if it confronts him as an alien power, ｔｈｅｎ  ｔｈｉｓ  ｃａｎ  ｏｎｌｙ  ｂｅ  ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ  ｉｔ  ｂｅｌｏｎｇｓ  ｔｏ  ｓｏｍｅ  ｏｔｈｅｒ  ｍａｎ  ｔｈａｎ  ｔｈｅ  ｗｏｒｋｅｒ．  Ｉｆ  ｔｈｅ  ｗｏｒｋｅｒ’ｓ  ａｃｔｉｖｉｔｙ  ｉｓ  ａ  ｔｏｒｍｅｎｔ  ｔｏ  ｈｉｍ，  ｔｏ  ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ  ｉｔ  ｍｕｓｔ  ｇｉｖｅ  ｓａｔｉｓｆａｃｔｉｏｎ  ａｎｄ  ｐｌｅａｓｕｒｅ．  N̶͕͔̺̤̻̖̉̎̋ͧ̓̿̐ͥ͒́ơ͈̳̐̚ṫ̽ͭ̈͝͏̫̝̤̝̼ͅ ̈́́̽̍̍̋̚҉̲̱̗̠̯̤͉̫͘ţ̢͔̜ͬ͊̐͠h̴͖̦̩̼̻͆̃͆̅̏̀è͎̙̾̓̓̆̌̃͒̂ ̡̧̗̞̙͓̤̜͕̃͌̂̑̉̃͢ǧ̷̘͈̈́̅̉̀ͩͭ͟ͅͅo̟̼̹͂ͦd̴͕̗̦̱̥ͯ̈ͩͨͩͥ̍ͅs͙͔͚̼̰ͣ̏̒̀͟͜,̥̰͈̪̻́̍̋͗̍̏́ͩ̓ ̬ͭͭͥͪ̒̊̉͆͑͠n̵̍̇ͭ͏̟̞̭̪̞͞ȍ͆̀̏̒̌̚͏̫͈t̟̻͔̜̂̇̆͆ ̢̠̩̯̎̇̌̿ͭ͟ͅn̴̛̯̘̻̦̲͚̜͚̍̏ͬ̌ā̳͉̥̫̩̼̪͔͒͑͆͑͌ͪt̷̯͚͗ͭ͐̌̏̓́ͪ͢͝u̓̍̔͛ͦ͐͋ͤ͘҉̡̩͙̣̝͕̙r̥̪̩̥̗ͪ̐͊͊ͭ̉ͭ̏ë̗ͮͯ̓͑̿͐ͭ͌,̧̜̹͉̪͎̻̤̾̎͑ͥ͐ͩ̀ ̡̝̪̂̌ͬͤ̚b͇̻͕̲̙̬̰̅̄ͧͪ͋͞u͇̥͇̦̲̜̍̍͢ţ̵̡͖̼̪̣͚̒ͥ̽ͥ ̗̻͎͂ͮͧͭ͑ͣͪ́͝oͪ̓̾̄̔͠҉̼͕͈̰̝̞͎ͅn͔̪̤͌̈́͗ͤḽ̯̻̞ͤ͐ẏ̨̜̥̍̽̎͆͟ ̸̡̞̪̻͙̬̖͚ͭͭ̈ͤ͡m̶͚̥̘̘̠͙̒̾̊͊̾̈́̀̕ͅā̺̣̟̖͛ͨn̬̙͗͑̈́̓̐̾ ͎̬͇̘̠̯̻̠̊́ͮͅh̡̜͇̝̤̜̮̋̏̓̇͑̄̆̈́i͍̠̙͉̅̈́ͤ̚m͔͚̩̼͎̩̌ͭ̕s̛ͣ̓̓̉̾҉̗͔̪̻̙̺̲̘͈e̵͙͔͑̽ͨ̏̚͜l̨͓̍̾̑̆ͦͯͭ͘͞f̨̗͔͖̳̳̙͙͔̳̾ͮ̉̐ͭ̐͡ ̷͎̤̤͓̬̫̹̝̾͋͛͒̿͑̆ͨͧ͠͠c̝̞ͬ͗̏̀a̔͛̽ͩͨ̓̓̅͏̝̠͎̙͉̗̝n̢̳͍̅ͪ ͍̌̚b̰̒̈́ͥ́͛̃̌̚e̡͚̺͇ͮ ̳̤̳̺̪̦͚͖͆ͣ̂̾̇͘͘ͅt̼̭̗͖̻̙̻̏̑ͨ̾͘ḫ̴̙̤̺̙̗̣̽i̥ͬ̋́̊ͣ͠s̡͓̤̫̲̯̼͒͑ͭ̀̈́̃͛̈͠ ͕̥̈́̔a̜̺̻̜̹͕̱̮͂͒͂̓̊̏͐͆̀͜͝l̢̢̺͕͍̗̘̃̄̄͂̃i̙̠̼̖̪̙ͫ̾ͩ̅̈e̴̩͈̓ͮ͠n̵̪͎̣̞̭̗̤̥̅̎͡ ̵͎̥͙̼̮̭̓̐͘͘p͎̩̲̭̞̊̎ͮ̊̈ͣ́o̸̫̳̟͎͖̭͔͚̽̅̓w̜̺̖̦̞̓̏̓̽̿̾͆͐͟e̡͚̮̗̫̦̘̮̗͐ͨ́͡r̢͈̟̤̜̼͔̹̩̆ͥ͒̂͊͡ ͛̓ͧ͛̉̊̚҉̶̷͍̤̪͖̯oͥͥͩ̄̑̋͐̕͏̺͉͖̯͕v̛̻͚̙̩̂͐ͦ̂ͩͥ̕ë̜̱͇́̾ͪͤ̓͐̄̀r̵̺͍̭̗̲̲̥͆̏̓̈̾ͨ̚ ̶̪̳͉̠̣̩̲ͭ͗̊ͫm̵̨͔͇̠̖̎ͅͅą̶̣͇̞̱̽́ͮ͛̐̔̐̂̚ň͙̭̓͒͆̋̑ͧ͒́͢.̛̞̞̹̉̓́ͣ̃ͩ̒͜͢

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ａｅｓｔｈｅｔｉｃｓ

To be fair, I’d be just as shocked to see a compact disc pop out of a computer these days… “猫背矯正マシン #cat #ねこ #ねこ部 #neko #マンチカン #munchkin #iMac #midi #surprise #animals”

so regal.

Thomas Gainsborough (1727-1788), Six studies of a cat, 1765-70

Gwen John (1876–1939), Black Cat on Blue and Pink, 1910-20

Gwen John (1876–1939), Self portrait, 1900

Gwen John, Cat, 1904-08 “Gwen John adored her cats, and depicted them frequently. This one, a tortoiseshell named Edgar Quinet, appears in most of her cat drawings, sometimes with her kittens. The name was taken from the address where John lived in 1904 when she first had the cat, 19 boulevard Edgar Quinet in Paris. When Edgar Quinet ran away in 1908, John was devastated. In a letter to a friend, Ursula Tyrwhitt, she wrote, ‘when the cats make love I run to see if my sweet is one of them’. She composed a poem to her loss, 'Au Chat’, which she sent to Rodin.”

Preliminary drawings/studies: Marion Collier, Thomas Henry Huxley Oil painting: John Collier,  Thomas Henry Huxley, 1883

Theophile Steinlen (1859-1923), Cats on the Sofa, 1908