What Happened, Miss Simone? (2015)

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What Happened, Miss Simone? (2015)

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The language of pain, stretching back to antiquity, conflated the emotional and the physical. The overlap of grief, anguish, despair and sorrow with physical pain lies at the heart of vernacular expressions of suffering in Ancient Greek, Latin, Arabic, Urdu, Hindi and Chinese, as well as in English and other European languages. For thousands of years, the statement ‘I am in pain’ was an emotional as well as a physical claim. While this semantic overlap seems consistent, the precise conceptualisation has varied enormously, from ὀδύvη (odúnē, Ancient Greek) to dolor (Latin), to wajaʿ (Arabic), to dard (Farsi, Hindi and Urdu), to tòng (Chinese). Moreover, there is a rich history of the iconography of the ineffable: representations of pain that, while it could not be uttered, was nonetheless expressed. By documenting the historically situated processes of experiencing and expressing types of pain, it is possible to show both an enormous variety while insisting upon a long history of the braiding of the emotional and the physical. This has the effect, in turn, of implicitly de-naturalising and situating present-day experiences of pain and of disrupting two centuries of modern medical expertise.
Rob Boddice, The Politics of Pain
i was not made for hookup culture. love me for an eternity or do not touch me at all
“My loyalty to the past — my most dangerous trait, the one that has cost me most.”
— As Consciousness is Harnessed to Flesh: Journals & Notebooks 1964-1980 by Susan Sontag
“I want catastrophe, fighting, tears. I want to be devoured, I want to punch people. I’m restless.”
— Anais Nin, The Voice (via jaimelannister)

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“I take great care of myself by carefully shutting myself away.”
— Vincent van Gogh, Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh (via thequotejournals)
“You have me. Until every last star in the galaxy dies. You have me.”
— Amie Kaufman, Illuminae (via thequotejournals)
Red Rosa Now has vanished too Is hid from View She told the poor What life is about And so the rich Have rubbed Her out
Epitaph 1919, Bertolt Brecht, Poem Lost (via fuckyeahdialectics)
One reason that Histoire de l'Oeil and Madame Edwarda make such a strong and unsettling impression is that Bataille understood more clearly than any other writer I know of that what pornography is really about, ultimately, isn't sex but death. I am not suggesting that every pornographic work speaks, either overtly or covertly, of death. Only works dealing with that specific and sharpest inflection of the themes of lust, "the obscene," do. It's toward the gratifications of death, succeeding and surpassing those of eros, that every truly obscene quest tends.
Susan Sontag, The Porno
“Seduction involves the appeal of destroying that which seduces us.”
—
Georges Bataille, L’érotisme
(via frenchtwist)

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“Man is a credulous animal, and must believe something; in the absence of good grounds for belief, he will be satisfied with bad ones.” - Bertrand Russell, Unpopular Essays
“There are ghosts in the machine - a certain kind of spectrality is intrinsic to the speaking subject. Not any substantial subject perhaps, but the subject who speaks, the subject, that is to say, composed out of the undead, discorporate stuff of language.”
—
Mark Fisher
“We only see the violence of change…Are we aware of how much violence goes on just to keep things the way they are?”
— Slavoj Žižek
Joespeh Pintauro and Norman Laliberté, The Magic Box, 1970
“Some of it is ugly, obscene and bestial, some of it is pure and holy and spiritual: all of it is myself. James Joyce”
—

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“Disgust relies on moral obtuseness. It is possible to view another human being as a slimy slug or a piece of revolting trash only if one has never made a serious good-faith attempt to see the world through that person’s eyes or to experience that person’s feelings. Disgust imputes to the other a subhuman nature. How, by contrast, do we ever become able to see one another as human? Only through the exercise of imagination.”
— Martha Nussbaum, From Disgust to Humanity
Susan Sontag, Reborn
[text ID: fear of being left alone /no comfort, warmth, reassurance /cold world—nothing to do /more anxiety when I lie down /stand up /take a bath /loss, loss, loss /life a holding operation /end ID]