And More Words

adding to the conversation

Category: Thinking Aloud

Spinning Away

It's hard to live in what feels like the linear end-of-things. I have been using social media to get away from worry for so long, but now it is where I must get away from. I'm going to take up reading again, deep long books, in between worrying about my own situation, my family's, the world's. But I need that space to be effective, to be me, to feel human.

There's a lot to worry about. So maybe it's good to remember (to allow) ourselves this: it is okay to live.

It's okay to take a step back; it's okay to block the world out for a bit. It will be there all the same. Read a book, take a walk, ...

Thinking In Turn

Nihilism as Freedom, Never as Truth

Shulamith Firestone on the investigations and eradications of biological sex
Taking Marxist analysis "deeper" into the root divisions of [re]production.

It's amazing to see this written in 1970, discussing the future "genderless and genderfluidity" that, here now 50 years later, we are finally seeing reach mainstream. Corporate media is so far behind darling, well over half a century!

And people think these "alternate" gender/sexualities are "new." Ha! That novelty is, I think, the apposite side of Giorgio Agamben's State of Exception: where capital(ism) wou...

Readings: Week of February 10


  • An Æsthetics for Infants
    Genuinely one of the funniest things I have read, delightful and wondrous in the best sense of it. What would a more engaged, less cereberal world look like?
    I am particularly interested in thinking about this "baby aesthetics" in conversation against the dominating sense of our contemporary world, in it's overwhelming banality. Mine is the generation of the already-burned-out: we face climate change, neoliberal love lives, the return of fascism.

  • The Willowbrook School
    A sad place, featured in the same issue of The Village Voice as Donald Trump's eviction of...


"Notes of a Chronic Re-Reader" (TPR)


The way books are in the world, and the ways in which we connect them. One of the wondrous (strange? alarming?) things about our late night conversations is that the next day I cannot remember fully if I said something, merely thought it, or heard you say it.

There's a delicious sort of mixing that occurs in that space between my head, the pillow, and the cell network that connects my voice to yours. Disorienting, but not disconcerting.

The outside world is shuttered in white. The university is closed, which only happens every few years at most....

On Linux

 I try to be a quiet zealot. But there are a few things I firmly believe in: the importance of historical awareness in the fight for social and material justice; the value of both knowledge and thinking; and the right of self-determination 1. All of which then combine with my background in tech to—of course—make me a GNU/Linux user. (Which here I will call Linux for ease of use, no slight to the GNU Project.)

So I take a break from my normally-scheduled writing—as if anything is scheduled or rigorous around here—to talk to you a bit about Linux. I don't think this will become a regular thing (...

Follow the Spiders

Nothing To Report, but These Reports Report on Some Good Reporting

The Black Scholar
Overseen by some good people, they open the archives pretty regularly for anyone interested in historical blackness*.

The Belmont Report by U.S. HHS
Guides U.S. ethical research on human subjects. Came out after the Tuskeegee experiments, and all sorts of COINTELPRO-type work on soldiers.

Too weird not to share:

Today is a Day That Twines Up Around Us

There And Back...Again

And then I get to come home and stare into another (smaller) screen to work on applications and a personal essay and and and...there's a lot of work to do. Sometimes I feel like all I have energy for is to keep myself from falling ever further inward and downward. Part loneliness, part...something. I do not do well with nothing to do, with nothing to think about, without novelty.

Whether that novelty is in the milieu about me (travel) or in a sense of intellectual voyage makes no real difference. I am quite happy to gaze at NASA's APoD blog, wondering at the scale of the...

Back To It

I biked home through the snowfall yesterday—first of the season—nearly blinding myself with the sharp falling flakes.

I got back to the house, came inside and took a hot shower. The bike doesn't have fenders, and before it snowed it rained, and everything between my stomach and my ankles was soaked with freezing water.

But it's the sensation of suddenly coming back to awareness that I want to talk about. In the shower, suddenly feeling like I was back to being aware? That I had biked home, mono-maniacally focused on getting back, with very little attention paid to vehicles, or really anything ...

Of No Importance

It is funny, how I think I always have to be doing something. Making something, reading something, "on."

I almost think that this overbearing since of responsibility is what I "rebel" against and thus do less than I would with a healthier relationship to work.

Work, productivity, something. All the barriers in my head, things to work through. Anxiety, attention, worth, ideas of desire and duty.

What do I think I have to do? Find a way to be successful. Know what I want, and try for it. I really am drawn to a life of imagined rigour, of measured progress, refinement (even in "vulgarity"), and a...

Being Good

I suspect that, for all the philosophizing and thinking in circles, we actually know what it means to be good. Even if all axioms must fall to some long-tail case or another, if all rules are broken by one of the trillions of possibilities in existence. That we actually do know, we just have a hard time saying what it is that we know.

The Perils of Perfection

The first hurdle, of course, is finding something to write about. Casting a mental net wide over the lake of experience, and seeing what writhing wretched things are pulled in.

Then, even before I begin writing, the second thing I must ...