Today, apparently, everything seems to be a ghost, claims to be the already-dead. I am disconcerted and caught out. I hope it’s not a day of premonitions, because the things that they foretell are not pleasant — are to try to be avoided.
And I hate it when things are explained to me that I should have already known, but didn’t, and that I really didn’t ever want to know.
§ As you get older, the ghosts become more real than anything else.
§ Under the leaves, soil. Under the soil, stone. Under the stone, souls.
§ Radically empowering individuals in society may be the worst mistake we ever made.
§ Want to be a radical? Refuse to suffer. Then, wait for the assault.
§ Goodbye 2017, part two. (The real part.)
§ Sometimes you find home where you’ve never been—and you dwell where you aren’t.
§ The self can’t play Atlas for postmodernity because science is now supernatural.
§ Rehab is universal. So is history.
§ Identity, transcendence, and tactics.
§ Untitled. (a.k.a. Pretty faces, new old photos.)