Endangered Predators - Cassius Song

'Stop eating Shark's fin' - or 'finished with fin'
- contra, incidental, on individuals harmed by sharks.
- thought about all the endangered predators, i.e., bears, tigers... in this age. the emergence of our sympathy for these fierce predators..
- predators used to consumed, we want to save ourselves from them, from the encounter.
- the power of  late capitalism, the apex of consumerism is that the absolute consumers (predators) are being consumed as well, preying on predators, the predators are preys themselves,
- an image of a shark, the open jaws of tiger, whatever, open to swallow itself.

The Photographer; An executioner's assistant

photograph of a camera
picture of an execution
photo of a photographer
shooting a picture

shutter speed and dropping blade

late 18th or 19th century

the same pose when one gets fucked in the ass

motherfuckers
kill motherfuckers

bed bench and bend

Panzer Delete

The wind,
imitating a night in Jena,
has blown
and flipped
back to three pages ago.
The page just read
- read but remember nothing.
You don’t remember anything as well
when you blew your mind and memory
but feel the wind blowing the hair has aged
hazy weather or head
when you are next to the old window.

English, language of imperialism - Lecercle

Since this formulation has a slightly provocative, if not insulting, aspect to it
(but my starting-point prompts strong reactions), I shall begin by explaining
the position I am speaking from. I am an Anglicist and have devoted my life
to the English language, which I love with a passion (I take the title of Milner’s
L’amour de la langue seriously).2 I am not only an Anglophile but an Anglomaniac.
And loving the English language entails a passionate attraction to the grammar
of this language, its sounds, its history, the literature that it sustains, the
culture that is inscribed and sedimented in it. In short, I think I can claim
that I am not an Anglophobe. However, it is clear that English has become
the global language and the language of globalisation because it is the language
of empire, whose practices are ever more explicitly imperialist. [...]The issue is controversial, but it preoccupies all those who are interested in English as the language of globalisation.5 For the language of
empire is not only in a position of strength, but also in a position of weakness

A Marxist Philosophy of Language, p. 7

Cassius Song - Instruction # 9 - of films I did not understand

One year of watching films I have seen, when I was a child, but did not understand, but fail to comprehend, once again.

On Boredom - Georges Bernanos

“Well, as I was saying, the world is eaten up by boredom. To perceive this needs a little preliminary thought: you can’t see it all at once. It is like dust. You go about and never notice, you breathe it in, you eat and drink it. It is sifted so fine, it doesn’t even grit on your teeth. But stand still for an instant and there it is, coating your face and hands. To shake off this drizzle of ashes you must be forever on the go. And so people are always “on the go.” Perhaps the answer would be that the world has long been familiar with boredom, that such is the true condition of man. No doubt the seed was scattered all over life, and here and there found fertile soil to take root; but I wonder if man has ever before experienced this contagion, this leprosy of boredom: an aborted despair, a shameful form of despair in some way like the fermentation of a Christianity in decay.”

- Georges Bernanos, Diary of a Country Priest, p.2

We watch things pass by in order to forget that they are watching us die. - Joë Bousquet

Adapted to the life whose phemomena it reflects, thought forbids itself to form a part of its totality. We see only the fact in a fact, we forbid ourselves to discover in it an episode of a life doomed to death.
Our thought does not choose to be the thought of our life. We watch things pass by in order to forget that they are watching us die.

*****
If only my existence, like that of a tree, were the fixity of a site... Or else, like that of my mind, the obliteration of all sites. but I am like that passer-by over there; watch him walk, he seems to be running after a car. He is himself, as the feather that flies is a bird.

*****
.. The whole house is changed, and seems to grow and fall silent, to construct around me a solitude in which the mounting silence of space introduces the majesty and the seething of a sea. A word that comes to my lips completes my fascination with the vision of this structure suddenly open to the invisible and to the void. This word is: absence.