To a certain mentality, any form of exclusivity is thrilling. Mastering the obfuscatory prose of Derrida, for example.
Tobias Esterhase, Codes and Encoding.
…commonplace words set apart and made into large dull images, macramé celebrations of the vulva, blunt presentations of paint and its dripping and clotting and tactile properties, dreary video loops endlessly cycling (of people speaking to the camera, of people displaying their private parts, of architectural fronts captured in slow tracking shots), ordinary materials (rope, linoleum, gingham fabric) juxtaposed in vapid displays. The only detectable intent was that of engendering a mild annoyance, an irritation, in the witness.
Crispin Trove, The Viewer as Pest.
…because in reading Carlotta’s book, he found that it was possible to compress the real content of a chapter into three or four sentences.
Quentin Drabb, Ebenezer’s Untold Tales.
Pride in one’s lack of ability. What are the consequences of inculcating this?
Titus Musgrave, Carthago Delenda Est.
No, they see the society as being perfectable. Not the individual. The particular citizens they regard as so many boiled eggs, to be chopped up and made into a spread.
Desmond Urquhart, The Unsocial Sciences.
“Well, George, what are the lovely words of our tongue? If you don’t mind my asking.”
Corinna Sparks, Turning to Stone.
ayes and dears
Andrew Tertullian, Pandora’s Ponderous Puns.
Tristram was beside himself. Practically glowing, in fact. You see, he had just found out. That his paper—the new one—had been accepted for presentation. At something called the Aspen Festival of Ideas.
Tina Gryde, Flower Children.
“I do love tumbling dearly,” whispered Lady Paulina.
Gideon Hawley, The Gentleman’s Progress. (1749)
“…and all such kidding, prodding, jostling, weedling, mockerie, jeering, cajolerie, pulling of hair, mashing of the toe, cod walking, Tom foolerie, shouting aloud in all daye light, the trickerie of the numbers….
Tobias Pym, “The Smythfield Daye” (1630)
Paul Crackenthorpe, English Pamphleteers of the Seventeenth Century.
dennis scharnberg 