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Né-net A/W 2013-14

Né-net A/W 2013-14

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genius

genius

(Source: peppermitn)

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why need mechanism and the true be thought of so indistinguishably?

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http://solarluxuriance.tumblr.com/post/62282564614/the-sun-in-batailles-universe-gives-its-light

solarluxuriance:

"The sun, in Bataille’s universe, gives its light without reserve or return, in an originary dépense. It is at the same time the most elevated conception and that which, as the cause of light and the condition of vision, cannot be looked at. Its sight is as scandalous and as insupportable as…

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"

The world to which we have belonged proposes nothing to love outside of each individual insufficiency: its existence is limited to its convenience. A world that can’t be loved to death – in the same way a man loves a woman – represents nothing but personal interest and the obligation to work. If it is compared with worlds that have disappeared it is hideous and seems the most failed of all of them.

In those disappeared worlds it was possible to lose oneself in ecstasy, which is impossible in the world of educated vulgarity. Civilization’s advantages are compensated for by the way men profit by it: men of today profit by it to become the most degraded of all beings who have ever existed.

"
Georges Bataille, 1936 (via fearfullight)
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worshipingflows:

Although I know it, the pathetic movements of the arts remind me, ceaselessly, the object of my wait is not peace, but the immense delirium of the universe, in which the beating of my heart is mingled - demanding that I be a part of it.

(Georges Bataille - Aphorisms)

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maybe actually kind of an overstatement (at El Torino)

maybe actually kind of an overstatement (at El Torino)

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mike kelley (at Geffen Contemporary)

mike kelley (at Geffen Contemporary)

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"I wanted to be sure to reach you;
though my ship was on the way it got caught
in some moorings. I am always tying up
and then deciding to depart. In storms and
at sunset, with the metallic coils of the tide
around my fathomless arms, I am unable
to understand the forms of my vanity
or I am hard alee with my Polish rudder
in my hand and the sun sinking. To
you I offer my hull and the tattered cordage
of my will. The terrible channels where
the wind drives me against the brown lips
of the reeds are not all behind me. Yet
I trust the sanity of my vessel; and
if it sinks, it may well be in answer
to the reasoning of the eternal voices,
the waves which have kept me from reaching you."
To the Harbormaster - Frank O’Hara (via llevelling)