mirandaisms

2010-09-29T20:21:00.001-07:00

FOR ILLUSION ISN'T THE OPPOSITE OF REALITY...

2010-03-06T16:32:00.000-08:00

The world in itself resembles nothing. As concept and discourse it relates to many other things - as pure object, it is unidentifiable.

The photographic operation is a kind of reflex or automatic writing of the self-evidence of the world, which is not self-evident at all.

In the generic illusion of the image, the problem of the real no longer arises. It is effaced by its very movement, which passes immediately and spontaneously beyond true and false, beyond real and unreal, beyond good and evil.

The image is not a medium for which we have to find the proper use. It is what it is and it is beyond all our moral considerations. It is by its essence immoral, and the world's becoming-image is an immoral process. It is up to us to escape our representation and to become ourselves the immoral vehicle of the image. Up to us to become objects again, and to become once again other in a seductive relation to the world.

To make way for the silent complicity between object and objective lens, between appearances and technology, between the physical quality of light and the metaphysical complexity of the technical apparatus, without bringing in either vision or meaning. For it is the object which sees us, the object which dreams us. It is the world which reflects us, it is the world which thinks us. This is the basic rule.

The magic of photography is that it is the object which does all the work. Photographers will never admit this and will argue that all the originality lies in their inspiration and their photographic interpretation of the world. As a result they take photographs which are either bad or too good, confusing their subjective vision with the reflex miracle of the photographic act.

Jean Baudrillard

2010-02-06T17:19:00.001-08:00

"Millions of books written on every conceivable subject by all these great minds and in the end, none of them knows anything more about the big questions of life than I do … I read Socrates. This guy knocked off little Greek boys. What the Hell’s he got to teach me? And Nietzsche, with his theory of eternal recurrence. He said that the life we lived we’re gonna live over again the exact same way for eternity. Great. That means I’ll have to sit through the Ice Capades again. It’s not worth it. And Freud, another great pessimist. I was in analysis for years and nothing happened. My poor analyst got so frustrated, the guy finally put in a salad bar. Maybe the poets are right. Maybe love is the only answer."

Woody Allen (Hannah and Her Sisters)

2010-01-05T19:59:00.001-08:00

ON HIATUS

2010-01-04T13:17:00.000-08:00

{in love}

you ready, girls?

2009-12-18T14:24:00.001-08:00

:kubrick ftw

2009-12-16T17:05:00.000-08:00

Playboy Interview with Stanley Kubrick, 1968

: the collective unconscious weeps

2009-12-15T13:56:00.001-08:00

"Anyone who wants to know the human psyche will learn next to nothing from experimental psychology. He would be better advised to abandon exact science, put away his scholar's gown, bid farewell to his study, and wander with human heart throughout the world. There in the horrors of prisons, lunatic asylums and hospitals, in drab suburban pubs, in brothels and gambling-hells, in the salons of the elegant, the Stock Exchanges, socialist meetings, churches, revivalist gatherings and ecstatic sects, through love and hate, through the experience of passion in every form in his own body, he would reap richer stores of knowledge than text-books a foot thick could give him, and he will know how to doctor the sick with a real knowledge of the human soul. "

-Carl Jung

2009-12-11T15:25:00.001-08:00

Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.

She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.

Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, a certain initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.

2009-12-01T17:35:00.001-08:00

2009-12-01T17:33:00.001-08:00

2009-12-01T17:22:00.001-08:00

GPOYW

2009-11-25T20:57:00.001-08:00

Jessy Matador : Décalé Gwada

2009-11-23T15:34:00.000-08:00

what do YOU know about african dancehall?
this little parisian girl seems to know way more than me,
that's for sure.

: to enjoy oneself without limits, to die

2009-11-17T15:11:00.000-08:00

the way it feels against my skin is like this: coarse and keen and patient. my sensory perception arrives at an in-between point, one road leading towards sadism, the other logic, a precision that manifests itself only in this idea of permanence, this kind of longing towards a whole understanding of the self. today, i woke up in a state of jouissance, of absolute pleasure, of indulgence, and with that, an acute sense of pain, of suffering with the last taste of juice still fresh on my taste buds. today, i accept the uncertainties of being with my entire body. today, i revel in the organic state of pleasure, of jouissance.

: window

2009-11-14T15:30:00.000-08:00

had a strange encounter with the wind today, as if evidence of me shaking from the cold in the middle of november was a feeling reserved only for the east coast, for foreign territories. i was genuinely cold, just like that; after months of feeling the heaviness of some burn, this undulating sting of searing chaos, the same chaos i had tried so desperately to avoid--i was shivering. it was then, when nature felt alive, well enough to console the unbridled hysteria that was 2009, that i remember the girl i had failed to be, and the girl i know still finding herself. i was mistaken about you this entire time--it is winter now, and i admire the people we've become, i admire the sincerity of uncertainty that is so poignant in our friendship. Winter, what better season to fall in love, what better season to realize how fragile my skin can be when it graces the wind, how beautiful blurry lines are, and your face in the dark, only barely draped by the moonlight?

winter has arrived, suddenly
and my senses? they feel sharp

: relevant

2009-11-08T12:56:00.000-08:00

INTERNET-AGE WRITING SYLLABUS AND COURSE OVERVIEW

also, this

THIS AMERICAN LIFE: INFIDELITY

2009-11-08T09:49:00.001-08:00

: oh, burroughs

2009-11-07T16:03:00.000-08:00

you haunt my daydreams

"The idea that addiction is somehow a psychological illness is, I think, totally ridiculous. It’s as psychological as malaria. It’s a matter of exposure. People, generally speaking, will take any intoxicant or any drug that gives them a pleasant effect if it is available to them."

-William S. Burroughs, Opiate Fiend

: want

2009-11-07T12:35:00.000-08:00

... a pink wig

: goooooogle

2009-11-07T12:26:00.001-08:00

: Ready, Able

2009-11-06T20:29:00.001-08:00

For Jenny, because I love her (and I miss her, where you been giiiirl?)

: RIP David Foster Wallace

2009-11-06T09:42:00.000-08:00

Brief Interviews with Hideous Men

based on the novel

Infinite Jest

by the late David Foster Wallace

: truthspeak

2009-11-06T08:45:00.001-08:00

via modern futurist

: for rachel

2009-11-05T16:39:00.000-08:00

Ernest Hemingway fishing

: classic

2009-11-05T16:01:00.001-08:00

: the BQE in all of its mundanity

2009-10-30T15:03:00.000-07:00

film and score by sufjan stevens

Interlude I—Dream Sequence in Subi Circumnavigation

from Asthmatic Kitty on Vimeo.

: Untitled

2009-10-28T11:35:00.000-07:00

Jenny, you're comin' with me to this.

: chloe sevigny for VICE

2009-10-28T10:17:00.000-07:00

: 2048 east third street

2009-10-24T11:30:00.000-07:00

i miss you.

: mirandaphoto.tumblr.com

2009-10-24T11:24:00.000-07:00

mirandaphoto.tumblr.com

: west/best coast

2009-10-23T19:17:00.000-07:00

go west, and find me.

: gobbledigook

2009-10-22T08:40:00.000-07:00

Sigur Rós - Gobbledigook from Sigur Rós on Vimeo.

this is what i want to do with my life.

: cher vous et vous et vous et vous

2009-10-18T00:08:00.000-07:00

for all the strangers that I know

Can we start over? I haven't talked to you in a while, and it makes me sad. Today, I thought about you nostagically. Something about the fog that huddled over 2nd street, and Broadway, and PCH that made me think of you. When did we become so tired, and disillusioned? When was it exactly did we find ourselves waist-deep in this void of motivation, the black hole in which we find ourselves desperately trying to crawl out of? If we start over, can we forget about all of that? And can we dress in warm, neutral fabrics and drink hot chocolate--can we smoke in the rain together and feel the comfort of opposite temperatures--the heat from my cigarette, and the cold from the rain? Can we watch the cars go by feeling so confident, much like what it feels to be young, to be artfully in control? Steady hands, lingering smoke. How about we start over, and I'll invite you out to the movies on weekday nights, when we're both already ruminating on what's lost, what will happen next. We can go for coffee, and we can tell all of our new friends to meet us, maybe even some of our old ones, and we can plan something exciting for some time soon, not something too far out in the future, where are hearts get ahead of us, where we find so much of our hopes go only to disappear. No, we'll plan for a simple rendezvous this week, or next, one that includes all of us and the fire then will be some kind of magnet which brings us all together, which keeps us all warm. I'm ready to start over, to start over without looking back, and to take you with me on an adventure, one that feels familiar, but much more sincere. If you want to, we can start over, and it won't be like the first time; it will be better.

: how to disappear completely

2009-10-17T14:53:00.001-07:00

: jouissance

2009-10-13T17:16:00.000-07:00

(jacques lacan: theory of jouissance)

: Alain Delon and Romy Schneider

2009-10-11T17:32:00.000-07:00

: los abrazos rotos

2009-10-10T21:04:00.000-07:00

los abrazos rotos

: el otoño

2009-10-10T20:54:00.000-07:00

we begin, slowly, shuffling through pages of what was once whole, what is now floating aimlessly in the atmosphere as tiny fragments in a place I know best as space. there are no seasons where I come from. so tell me, what temperature have you been feeling lately?