outwait outrun outwit


an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
& other curiosities :: profile


So dormant these days, while I wait, impatiently, restlessly for Paris, Berlin, school (finally!), so apologies if I haven't been promptly returning any e-mails, letters, phone-calls, library books, videos or glances.


How to resist the weight of ennui? Try Nabokov's exuberantly deviant prose, defiantly feminist fables, muddy pillow fights, gleefully-lit bonfires of stuffed animals, midnight painting sessions, obsessively dissecting anatomies of love and hate, or a nectarine, its perfumed juices running drolly down chin towards lap, earth.


Under paint-flecked elbows and wrists, newspaper headlines declare artist Margaret Kilgallen dead at 33 from breast cancer, an AIDS crisis in Cambodia, and the demolition of Palestinian homes by riot-police-protected Israeli wrecking crews.


"To try to limit language is always a kind of right-wing desire. The idiom of Nixon was always under the sign of absolute clarity. Life resists that kind of clarity--and it would be crushed by the attempt to pin it down to a single meaning. Deviancy in language is something that doesn't say: obey me, follow orders, imitate me--rather: resist me."—Avital Ronell


A cancer and a plague, he gritted when interviewed. I have no sympathy for them.

Illegal houses, illegal people, living illegally.

A cancer and a plague: the construction of Palestinian houses without Israeli permits, or the people/the Palestinians/building the houses?


I almost used home instead of house, as if the two terms were interchangeable.


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