One has just been sent out as a biblical dove, has found nothing green, and slips back
into the darkness of the ark -- Kafka

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Cioran: A Final Word from "Drawn and Quartered"

Will read his Short History of Decay next. Have already started. Earlier Cioran. Let's compare.


A final word (the final words) from Drawn and Quartered:

Novalis says; (sic) "It depends on us to make the world accord with our will." This is precisely the contrary of everything we can think and feel at the end of a life, and, with all the more reason, at the end of history . . .

"An Iron Bird Sailing Past Death"

These were the only words that were in my Stats' "Search Word(s)" this morning: You might know who that led them to (more exactly, the quote is: "a big iron bird..."). Anyway, a nice phrase, seemingly apropos, though I'm not sure it's in sync with Cioran.

Sunday, March 22, 2015

Cioran: His Aphoristic Self

     Perhaps we should publish only our first drafts, before we ourselves know what we are trying to say.
     Only unfinished -- because unfinishable -- works prompt us to speculate about the essence of art.
     What cannot be translated into mystical language does not deserve to be experienced.
     L. wants to know if I have a suicide line, but I hide my hands, and rather than show them to him, I shall always wear gloves in his presence.
     A book should open old wounds, even inflict new ones. A book should be a danger

Cioran: Is Consciousness a Curse?

Speaking of plants and animals...

Jealous of their unconsciousness, basis of their salvation, we would be as they are, and furious at being unable to become so, we meditate their ruin, we strive to interest them in our misfortunes in order to revenge ourselves upon them. It is the animals we resent most of all: what would we not give to strip them of their silence, to convert them to language, to inflict upon them the abjection of speech! The charm of a life without reflexion, of existence as such being forbidden to us, we cannot bear that others should delight in it.

Cioran: The Self-Made Apocalypse

It may be at hand, the day when, no longer able to endure that mass of fear we have accumulated, we shall collapse beneath the burden with which it overwhelms us. This time the fire from heaven will be our fire, and to escape it we shall rush to the depths of the earth, far from a world we ourselves have spoiled and disfigured. And we shall sojourn beneath the dead and envy their repose and their beatitude, those carefree skulls forever on vacation, those calmed and modest skeletons, freed at last from the impertinences of the blood and the claims of the flesh.

I Can't Resist the Urge: Marking the Day

Head cold. Slept past 6 but still tramped around the lagoon. Dragged. Squinted. Soaked in the cool morning air. Found these next to the john next to Marine Stadium.


Who will make the last mark(s) and how will we ever know?


Saturday, March 21, 2015

From Cioran's "Drawn and Quartered"

A reading period in which I'm jumping from book to book. Lots of starts, few finishes. Just the way it is: work and restless sleep. Sometimes the way we come to a writer is as interesting as the writer him/herself. Or at least both are interesting. So it is with Cioran. Found him in a circuitous way. Settled first on Drawn and Quartered.


Despite everything, man pulverized his last prejudice, and his last belief; when he finally  brings himself to do so, dazzled and destroyed by his own audacity, he will find himself naked facing the abyss that follows upon the disappearance of all dogmas, and of all taboos.