Peering through a lens at the fluid, substratum scale Covid-19 moves through, I can’t help note their physical body’s semblance to World War 2 naval mines, drifting in swells of ocean current. But Covid-19 doesn’t drift, it has agency. It isn’t conscious, doesn’t think, but it does have agency to perform one function: propagate. In …
(This is arguably too long for a blog post, but I wrote it in Word & it was honestly just easier due to time constraints to dump it in one, especially owing to the footnotes. I think the ideas in here, if a little dense, are worth bearing with & attempting to absorb. I have …
An object oriented poem with a little savoury biology. We eat, mashing the meat of the matter with calcium evolved enough to cope with it. Flesh of its flesh become flesh of our flesh. Nothing, not even death can be inert. The meat of it never thought, despite the organisms nattering via calendar & root, …
Thanks to David Cooke for taking these two very different, very new poems; one written in December while I was in Brixham over Christmas & the other written only a week or so ago. Accompanying the poems are a few hundred words of explanatory prose on the hyperobject, a term I use in the poem …
(More untidy, preliminary insights from reading Heidegger. ) Taking a thing for granted is complex. There is an art to not taking something for granted. Being in the world is firmly established, as we interact with other things, tools or technologies, in order to provide the balance needed to be alive, we don’t exactly sense …
Continue reading "Learning the art of not-taking-for-granted"
Metaphor to magnify This may be a bit rambling, it may chime, but this is a semi-riff-with-structured-argument on a number of books (provided at the end) I have read in the past month (except Being & Time, which I am currently reading, but which has featured in good measure in Morton’s & Harman’s books). I …
The Rock (not the muscle-headed Hollywood Rock who doesn’t perform his own stunts but looks hard like he does) in T.S. Eliot’s play explains, The lot of man is ceaseless labour,Or ceaseless idleness, which is still harder,Or irregular labour, which is not pleasant. Now assuming idle here isn’t a play on idol—which, with a lit-crit …
…“THE DEATH OF LOVE OF ANYTHING…”written on the front of a cute girl's t-shirt.I hate people who wear sloganed t-shirtsas if it speaks volumes about their “life philosophy.”The kind of people who might say“I went to the University of Life” but work in an office.You cannot experience the death of anything you live beyond | …
Continue reading "Wasting time in a café (until evening time thereabout)"
The above pic is not from Yeongsil Trail, but Donnaeko Trail, which is connected. The pic captures a hazy view of Seogwipo, the 2nd, other, southern city of Jeju. Donnaeko is, for roughly 6km a steep path, sheltered by dark umbrage most of the way—you suddenly come out of the trial & are met with …
The 4th poem from my long narrative poem Yoon Yong. (If you go to 'Korea Poems' in the menu, you can find the first 3.) I still keep looking over these, thinking they should be read in a book, but I have yet to take action toward this, I still haven't quite remedied with myself …
Continue reading "Midflight digression III Yoon Yong on language (8:37 a.m.)"
