I’ve been reading Whitman, you know what he says, cheer up slaves, and horrify foreign despots, he means that’s the attitude for the bard, the zen lunacy bard of old desert paths, see the whole thing is a world full of rucksack wanderers, dharma bums refusing to subscribe to the general demand that they consume production and there have to work for the privilege of consuming, all that crap they didn’t really want anyway such as refrigerators, tv sets, cars, at least new fancy cars, certain hair oils and deodorants and general junk you finally always see a week later in the garbage anyway, all of them imprisoned in a system of work, produce, consume, work, produce, consume, I see a vision of a great rucksack revolution thousands or even millions of young Americans wandering around with rucksacks, going up into the mountains to pray, making children laugh and old men glad, making young girls happy and old girls happier, all of ‘em zen lunatics who go about writing poems that happen to appear in their heads for no reason and also by being kind and also by strange unexpected acts keep giving visions of eternal freedom to everybody and to all living creatures.
What’s everyone reading today?
I bet Zeus became a lot more open-minded after having Athena.
I have not tried to write the history of that language, but rather the archaeology of that silence.
— Michel Foucault
, from Madness & Civilization: A History of Insanity in the Age of Reason
a group of people is called a hell
I feel entirely dehumanised by the sun now, and wish for fog, snow, rain, humanity.
A man is up against a hard game when he must die to beat it.
— Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God