quoting from Avital Ronnel http://www.cwrl.utexas.edu/~davis/ronell4.htm
<http://www.cwrl.utexas.edu/%7Edavis/ronell4.htm>
... there are other moments when I am Hölderlinean about it, in the
sense that he says writing is the most innocent of all mortal exertions.
Initially, my decision to commit to writing--and it is a vow, a vow that
needs to be renewed--was connected to my need to be innocent in a
certain way. And I don't mean that in a naive sense. But I really felt
that anything we do in our present systems of existence is highly
contaminated, corporate, compromising, depressing, and so forth. And, of
course, writing and publishing must have their share of this kind of
conformism, but I think it is minimal, and I try to resist being a
conformist in what I sign. (cut&paste)
(write)
... and I say, I do so say.
But to be naive is to be artless, (see OED) or the metaphysical being of
artless; without technology, to invoke Heidegger. To be the subtraction,
the sub-tractions, the sub--cultures, one may say, of poetry. (Invoking
Alain Badiou on subtraction, here. The stupidity of which the
philosopher cannot face; has no face. The total lack of a subjectivity
invoked by the stupidity of the naive character in a novel.) Gavin, in
my book, swindle book one, that naive adolescent who need not fear going
hungry yet has too much to fear. Too much, overwhelmed, no longer a
subject. The subtraction of lyric. Always, this requiring of more in the
naive, sexually attractive most beautiful boy, ridiculously beautiful
and sexually attractive to both/ bother, genders and genres, yet not
able to grow a beard. Not adult. The feminine masculine to be approached
by sodomy from behind. Being, that metaphysical masculineness thought of
Being... almost but never there... my beautiful fantasy feminine
adolescent boy, invented on a computer screen and keyboard... & the
unstressed two last syllables of a line...
adolescence... the smell of a boy, that scent. Oh, most beautiful,
beautiful smelling boys, I sing you songs of praise that you may not
become men... so sad; to die so young... the dead authors... adolescent
lusts...
(and a war in viet/ nam, that too...)
and hiv/aids too...
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