Sunday, April 27, 2008Metempsychosis
How to tell when you've arrived as a decadent intellectual:
- You're reading a novel that's regarded as one of the biggest loads of pretentious wank in modern (or maybe more accurately, post-post-modern) literature. You're thoroughly enjoying it. While reading, you catch and appreciate a three-word reference ("the afternoon's meshes") to an obscure American mid-century avant-garde filmmaker whom you have previously spent considerable time studying.
- While not reading that book, you're reading another book on the socio-sexual underground in Weimar-era Berlin. (Those people were freaks!)
- The word you use to title of the self-indulgent, otherwise-pointless blog post in which you onanistically write about the inter-textual back-and-forth of your current reading, is itself a reference not only to the load of wank mentioned therein, but also to an earlier load of wank to which it refers by use of a lame pun.
- Stuff like this:
(lifted from Pictures For Sad Children)
... delights you so much that you cut it out and tape it to a co-workers locker. And they love it, too.
PS: Several people have asked, and yeah, my back is getting significantly better, thanks for your concern. |