"Humanity is a petrified fiction hiding from zero, a purgatorial imprisonment of dissolution, but to be stricken with sanctity is to bask in death like a reptile in the sun. God is dead, but immeasurably more importantly, God is death (except ‘God’ means the fascist ass-hole of the West). The beginning of the secret is that death (= 0) is immense.
***
From birth we are brain-washed into conformity with the cage, taught to accumulate, to shore ourselves up, to fear madness and death. Trapped in a constricting tangle of language routines we tread a narrow circuit in the maze
We are told that chance will not take care of us, and that it is difficult to live but work and seriousness are slums of delusion the garbage-heap of individuation has no worth what is called life at the outer edge of patriarchy is a bleak box of lies, drudgery, and anaesthesia blended with inane agony what matters about the outside of the box is not just that it is the outside of the box, but that it is immense what matters is the abyss, the gulf"
***
They want us to fear death so much, but we can inhabit it like vermin, it can be our space, in our violent openness to the sacred death will protect us against their exterminations, driven insane by zero, we can knot ourselves into the underworld, communicate through it, cook their heavenly city in our plague. we can scamper in and out of the maze in a way they cannot understand,
[...]
i crossed the line into death
which is called Hell because the police control heaven [...]
N. Land; Fluent Bodies

Hell is other Goyim
J.P. Sartre(Allegedly)

I'm watching Portrait of a Lady on Fire, my beautiful.

FUCKING PURE CINEMA.

"You dreamt of me?"
"-No, I thought of You."
C. Sciamma; Portrait of a Lady on Fire, 2019

Everything in this wretched place produces exhaustion and terror for a person. Anyway, we waste our lives in futility, and from every (political) side—whether left or right—we’re cursed at like sand, and it’s as if I myself am responsible for everyone else’s fuck-ups. Everyone demands that I fulfill my social duties, but no one asks whether I can even afford to buy paper and pen or not? Whether I have a bed or a comfortable room or not? And then I ask myself: in an environment where I have no right to live at all, what duty is there for me to defend other scoundrels? Even these lamentings have become idiotic. Everything in this shit-ridden land becomes stupidly absurd.

Sadegh Hedayat
Letters to Shahid Nouraei

George’s Tuesday.

François Laruelle save me
Save me François Laruelle

It’s just question of time

Big things happening in Abstract Culture and the Anthro-Capitalocene

Agonist Transbians are being self-created in kindergarten!!

Hell yeah. Drop a fun fact about You in the comments section.