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Archive through December 31, 2002

Sepulchritude Forum » The Absinthe Forum » Arts & Other Philosophical Sundries » Lautréamont Quote of the Week » Archive through December 31, 2002 « Previous Next »

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Chevalier
Posted on Tuesday, December 31, 2002 - 8:03 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Betcha didn't know the English name for "avocado" is in fact "alligator pear". Betcha didn't know that.
Louched_Liver
Posted on Monday, December 30, 2002 - 12:06 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

blush
Alphasoixante
Posted on Monday, December 30, 2002 - 9:57 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

no, cause suffering ain't hip.

"There is more truth than error, more good qualities than bad ones, more pleasures than pains."
Pataphysician
Posted on Monday, December 30, 2002 - 8:23 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

BTW, this week's Lautreamont Quote Of The Week is dedicated to you, Louchy.
Louched_Liver
Posted on Monday, December 30, 2002 - 6:39 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Pata-cake,
I stand corrected, sir.
Pataphysician
Posted on Monday, December 30, 2002 - 6:30 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

No, this is solid Arts and Philosophy stuff. Just like you, I strictly adhere to the policy of posting only appropriate material in the proper threads.
Louched_Liver
Posted on Monday, December 30, 2002 - 6:19 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Lord knows that area of the Forum could use the traffic.
Louched_Liver
Posted on Monday, December 30, 2002 - 6:18 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Isn't this Suffering is Hip kinda shit?
Pataphysician
Posted on Sunday, December 29, 2002 - 8:57 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

It was a spring day. Birds spilled out their warbling canticles, and humans, having answered their various calls of duty, were bathing in the sanctity of fatigue. Everything was working out its destiny: trees, planets, sharks. All except the Creator! He was stretched out on the highway, his clothing torn. His lower lip hung down like a soporific cable. His teeth were unbrushed, and dust clogged the blond waves of his hair. Numbed by a torpid drowsiness, crushed against the pebbles, his body was making futile efforts to get up again. His strength had left him, and he lay there weak as an earthworm, impassive as treebark. Gouts of wine swamped the ruts trenched by his shoulders' nervous twitches. Swine-snouted brutishness shielded him with protective wing and cast on him its loving look. Like two blind masts his slack-muscled legs swept the soil. Blood flowed from his nostrils: his face had hit a stake as he fell....He was drunk! Dreadfully drunk! Tight as a tick which has guzzled three tuns of blood in the night! He filled the echoes with garbled comments I will desist from repeating here; even if the Supreme Drunkard has no self-respect, I must respect men. If you were to know that the Creator...got drunk!
Alphasoixante
Posted on Monday, December 23, 2002 - 7:49 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Nothing true is false; nothing false is true. All is the contrary of dream, of falsehood.
Pataphysician
Posted on Monday, December 23, 2002 - 7:34 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Yes, I feel that my soul is bolted into my body and cannot free itself to flee far from beaches beaten by the human sea, and be no longer witness to the ghastly pack of calamities which without respite, across the quagmires and abysses of boundless dejection, pursues the human izard. But I do not complain. I received life like a wound, and I have forbidden suicide to heal the scar. I want the Creator -- every hour of his eternity -- to contemplate its gaping crevasse. This is the punishment I inflict upon him.
Alphasoixante
Posted on Monday, December 16, 2002 - 7:56 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Poésies! a breath of fresh air after mal-doror. and much more "shocking" too! i got yer shock-value right here:

"I do not accept evil. Man is perfect. The soul does not fall. Progress exists. God is irreducible. Antichrists, accusing angels, eternal sufferings, religions, are the products of doubt."
Pataphysician
Posted on Monday, December 16, 2002 - 6:25 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Plagiarism is necessary. Progress implies it.
Pataphysician
Posted on Monday, December 9, 2002 - 10:08 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

That's what's great about Lautremont's writing: the criticism is built right in. He explicitly tells self-absorbed and humourless sons of bitches not to read the book, exactly why they shouldn't, and what will happen if they do.
Alphasoixante
Posted on Monday, December 9, 2002 - 9:18 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

okay, that last one's no laughing matter. this book's the sort of thing that can send resentful self-absorbed and humourless sons of bitches like the columbine clee-bold's off the deep end. nevertheless, i can't resist...

"Ancient ocean, your material vastness may be compared only with the natural force that was necessary to beget your total mass. A glance is not sufficient to encompass you. To envision your entirety the sight must revolve its telescope in a continuous movement towards the four points of the horizon, just as a mathematician when he resolves an equation must examine various possible solutions before attacking the problem. Man devours nutritive substances and, in order to appear fat, makes other efforts worthy of a better cause. Let the beloved bullfrog inflate itself to its heart's desire. Be calm: it will never equal you in size. At least I suppose not. I salute you, ancient ocean."
Pataphysician
Posted on Monday, December 9, 2002 - 8:35 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Yes... yes, I do.
Perruche_Verte
Posted on Monday, December 9, 2002 - 7:50 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

You know these quotes make my whole day, don't you?
Pataphysician
Posted on Monday, December 9, 2002 - 7:07 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

May it please heaven that the reader, emboldened, and become momentarily as fierce as what he reads, find without loss of bearings a wild and abrupt way across the desolate swamps of these sombre, poison-filled pages. For unless he bring to his reading a rigorous logic and mental application at least tough enough to balance his distrust, the deadly issues of this book will lap up his soul as water does sugar. It would not be good for everyone to read the pages which follow; only the few may relish this bitter fruit without danger. So, timid soul, before further penetration of such uncharted steppes, retrace your steps, do not advance. Hear my words well: retrace your steps, do not advance, resemble the eyes of a son who respectfully looks away when faced with an august maternal gaze...
Pataphysician
Posted on Monday, December 2, 2002 - 11:14 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

>Anybody have an illustrated versions of this book, by any chance?

Not me. I know Max Ernst made one, but I've never seen it. Dali made some drawings, but I don't think they were published with the book itself:

http://www.weinstein.com/dali/maldoror.html
Alphasoixante
Posted on Monday, December 2, 2002 - 11:01 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

so anus-themed lautréamont quote of the week is it?

"My anus has been taken over by a crab. Encouraged by my inertia he guards the entrance with his pincers and causes me much pain!

Two jellyfish deserted the sea, suddenly enticed by a hope in which they were not disappointed. They inspected narrowly the two fleshy portions which form the human backside and, attaching themselves to these convex globes, they have so squashed the flesh by their constant pressure that nothing is left but these two monsters from the kingdom of viscosity, alike in color, form, and ferocity."

Anybody have an illustrated versions of this book, by any chance?
Pataphysician
Posted on Monday, December 2, 2002 - 7:12 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Oh incomprehensible pederasts, not for me to hurl insults at your great degradation; not for me to cast scorn on your infundibuliform anus. It is enough that the shameful and almost incurable diseases which beset you bring with them their invisible punishment. Legislators of stupid institutions, inventors of narrow morality, hence! - for I am an impartial spirit...

Oh! if instead of being a hell this universe had been but an immense celestial anus - behold the gesture I make, hard by my lower abdomen: yes, I would have plunged my prick through its blood-stained sphincter, smashing the very walls of its pelvis with my impetuous movements. Misfortune would not then have blown into my blinded eyes entire dunes of shifting sand; I would have discovered the subterranean place where truth lies sleeping, and rivers of viscous sperm would thus have found an ocean in which to rush headlong!
Perruche_Verte
Posted on Tuesday, November 26, 2002 - 12:39 pm:   Edit PostPrint Post

In the personal ad, she wrote that she wanted "someone who will make me laugh."

Little did she know that she was really looking for a man to defraud her and cheat her of happiness.

So when we finally met, I pulled a gun out of my coat, pointed it at her, and said, OK, now I'm going to make you laugh. Start laughing.

Just kidding, I said. I put the gun away. She laughed, nervously.
Chevalier
Posted on Tuesday, November 26, 2002 - 8:55 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

LOL!
Alphasoixante
Posted on Monday, November 25, 2002 - 10:41 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

Theodor Adorno quote of the week:

"There is laughter because there is nothing to laugh at. Laughter, whethere conciliatory or terrible, always occurs when some fear passes. It indicates liberation either from physical danger or from the grip of logic. Conciliatory laughter is heard as the echo of an escape from power; the wrong kind overcomes fear by capitulating to the forces which are to be feared. It is the echo of power as something inescapable. Fun is a medicinal bath. The pleasure industry never fails to prescribe it. It makes laughter the instrument of the fraud practiced on happiness."
Pataphysician
Posted on Monday, November 25, 2002 - 10:02 am:   Edit PostPrint Post

"Throughout my life I have seen, without one exception, narrow-shouldered men performing innumerable idiotic acts, brutalising their fellows, and corrupting souls by every means. They call the motive for their actions: fame. Seeing these exhibitions l've longed to laugh, with the rest, but that strange imitation was impossible. Taking a penknife with a sharp-edged blade, I slit the flesh at the points joining the lips. For an instant I believed my aim was achieved. I saw in a mirror the mouth ruined at my own will! An error! Besides, the blood gushing freely from the two wounds prevented my distinguishing whether this really was the grin of others. But after some moments of comparison I saw quite clearly that my smile did not resemble that of humans: the fact is, I was not laughing."

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