outside light (Page 171)

outside light

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Not this time I

The weightless singularity does not presuppose any sense, nor does it discover any sense through its experience in the world.Sense unfolds as creation, as a connecting desire, as the delirium that illuminates the event.For the members of the virtual class, who produce value by investing their cognitive labour,

false effort

So much of the performance of conventional NZ masculinity – what it means to be a man – can be summed up as false effort. The voice lowers, even to shuddering in its lowest registers. Speech is halting. It is a machine that stalls, turns over, starts up again with a cough,

from island to volcano

unyielding insularity takes itself tothe arena of its own closure, the quasi-incantatory expending of the ‘I’ towards thecrossroads of its own necessary undoing, an over-exhaustion of the Self to the point of itsirrelevance, its self-excising, its reflexive desolation. Moreover, annihilation would by rightrepresent the most volatile engagement

Wellington loved us in April

in praise of Linus Torvald and another human being

Am I speaking with Mr. Taylor? Yes. Mr. Tony Taylor? No, his son. Can I please speak with Mr. Tony Taylor? No. I’m afraid Mr. Tony Taylor is no longer with us. Has he got like a divorce? A what? A di-v-horse? No. He passed away. So

lucky escapes

.different fronts