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fx untwinned in their affects

Fx should be a by-product of what you do not your reason for doing it, fx like realism, surrealism, pomo-ism, all the -isms. Consider Steve Reich’s Violin Phase. Reich extracts the effect, phasing, isolates it, inside a minimal repetitive structure, and anatomatises it, by making the music

Deleuze’s “notoriously complex conception of time” [Peter Hallward, Out of This World, p. 146]

Still the absence of time divides itself perpetually into the one same moment (repeat) – – Anne Carson, “H & A SCREENPLAY” in DECREATION, Random, N.Y., 2005, p.131

& feel. sentir

And then everything had gone comical again: whatever he was made of changing its course and lifting him, stinging. One afternoon, there’d been this rushing inside his arms and his heart doubling, racketing about – there was no way to misunderstand the terrible life that roared back in. – A.L.

not a who’s Huse

RE: Shannon Huse’s review of The Cape, at Herald Theatre, for New Zealand Herald, Monday February 11, 2008. http://nzherald.co.nz/section/1501119/story.cfm?c_id=1501119&objectid=10491668 The Cape smells like “heaven” but tastes like “hell” to Shannon Huse. She calls its drama “bloodless”

examples have feelings too

I shielded my brain from the Maximum Leader’s words, and for most of the day I succeeded. The words bounced off my ears and fell to the ground mortally wounded, gasping for meaning. – Carlos Eire, Waiting for Snow in Havana, p. 359

last entries excerpted from Etty Hillesum’s letters

the strength with which people whose lives are almost completely behind them hang on to the wretched bits of carcass that are left. – Etty Hillesum, Letters From Westerbork, p. 278 One should be able to write fairy stories here. … I have to stop right in the middle of the fairy

a simple and perfect guide to writing plays for characters who meet outside and where they meet and how to write them by Etty Hillesum

Leading lights from cultural and political circles in the big cities have also been stranded on this barren stretch of heath five hundred by six hundred metres. With one mighty convulsion all their scenery has collapsed about them, and now they stand around a little hesitantly and awkwardly on this