Tuesday, August 23, 2005

thought it's just that the vibrancy of the tulips are mocking Plath's death wish/death-like peace.

death wish: i have no idea what she's in the hospital for this time, but hey, we all know that she's suicidal (yeah. duh.)

death-like peace/serenity: "Look how white everything is, how quiet, how snowed-in." & "be utterly empty./How free it is, you have no idea how free -/The peacefulness is so big it dazes you,/...It is what the dead close on, finally"


if someone said this in class already - sorry. it was near five, too many words were floating, i got nothing.

Monday, August 22, 2005

it's 2am...

I'm at page 100 of The Metamorphosis and I'm thinking, it's only all in his mind. Imagine, a human body wriggling out of bed. He can move his limbs, mind, but he doesn't know or realise that, and he uses his head and mouth to open the door. Wait until he realises that he can move.

Sunday, August 21, 2005

me likey the fat black woman

... because it's simpler than reading Grosz.

Grosz kept her word and solved nothing. Then again, she's asking for a major headache if we were to de-binarised and think reason for reason itself.

How is it possible anyway? you take in history, you take it out. you consider psychoanalysis, you don't. Ultimately there's still this subjective mind/soul (no I'm not saying that they are equal. I just don't know) that's doing the thinking, and all knowledges will be coming with conditionals and everything.

erm. If I'm missing anything, that's because I am missing something. If Grosz did mention something about ways to achieve knowledge for knowledge itself - I can name-drop Irigaray but I probably shouldn't because the last part pretty much escaped me.

On a personal note, The Fat Black Woman's Poems are refreshing. All the socio-political historio-whatever hangovers aside, it's real wonderful to see folds of fat being depicted as sensual. It's sexy, even. It's sexiness shoved in your face. Nichols' poems are like hard black lines on white paper ("Black Poem...", "... And a Fat Poem" and "Afterword"). Kind of like "Fat feels/as fat please" (from "Fat Poem"): "fat" being driven in by repetition and I don't know about anyone else, but the line just says that flesh is pleasing to the touch as opposed to feeling up Kate Moss - or Ally McBeal. And that came after "Black as the intrusion/of a rude wet tongue" ("Black Poem")... it's almost raw energy being on the offensive as she's being (one would think) defensive ("Motto on Her Bedroom Door").

There's more to say but the train carrying my thoughts are running off course, so...

me likey the fat black woman.

Saturday, August 20, 2005

to get me started

first up: I'm late, I know.

second: Note to self - Grosz did say that she's exacerbating whatever that she wanted to exacerbate. As her name implies (as in the sound of her name anyhow - there's a term for this?), she's grossly overdoing it.

third: I'm here posting this non-post only to stop myself from hitting my head against the wall while rereading her piece in hope of some lightbulb going off in my head. My hope's fading, my lightbulb just cracked.


I'll be back with the proper posting.
*crosses fingers*