Monday, January 23, 2012
In truth, the more he is an artist, the more he seeks aid in Chance but ultimately domesticates it, directs it, and solicits it; but he also makes choices within it, accepts it but rejects some of it.
— Umberto Eco, “The Form of Disorder,” Pidgin Magazine Issue 9
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Some places are like people.
— Dick Hallorann, The Shining
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Sexiled
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Friday, January 20, 2012
What is most important, however, is that none of them can lay claim to stand as the referent primitive.
— Jeffrey Kipnis, “A Family Affair”
Thursday, January 19, 2012
There’s no lack of void.
— Rem Koolhaas, S,M,L,XL
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Annyong.
— Annyong, Arrested Development
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Gossip was architecture.
— Bernard Tschumi, Architecture and Disjunction
Monday, January 16, 2012
You can also think through it.
— Bernard Tschumi, Architecture and Disjunction
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Any cause-and-effect relationship between form, use, function, and socioeconomic structure has become both impossible and obsolete.
— Bernard Tschumi, Architecture and Disjunction
Saturday, January 14, 2012
I’m always waiting in shadows.
— Cold War Kids, “Royal Blue”
Friday, January 13, 2012
A bar of sulfur in the drawer of a mahogany desk?
— Jorge Luis Borges, “The Witness”
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Repetition properly so called is recollected forwards.
— Søren Kierkegaard via The Anxiety of Influence
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
A few words attributed by a Persian bookseller to Al-Mu'tasim are perhaps an expansion of words spoken by the hero; that and other ambiguous similarities may signal the identity of the seeker and the sought; they may also signal that the sought has already influenced the seeker.
— Jorge Luis Borges, “The Approach to Al-Mu'tasim”
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Horizontal connections.
— Stan Alan
Monday, January 9, 2012
Secretly the avenues were circles.
— Jorge Luis Borges, “Parable of the Palace”
Sunday, January 8, 2012
I tried, in my darkness, to remember everything I knew.
— Jorge Luis Borges, “The Writing of the God”
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Well if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go on an overnight drunk, and in 10 days I’m going to set out to find the shark that ate my friend and destroy it. Anyone that would care to join me is more than welcome.
— Steve Zissou, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou
Friday, January 6, 2012
Imagine a modern descendent of Piranesi with a summer job for AT&T, sent off alone with a truck, a tent, and some wire-testing equipment to explore abandoned villages in the mountains, on the hunt for internets he must single-handedly reawaken.
— BLDGBLOG, “Remnant Infrastructure”
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Will we ever be able to understand the vision of the artists across such an abyss of time? There is an aura of melodram in this landscape… could this be our connection to them? This staging of landscape as an operatic event does not belong to the romanticists alone.
— Werner Herzog, Cave of Forgotten Dreams
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
I was then taken east, in a cage. I was taken to Toronto. Then Philadelphia. And then to New York. And each time I arrived at another city, somehow the white men had moved all their people there ahead of me. Each new city contained the same white people as the last, and I could not understand how a whole city of people could be moved so quickly.
— Nobody, Dead Man
