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Category Archives: Life as a teabag

Outside story

Another story is possible. But the persistence of the anthropocentric gaze, the reprise of language’s triumph, is not what excites me. What excites me is what happens when we encounter that which cannot be said, or mapped, or represented in concepts, or reflected upon, or owned: the orgasmic gasp of the inhuman. The space between …Continue Reading >>>

Falling might very well be flying – without the tyranny of coordinates.