“But above all let there be pleasure. Let there be textural delight, let there be silken words and flinty words and sodden speeches and soaking speeches and crackling utterance and utterance that quivers and wobbles like rennet. Let there be rapid firecracker phrases and language that oozes like a lake of lava. Words are your birthright. Unlike music, painting, dance and raffia work, you don’t have to be taught any part of language or buy any equipment to use it, all the power of it was in you from the moment the head of daddy’s little wiggler fused with the wall of mummy’s little bubble. So if you’ve got it, use it. Don’t be afraid of it, don’t believe it belongs to anyone else, don’t let anyone bully you into believing that there are rules and secrets of grammar and verbal deployment that you are not privy to. Don’t be humiliated by dinosaurs into thinking yourself inferior because you can’t spell broccoli or moccasins. Just let the words fly from your lips and your pen. Give them rhythm and depth and height and silliness. Give them filth and form and noble stupidity. Words are free and all words, light and frothy, firm and sculpted as they may be, bear the history of their passage from lip to lip over thousands of years. How they feel to us now tells us whole stories of our ancestors.”—Stephen Fry (via wine-loving-vagabond)
“• Sex doesn’t have to mean marriage, children, or even I love you.
• Sex can be right this minute or next year some time. You get to decide. And you get to change your mind about that whenever you want to.
• Sex can be a passionless quickie.
• Sex can be any way you imagine it can be. Sex doesn’t have to be any way you don’t want it to be.
• Sex doesn’t have to be with one person all the time or even with one person at a time. Sex doesn’t have to be with anyone but yourself. You get to control the guest list.
• Sex doesn’t have to happen with anyone of the same race, religion, gender, age, class, education level or body type as you.
• And sex doesn’t have to be for free. You can buy, sell, or trade sex for things if you need and want to do that.
• Sex doesn’t mean you’re a slut or a whore, unless of course that’s what you’d like to be.
• Sex doesn’t have to be genital and you don’t have to do it in private.
• Sex doesn’t have to end with an orgasm for everyone.
• During sex, you can be any gender, age, race, class, animal, object or alien life-form that you’d like to be as long as you both or all agree that’s what you’re safely being together.
• Sex doesn’t have to be in the missionary position.
• Sex doesn’t have to happen on the bed in a bedroom in the dark.
• Sex can be really yummy, sick-o, gross, painful, scary, bloody and/or degrading when you all or both agree to do it that way safely and respectfully together.
• Sex can be hilariously funny.
• Sex can be a lovely gift you give someone or someone gives you.
• Sex can be a blessing, a prayer, and a generous act of healing.
• Sex can involve costumes, props and a script.”—(excerpt from Hello Cruel World)
“Books hold most of the secrets of the world, most of the thoughts that men and women have had. And when you are reading a book, you and the author are alone together—-just the two of you.”—E.B. White (via seewhatisay)
French anthropologist Chombart de Lauwe inspired the idea of the “dérive.”
In 1952, de Lauwe set out to document the narrowness of the typical Parisian life. To do this, he diagrammed the movements of one student over the course of an entire year. The student’s daily routine formed a triangle, with three points representing the student’s university, piano teacher, and home.
Disturbed by de Lauwe’s findings, which expose the limited scope of the individual’s movements, Guy Debord developed the concept of the “dérive” meaning a “drifting” or “wandering” experience of the city. He explains, “In a dérive one or more persons during a certain period drop their relations, their work and leisure activities, and all their other usual motives for movement and action, and let themselves be drawn by the attractions of the terrain and the encounters they find there.” The Dérivateur aims to provide a similar digression from the daily grind, unsettling the automatism of urban experience.