Monday, 14 March 2011

The Phenomenon of the Future

The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel.

Gibson / Neuromancer

Over the world as it ends in decrepitude is a pale sky that may perhaps dissipate with the clouds - streaks of used sunsets that bleed into the dormant waters of a river, submerged beneath rays and drops. The trees are bored, and beneath their whitened foliage [whitened by the dust of time, not by the dust of roads], rises the tent of the Revealer of Things Past…
Mallarme / Divagations / 11

The sky is thin as paper here.
Burroughs / Cities of the Red Night

The narrow staircase pushes me into the attic where the wall paper is loose. There are no images because the room is itself an image.
The yellow-orange cloth wrapping the skylight seems to hold a fallen sun; a softly illuminating sun of about one meter diameter, flat like a coin. I sweat and dream, washed up on a cold beach at midday.

A screaming comes across the sky. It has happened before, but there is nothing to compare it to now.

Pynchon / Gravity's RAINBOW

‘The sea had receded and the ground was grey and brownish like the sky. Abstraction grey. Calmly, intensely, hopelessly, the ultimate abstraction took hold of me.’ It seems to me that the ‘abstraction grey’, which recalls Hegel’s ‘grey on grey’ of theory, is the place to begin not so much thinking the ‘future’ as thinking the present.

noys/ beradi 

"When philosophy paints its grey on grey, then has a shape of life grown old. By philosophy's grey on grey it cannot be rejuvenated but only understood. The owl of Minerva spreads its wings only with the falling of the dusk." Philosophy of Right ( (1821), translated by T. M. Knox, (1952)) p. 13 

The sky had lifted at least thirty feet.
I sat there, not moving. The shock must have cracked the
pavement, my right hand fumbled in the rubble. As I breathed,
the silence stilled the explosion of stars whose sparks still
crackled in my head. The white lines in the pavement showed
dimly in the darkness: my hand left the ground, felt up my left
arm, up to my shoulder, back down my ribs to my hips: noth-
ing, I was intact, I could go on.
I stood up. Falling flat on my face, sprawled out like a cross, I
remembered that I had forgotten to check over my legs as well.

ASTRAGAL /sarrazin

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