T. Pynchon – Gravity’s Rainbow

Don’t forget the real business of war is buying and selling. The murdering and violence are self-policing, and can be entrusted to non-professionals. The mass nature of wartime death is useful in many ways. It serves as spectacle, as diversion from the real movements of the War. It provides raw material to be recorded into History, so that children may be taught History as sequences of violence, battle after battle, and be more prepared for the adult world. Best of all, mass death’s a stimulus to just ordinary folks, little fellows, to try ‘n’ grab a piece of that Pie while they’re still here to gobble it up. The true war is a celebration of markets.


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Are we monks or are we zombies?

Alright, this time I will be serious and write something that may be another step in explaining why this blog works the way it does. My goal is to argue if and why my doings might be consider a voice, one of many, in the much fragmeted chorus of contemporary art. In other words, I will focus on the question what kind of people with bigger names are doing something that resembes to some extend our quotes and pictures and those illustrated essays. But first, feel invited to listen to this hit by The Cure and keep it in the background.


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Foggy, foggy world (part 1)

nost2         #Nostalghia

I can’t imagine our world without fog in it. Much less the works of art that are full of clarity. Maybe that’s because fog is ever ambigious, unclear and touching. In our overstimulated lifes it’s a nature’s way of letting us have some peace of mind, separating us from the excess of the objects in the background. Imagination as well as Goya’s demons come into play, the scene is set just for them.

-> read on ->

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Escaping the form on a horse with Daft Punk

As I mentioned previously the Refined Quotes blog got to a place of a stagnation. Of course there are new meterial, new visits and new followers. Yet it all became too routine. It was meant to be a hunt for new ideas , however the creativity deminished slowly but steadily. In the end I’m only happy with the content and form of  the ‘about’ page, which is also a manifesto that I try to follow.

The beginning of this year was great, people started comming in, I’ve added the paintings, movie frames and later the songs. Eventually I got to a point where there was a standard alogrithm for me to use, with better or worse results in attention catching, nevertheless it became an effort, a fixed procedure. The very thing hated so much by people like Burroughs or Wallace, who I openly admire from post to post.

See? Mr. Burroughs is dismayed.

<read on for all the cool stuff!->

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T. Pynchon – Gravity’s Rainbow

Even at the cinema watching that awful Going My Way, the day they met, he saw every white straying of her ungauntleted hands, could feel in his skin each saccade of her olive, her amber, her coffee-colored eyes.

He’s wasted gallons of paint thinner striking his faithful Zippo, its charred wick, virility giving way to thrift, rationed down to a little stub, the blue flame sparking about the edges in the dark, the many kinds of dark, just to see what’s happening with her face.

Each new flame, a new face.

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