Saturday, June 20, 2015


Thou hast commanded all men, so to love me, as to lay down their lives for my peace and welfare. There's a moment when speech enters the fitting room, slips out of its quotations, and recovers the mirror stage in quadruple form. His command becomes mine, as my clothes become me. We're seeing the misfit room, where a boy poses for his own shots, then shoots parishioners while parroting sentences he couldn't invent. Appropriation's a buzz word, buzz saw: you can escape maximum security with a saw, but you can't repeat what I said without the ear's panopticon rehearsing it. It's what gives narcissism a bad name, this self-hatred suited up as echo chamber. They did as you asked: the rest passeth all understanding.

--20 June 201

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