The death of the author...?

La mort de l'auter.
(preliminaries of a larger essay i'm working on.... just my initial assessment)
Have you ever struggled with a book that you particularly didn’t see a point in reading, or found the verbiage of the book totally different from what you’re used to, or even found yourself asking if the plot is at all accessible? If you had, then Roland Barthes’ La Mort de l'Auteur is deceitful to say the least.
If I get what Barthes is getting across, then there’s a schizo-Balzac thing happening here: Balzac, the writer, who exists as a person (the ‘scriptur’), and Balzac the author—that voice you hear narrating a the text to you (the floating eyeball). The author, whom we usually assume we are conscious of when reading a story is, in Barthes' case, non-existent, or at least should not exist in terms of lit. criticism; he commands, “once the Author is removed, the claim to decipher a text becomes quite futile.” Consciousness of the writer distorts because the “book and author stand automatically on a single line divided into a before and an after” and this is problematic as “every text is eternally written here and now” by the reading public.
The “language speaks, not the author, through a prereq. impersonality,” rendering the writer as conveyer of a message in the performative act of using the mosaic of words, phrases, and semantics from their culture, and for Barthes’ thesis, the author is irrelevant because “a text’s unity lies not in its origin but in its destination.” Put that way, we have the Ecclesiastical claim that ideas are not original, and this is at the heart of the linguistic theory that looks only at the elemental matter of sentences, down to their basic abstract units: words.  With this reasoning, words exist in the aether as units of discourse while we wiggle through them ephemerally when we write. (I guess it’s kind of like breathing oxygen i.e. I’m no more special than anybody else for breathing. So writers are using words like we breathe; the text may be special, but not the ‘scriptur’). Semiotic rules viz. the "I" example of the signified and the signifier.

the operator of the funhouse is slumped in a plastic control booth that reeks of sensemilia

Getting into the DFW anthology now...slow going though, I have other obligations right now.

on hold...

...had to take down blog for a while, so the posts are reverted. We'll be back up soon.

tax debates

isn't paying political contributions more taxing than paying taxes??

Are you really that into him??

~Butterflies have fleeting lives...and so do relationships.
~But the residual lies stain hearts forever.~
No Homo
........................................................
A few years back, when I was a somewhat ardent church goer. I eventually met a ladyfriend that I was really feeling.
I mean, I did the commendable thing right? Go to church and find a woman lol.We spent mad time together, and realized we enjoyed each other's company. It was at this time of preamble that she informed me of a guy she was seeing.
Disappointed as I was, I still settled for friendship. B/c like I said, I was really feelin O'girl. She was a fly-independent sistah. She struck me as a tender and caring person, as nice as people come. But my cause for concern came to be the relationship with her so-called boyfriend. It turned out that i knew who this fella was and he knew me well, albeit he did not know I was close to said woman. The problem was, this guy had a family that we all knew he'd been living with. He acutally lived with his fiance' and children. Mainwhile he's got my girl stringing along in his palms as his side dish, while She was deluded into thinking that she's the entree.


I feel bad now for not telling her what I knew. But back then I thought nothing could've changed the way she felt for this guy. That even if I had told her, she'd still not have showed great concern as he continued to invent new lies for her. Though i showed signs of admonishment, she was headstrong in her "love" for this man. I informed her that though we were not intimate on that level I still saw more of her than her so-called man ever did. She claimed it's b/c he's hard working. Right. Implying that i'm not hard working enough. I also went further and advised her that him always postponing planned events b/t them is just a sign of his playerism. She brushed that off too: "...dates are not that important as long as I have him." But do you really? That was where my morals were torn, I didn't know if I should tell her or not. No, I honestly didn't know what was the right thing to do.

It's kind of retarded!!!

As a matter-of-fact I think it is retarded as hell to be so pretentious as to want to win every argument. Sometimes you can concede a point for the benefit of the doubt. But I fear any such relationship (friendship, dating, etc) in which one individual has to completely have a last say on any differential situation. These people are just corny as shit. Like an ex of mine arguing with my cousin over something as dumb as a comment made (explicitly innapropriate......and...) and letting the whole thing fuck up her day. Now that chick is crazy all across the board. Although this blog is sparked because of something different, it ended up reminding me of that crazy ass chick. I mean, ma has managed to fuck up and taint any good thing that come in her life. She's supposed to be one of the most pure things to have happened to human kind, but somewhere her still nascent mind drasticated in such narcissism that anything and anyone must be below her. You know people that play those games, where they are thrillied that they are giving you hell, just for the hell of it. One of them player chicks that love the drama and melancholy. She can't live without melancholy. She fucking patronizes shit with her euphemisms, or aggravates a situation with her craziness. I mean crazy as shit!!!! You wouldn't understand.


Dictys

"Now I wonder how What's her name has been..."


Last week was the week that kept giving. I found a little procedure that got me out of a little wrap i was in and i'm able to come out on tizzop. Just to enumerate the point a little more, this picture is of Torino Italy. Well, in the Martin bldg theres a much better, up-close picture of Torino. I usually notice those things, but this whole semester of walking by said frame, I haven't noticed it, until last Friday atleast, where I stood, paused and settled my thoughts on doin a semester there. That extols my head is a little clearer now/ stress free (i can wonder thoughtlessly). I subsequently took a drive down College Park looking for that elusive Indian restaurant that TA Septugat told me about. Still can't find it, settled for ihop cornbeef hash and toast. But, more importantly, I saw what's-her-name on fb lastweek-as if she hadn't been there all along-and decided to msg her. She responded and we talked a little. That was cool. Umm.... Final exams:::
But to reiterate, last week was nice for various reasons. The school issues that worked out and my new housing location, and schedule for nxt smstr all made the week great. As I continued to unpack I kept finding (lost) valuables, this time, the pics of me in a blazer (rare occasion, looking decent) that whats-her-name gave me, so I post them on fb.

So it's all cheese, well except, a friend of mine is experiencing strife at her job, an ill situation really. That may dampen things. And this blog may have to be edited, i'm half-asleep but can't really sleep an't know why, maybe test excitement/anxiety.

But anyways. talking to what's-her-name (though just thru text mails) felt good!!!