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imagine
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in one case: where they were interfering
metaphor of marketplace
adequately separated public and private
strong principle of harm
Contest traditions
That was the waiter from the hotel
Captivating picture
Logical = Language
Poor saints, who are you?
Agile
Light doesn’t move because we tell it to. We move because of its shadows speaking through us. Shadows speak man’s hypostasis. Although our work distorts their angles and now they are speaking mummified advertisements instead of listening at the foot of Being. The shadows produced by neon lights make me wish for Oldenburg’s sculpture of a giant flashlight aimed into the ground. But still, we tell the light to ride us while some of our smartest dissidents ask what it would be like to ride it. What is it like for light to ride man? That is the hope for technology, but our greatest poems have all occurred while riding it.
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