hesitant aranta



depicted

[foto de ºCHiViSº--flickr]

incoming
Nicomachean Ethics//Aristotle
Eudemian Ethics//Aristotle
Poetics//Aristotle
De Anima//Aristotle
Cause, Necessity and Blame//Richard Sorabji
The Fragility of Goodness//Martha C. Nussbaum
Essays on Aristotle's Ethics//Amelie Rorty (editor)
Aristotle's Theory of Action//David Charles
Aristotle on Moral Responsibility//Susan S. Meyer
The Fabric of Character//Nancy Sherman
Choosing Character//Jonathan Jacobs
Aristotle's Psychology//Daniel N. Robinson

Volta//Björk
Medùlla//Björk
Vespertine//Björk
Vespertine Live at the Royal Opera House//Björk

Carbon Monoxide//Marlboro Reds
caffeine in not so large ammounts

a whole lotta love

secondary bibliography

overt influences
straying

[...]
Wie ich mechanisch eine neue Zigarrette drehe und die braunen Stäubchen mit feinem Prickeln auf das weißgelbe Löschpapier der Schreibmappe niedertaumeln, will es mir unwarscheinlich werden, daß ich noch wache. Und wie die feuchtwarme Abendluft, die durch das offene Fenster neben mir hereingeht, die Rauchwölkchen so seltsam formt und aus dem Bereich der grünbeschirmten Lampe ins Mattschwarze trägt, steht es mir fest, daß ich schon träume.
Da wird's natürlich schon ganz arg; denn diese Meinung wirft der Phantasie die Zügel auf den Rücken. Hinter mir knackt heimlich neckend die Stuhllehne, daß es mir jäh wie hastiger Schauder durch alle Nerven fährt. Das stört mich ärgerlich in meinem tiefsinnigen Studium der Bizarren Rauchschriftzeichen, die im mich irren, und über die einen Leitfaden zu ferfassen ich bereits entschlossen war.
Aber nun ist die Ruhe zum Teufel. Tolle Bewegung in allen Sinnen. Fiebrisch, nervös, wahnsinnig. Jeder Laut keift. Und mit all dem verwirrt steigt Vergessenes auf. Einst dem Sehsinn Eingeprägtes, das sich seltsam erneut; mit dem Fühlen dazu von damals. [...] Vision. Proza-Skizze//Thomas Mann.


past utterances
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25.10.04

:: knots ::
i remember having read a story once about a little blond girl with pearl-white skin and a black dress, it told about the bottle-green velvet lace around her neck.__it used to bother me that nothing about a button or a knot was mentioned, nothing about the means by which it stayed in its place throughout day and night and day; i felt amused and yet somehow discomforted by the lack of explanation given to the fact that that little piece of cloth maintained unison or unicity in the physical structure of such a creature.__ now, however, i find it not to be a problem for so many things remain unexplained and are in a way dependent of that particular nature; i must not search for the ultimate answer to the simpleness of some "happenings" in order to keep what little sign of sanity i may still have, there certainly is no need for struggle in what appears obvious.__what kind of bondage there may be between things that are naturally or necessarily together is not the thing to be in search of, not, at least, for the time come; but that alone does not seem to be enough to keep me from puzzling, it does not bring peace to my mind or comfort, rather it brings the terrible frustration of realizing that i am not one to know, or pretend to do so, things that escape the grasp of mere sight.__once she took it off, her head fell straight to the floor and everyone knew what purpose the little bottle-green velvet lace was serving, but the recognition of that purpose gave no information about the way or mechanisms put together in order to fulfill it, nothing was gained, nothing was lost.
coming in through my ears:: philosophical (?) discussions in the room next door