If 'proceeding toward the external is nothing but a fabrication,' one can only stop here and erode it from within. I learned that from Philippe Garrel.
- Jean-Luc Godard
In films, what is important is the point where the film no longer has an auteur, where it has no more actors, no more story even, no more subject, nothing but the film itself speaking and saying something that can’t be translated: the point where it becomes the discourse of someone or something else, which cannot be said, precisely because it is beyond expression.
- Jacques Rivette
Les hautes solitudes (Phillipe Garrel, 1974)
I went to the sit-in
And there was nobody there
But there I alas sat
And as I sat I began to see that
The tide pulls out
The rubbish along with;
Dear darling inkling of an inchworm
Soon it shall be my bless'd turn.
Merely because it is our duty to adhere to the governing protocols and precautions which are what they are and is what they is, upon admission we did politely ask the little black bat (seen in the photograph directly above)—chipper and cooperative, it must be said—if he has or has come into contact with anyone, ahem, who has or might have the emergent novel coronavirus that's got folks freaked out, at which point the bat became even more animated, shouting declaratively that he never drinks Mexican beer and that he cannot stand that stuff.
10th Ave SW
Nico, "Janitor of Lunacy"
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