Maker and musician. Interested in economics, politics, society, culture, art, and theory.

Gen X working class aging punk. USian. Dialectical & Critical.

Scleral buckle. Homestead. Sustainability. Social contract. Zen. Mountain living. Human rights. Spectacle.

I try to read a book a week.

Not interested in violence, faith, chauvinism, or bullshit.

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Joined 4 months ago
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Cake day: September 26th, 2025

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  • monocles@lemmy.mltoBooks@lemmy.mlKafka Inc.
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    6 days ago

    What remains of the dying population of Cambodia? One large photograph of an American actress holding an Asian child in her arms. What remains of Tomas? An inscription reading: “He wanted the Kingdom of God on Earth.” What remains of Beethoven? A frown, an improbable mane, and a somber voice intoning “Es muss sein!” What remains of Franz? An inscription reading: “A return after long wanderings.” And so on and so forth. Before we are forgotten, we will be turned into kitsch. Kitsch is the stopover between being and oblivion.

     -Milan Kundera
    


  • Preface: I live in a rural area. Indoor outdoor cats. They will sleep in the bed sometimes. They also bring in snakes, sometimes. I have found snakes in the bed. And in my shoes.

    But for the real mischief story, they also brought in a baby bunny. It was already dead, and not in the bed, thank goodness. They left it on the carpet in the bedroom. Problem is rabbits out here have fleas. Young ones are no exception. I spent 2 months getting rid of those stupid fleas. Powders, pet treatment, diatomaceous earth, the whole thing. Now I try to be a little more vigilant watching what they bring in the cat door.