Liam Porter

“Enough already of Lacan, Derrida, and Foucault poured like ketchup over everything. Lacan: the French fog machine; a grey-flannel worry-bone for toothless academic pups; a twerpy, cape-twirling Dracula dragging his flocking stooges to the crypt. Lacan is a Freud T-shirt shrunk down to the teeny-weeny Saussure torso. The entire school of Saussure, inluding Levi-Strauss, write their muffled prose of people with cotton wool wrapped around their heads; they're like walking Q-tips. Derrida: a Gloomy Gus one-trick pony, stuck on a rhetorical trope already available in the varied armory of New Criticism. Derrida's method: masturbating without pleasure. It's a birdbrain game for birdseed stakes. Neo-Foucaldian New Historicism: a high-wax bowling alley where you score points just by knockng down the pins.”
― Camille Paglia, Sex, Art, and American Culture: Essays

“I visit the orchards of God and look at the spheric product
And look at quintillions ripened, and look at quintillions green.”
― Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

“Quoi, c'était à cette chévite créature que ses pareils et lui obéssaient depuis des siècles ? Alors qu'un temps de galop suffisait à le distancer, une morsure à le mutiler, une ruade à l'étendre mort ! Sans le cuir et le fer, qu'est-ce que l'homme ?”
― Gilbert Cesbron, Tout dort et je veille

“I think the notion that the species can be improved in some way, that everyone could live in harmony, is a really dangerous idea. Those who are afflicted with this notion are the first ones to give up their souls, their freedom. Your desire that it be that way will enslave you and make your life vacuous.”
― Cormac McCarthy