I went to renew my poetic license today, but they said first I need to do an I exam

 

Dali, by being dali, was in himself a revolution of one man, a tsunami of
pure inhibited strangeness
and peculiar mannerism.  Dali created himself in his own image.

     
 

 

You cant sell news stories that have data and cautious predictions. Where is the panic? Where is the impending doom? C'mon people , give me something to work with here…

    Opinions / Science / Theory of Relative Ignorance  
 

..and as I was a yuppy marketing and advertising executive for the better part
of a decade, I am not really impressed with stories of selling your soul to the devil...

    Art & Culture / Music / Blues / Robert Johnson  
Paul Auster


Dozens of research papers and dissertations were based on Paul Auster's work, trying to place the finger on the exact philosopher who influenced him most in his literary masterpieces.  When was asked about it Auster said he doesn’t know, he did try to look into some of these philosophers they mention but found them completely 'unreadable'. And that is Paul Auster in a nutshell.

 

... he learned never to trust anyone. Not even himself. Someone would always come along to prove that what he thought was wrong, that it did not count for anything. He learned never to want anything too much."

 

Paul Auster was the kind of author which made you feel bad and it felt good. Every time I got a Paul Auster book I had mixed feelings, that blend of excitement and curiosity and that fatal doom impending feeling of oh-my-god-I-have-to-read-another-Paul-Auster-Book . It was never an easy task and rarely a pleasant experience but I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

 
It was a wrong number that started it, the telephone ringing three times in the dead of night, and the voice on the other end asking for someone he was not.
 

There are writers who invent worlds, some funny, some thrilling, and most of them do a pretty good job at it. Paul Auster does not invent any new worlds, he is talking about your world, our world, but suddenly seen from a completely different perspective, a new point of view, and that is extremely disturbing. Extremely.

In the end, each life is no more than the sum of contingent facts, a chronicle of chance intersections, of flukes, of random events that divulge nothing but their own lack of purpose.

The reason Paul Auster is able to do that party trick of deconstructing your world and replacing the distorting mirror we usually use with a real one, or vice versa, is the same reason people think he was influenced by all these dead philosophers is that like them he understands. He got it. Without letting us know, hiding it under the guise of almost normal stories, he is playing with the chords of our being.

 
“We construct a narrative for ourselves, and that's the thread that we follow from one day to the next. People who disintegrate as personalities are the ones who lose that thread.”
 

In each and every one of his books you can see that he definitely knows how the world works, how we work, how our mind works. The reason it is disturbing is because you can feel him there, inside your brain, playing around, planting possibilities, twisting belief systems, jerking and pulling your switches pushing your buttons.
A very unpleasant experience if I may say so myself.
Oh how I enjoyed it.

 

Everything can change at any moment, suddenly and forever.

 

But it wasn’t all doom, failure and disillusioned world views, no, the strange thing is that Auster managed to be almost optimistic about it all, and if not optimistic at least stoic or accepting. Surprisingly enough, that was even more disturbing.

 
There's hope for everyone. That's what makes the world go round.
 

I see Paul Auster as the American Tolstoi, with all the good and bad that comes with such a heavy title. They were both masters of the human spirit drawing a perfect blueplan to our psyche and then poking all the right places to make it dance.

Reach a certain moment in your life, and you discover that your days are spent as much with the dead as they are with the living.
One day, if I ever feel strong enough, I will read again "the new York trilogy" but for now I will just let it stay there on the shelf. Sometimes I feel it is watching me. It knows I will open it again. It does. Very disturbing. Very.

 

If you're not ready for everything, you're not ready for anything.