all those for whom
words have meaning, all those for whom the soul has its heights and
thought its currents, those who are the spirits of the times, and who
have given names to these currents of thought—I am thinking of their
specific tasks, and of that mechanical creaking their minds produce at
every gust of wind—are rubbish mongers.”― Antonin Artaud
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Rubbish = mongers
All writing is rubbish.People who try to free
themselves from what is vague in order to state precisely whatever is
going on in their minds are producing rubbish. The whole literary tribe is a pack of rubbish mongers, especially today.All those who have landmarks in their minds, I mean in a certain part
of their heads, in well-defined sites in their skulls, all those who are
masters of language,
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