Sitting in Laurent’s kitchen over an old farmhouse table he’s trying to describe what Capon means, the castrated cock he cooked the last time we were here in Metz around Christmas, and when he says castrated cock he suddenly looks… Read More ›
Edvard Munch
Let’s pretend we’re blind
I get lost in the canal side streets as I knew I would and lose track of the names, but recognise a jar of olives in a store front window and remember it was on my left before, and stop to turn… Read More ›
I’d rather be wrong: a short rant on the difference between nihilism and existentialism
It’s late, I’ve had too much beer, and my 23 year-old cousin wants to show me his favorite YouTube video and talk about the meaning of life. The video is by a band called Mr. Bungle: manic, circus music, the… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 