A Critical Lyric Essay On Postmodern Ontology From A Garrotted Pseudo-Intellectual

If the voice imitator cannot use his own voice, then this raises a question about his final reply: Whose voice did he use?
If the voice imitator cannot use his own voice, then this raises a question about his final reply: Whose voice did he use?
In hindsight, the 19th century, with its far-flung outposts of colonial power and its scientific expeditions deep into the Conradian jungles of empire, looks like a golden age of exotic contagions, tumors, abscesses, and other morbid curiosities, not to mention…
You are going to run your mouth about philosophy and retributively annoy your entire family by talking about things they are too embarrassed to admit they don’t understand.
At home, I called Gary, who said he spent the weekend “on the hunt” — for girls. I read some Wordsworth and Poli Sci stuff and watched ‘Jude the Obscure’ on ‘Masterpiece Theatre.’
To the stoic sitter, this is how one does it. True, I am not the happiest or most well-adjusted person in the world, but I do have reason on my side. Goodbye burrito, goodbye Pad Thai, says the polite rationalist.
When I was a kid, I was overwhelmed by the concept of infinity. I’d lie in bed at night, in the dark, and try to picture the infinity of space, each limit in my mind giving way giving way giving way until I achieved a kind of vertigo and my skinny little body would tremble as if in orgasm, a conceptual tantra. It was exquisite.
More than just the preeminent commentator on the social role and cultural politics of graphic design in contemporary culture, the English cultural critic Rick Poynor is our most reliable dashboard navigator through the visual landscape, a politically astute, historically literate GPS plotting our course through the forest of signs.