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antriebsfulligkeit · 1 year
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undertale and spec ops the line have faced some of the most annoying backlash ive ever seen from people who read imaginary didactic takeaways into the text and then got mad at them
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antriebsfulligkeit · 1 year
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going to work 😌
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antriebsfulligkeit · 1 year
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antriebsfulligkeit · 2 years
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Roland Barthes, A Lover’s Discourse: Fragments
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antriebsfulligkeit · 2 years
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new favorite marcus aurelius quote is the one where he's like "no matter how good of a person you are there will still be people who are happy you died" like thank you marcus i feel better now
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antriebsfulligkeit · 2 years
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this man won the goncours and then just
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antriebsfulligkeit · 2 years
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antriebsfulligkeit · 2 years
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antriebsfulligkeit · 2 years
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antriebsfulligkeit · 2 years
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antriebsfulligkeit · 2 years
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antriebsfulligkeit · 2 years
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antriebsfulligkeit · 3 years
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antriebsfulligkeit · 3 years
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barthes dont call me out like this wtf
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antriebsfulligkeit · 3 years
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enormous documentation
Roland Barthes, A Lover’s Discourse
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antriebsfulligkeit · 3 years
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so into whatever the fuck barthes is talking about
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antriebsfulligkeit · 4 years
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Having had the experience of writing a couple of novels which have reached a few million readers, I have become familiar with an extraordinary phenomenon. For the first few tens of thousands of copies (the figure may vary from country to country), readers generally know perfectly well about this fictional agreement [ie. the suspension of disbelief]. Afterward, and certainly beyond the first-million mark, you get into a no-man’s-land where one can no longer be sure that readers know about it.
In Chapter 115 of my book Foucault’s Pendulum the character called Casaubon, on the night of the twenty-third to the twenty-fourth of June 1984, after attending an occultist ceremony at the Conservatoire des Arts et Métiers in Paris, walks, as if possessed, along the entire length of the rue Saint-Martin, crosses the rue aux Ours, passes the Centre Beaubourg, and arrives at Saint-Merry Church. Afterward he continues along various streets, all of them named, until he gets to the place des Vosges. In order to write this chapter I walked the same route on several different nights, carrying a tape recorder, taking notes on what I could see and the impressions I had.
Indeed, since I have a computer program which can show me what the sky looks like at any time in any year, at whatever longitude or latitude, I even went so far as to find out if there had been a moon that night, and what position it occupied in the sky at various times. I did this not because I wanted to emulate Emile Zola’s realism, but because I like to have the scene I’m writing about in front of me while I narrate; it makes me more familiar with what’s happening and helps me get inside the characters.
After publishing the novel, I received a letter from a man who had evidently gone to the Bibliothéque Nationale to read all the newspapers from June 24, 1984. He had discovered that on the corner of the rue Réaumur (which I hadn’t actually named but which does cross the rue Saint-Martin at a certain point), after midnight, more or less at the time Casaubon passed by, there had been a fire—and a big fire at that, if the papers had talked about it. The reader asked me how Casaubon had managed not to see it.
Umberto Eco, Six Walks in the Fictional Woods
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