Strolled past my old alma mater today (École Normale Supérieure) and gave the entire school the bird. A big angry middle finger! Childish, but it felt really good. Up yours, ENS!
Wow. I'm sort surprised that you're still so pissed off at that place.
Well, for one, it's an institution—so right there I don't like it.
As your psychiatrist, I have to say I think it's more than that!
Memories: not being popular. That hurt.
Popularity is overrated. Believe me, I'm really popular (not in France), but it's not all that.
Tell that to Sartre—the guy had 50,000 attendees at his funeral. That's like a royal wedding. LOL!
Shout out for California!
That place is full of bourgeoisie. Have you been to Rodeo Drive? Have you seen the prison industrial complex there? You need to stop vacationing and start visiting places where people are under the heel of the man—like Cuba and the Soviet Union.
JP—you are a state lover. I am a lover of man (and men), and you and I both enjoy a little loving, so stop being so bossy. FYI: you secretly worship the master by allowing the text to be so authoritative. Get a grip, JP!
Well, you love the masters, too, Michel, but in a pervy way.
The very fact that you use the term "pervy" indicates that you believe there is healthy and unhealthy sexuality. You are part of the problem.
Well, you allow yourself to be the Other by surrendering to domination.
You just don't get S&M. Yes, I happily yield to domination and find pleasure in allowing my body to be controlled. You, on the other hand, blush when you see a nun's ankle.
Call me when you are no longer an object.
Promoting my friend's production of Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot. Am hoping he can get a lot of likes, so check it out!
Seems really unphenomenological. Don't get why you "like" that play so much! Give me River Dance any time.
How about Cirque de Soleil? Love! You don't get more of a spectacle than that!
JB: Not really into the whole "visual pleasure" and distraction thing. Waiting for Godot altered my whole view of life. It rocked the world—as much as Sartre's whole existentialism trend.
I'm with Michel about that play. It's just a dramatic interpretation of Heidegger. How can it go wrong? Idea for your next book, Michel: Waiting for Foucault? Cute, eh?
For sure, big like on that one. One last plug: Waiting validated my suspicion that moral values are never reachable. Heck, we can't even talk about truth. And that is precisely the problem! Waiting gets real about that anguish, and I'm the first toadmit that that torment made me feel alive—but that's just my thing.