Language is an open ended and visceral affair with no lack of blood and guts. The exchange of this mess must necessarily happen by mail, by post. We are sent, we send one another, we send ourselves in a mailbox filled with our ink, both written and secreted (and kept secret). In writing and sending ourselves, we inevitably obscure ourselves. It's messy but its ours. Language is alive and as we write, we notice how, regardless of whether it is spoken or written, it is the study of zoology. The question remains, however, whether we can ever classify this animal.
Language is an open ended and visceral affair with no lack of blood and guts. The exchange of this mess must necessarily happen by mail, by post. We are sent, we send one another, we send ourselves in a mailbox filled with our ink, both written and secreted (and kept secret). In writing and sending ourselves, we inevitably obscure ourselves. It's messy but its ours. Language is alive and as we write, we notice how, regardless of whether it is spoken or written, it is the study of zoology. The question remains, however, whether we can ever classify this animal.
perfection.
perfection.