Temele deocheate ale timpului nostru. Front Cover. Luca Pitu. Paralela, – pages Author, Luca Pitu. Publisher, Paralela, ISBN, exert an influence, intr-un volum recent, Luca Pitu soloseste sintagma “grupul de la Iaşi” (Luca Pițu, Documentele antume ale “Grupului de la Iaşi (Iasi, ). Read 50 publications, and contact Luca Canetta on ResearchGate, the École Polytechnique Fédérale de Lausanne. A.F. Pitu. Politecnico di Milano. Projects.

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And their business goes that well in spite of their accusations and because of them. Coito, ergo sum Luca Pitu disait-il, quoi? Gott ist tot – what’s to be done?

Temele deocheate ale timpului nostru – Luca Pitu – Google Books

The land before god chests the avantgarde’s spear. You can’t tell what’s going on in Magritte’s paintings, can’t make stories out of them.

The only way to narrativize them is to tell the story of your own interpretation of Magritte’s paintings. All these are stories about how we can’t make stories. Time is devoid of events, a pure time, at the antipodes of Kant’s a priori – insofar as it is obtained by incontrolable syntheses: Moly’s true and Moly’s blue, she brings relief against inhuman metamorphosis, she’s blue all the way down.

But easy going Moly does not pay rent in Atlantiquity this hints to what you know about Atlantiquity, to which I can’t attend verbally ; she’s before that, between you and that remote improbability which is the land of the avantgarde: Blue Moly in improbable fields. Then lua push hardships.

Simone Boué, Emil Cioran, Luca Pitu

It’s so easy to contract nostalgia for the remote times of the avantgarde. Unless you hide – under the crimson moving wounds or under the clean sheet of freckled skin – the scars with which history has marked you, you’ll be in the arrieregarde of the avantgarde. They’re all mad in their crave for purity; on top of, avantgarde is crazy. Fearful angels, sweetened by syphilistines: Their phenomenology builds a secure bracketing out of my own taste – not the taste-already-in-statement, the judgement – but the felt taste, the substantial basis of the statement that falsifies its ground.

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Taste as a faculty – like imagination or memory – is that which lacks in the process of cutting phenomenological ways through kitsch.

Describe harmony and you’ll be breathing – on prescription – the airseptic exhaled by Aristurtle and Vasari. Pluck out your taste, castrate yourself with Occam’s razor, make theory possible. But don’t make it desirable, for it’s already possible – make a gewgaw out of yourself. The kitsch object devours the surroundings: It buries experience in velvet coffins not to be open – no one should open that canned void.

From the outside, taste tastes its own burial. Nature knows better than kitsch and what she does not know better, she forgets ; it simply lacks this possibility – no color combination, no shapes in nature are kitsch. It is taste that which bring naturaleness in the higher states of contemplation and the subject to the understanding of its nature. There is no way back from kitsch. It is naked force tamed by numbers.

Simone Boué, Emil Cioran, Luca Pitu | napalmtop | Flickr

Kitsch is the heroin and heroism of the masses. We’re bullies of bliss, we don’t murmur, we state.

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Who’s there to weep it? Il nous faut deux guerres, et, puis, kuca Daguerre, pour nous en sortir. Idyllique dieu, ce theos-telos de la technique.

However, gadgets are too artificial the most artificial, to be precise, to ;itu found or lost under this sky to be recyclable. Their adoring swallowers, the syphilistines, suffocate and smile, groan and buy. Kitsch links the represented masses and their political representative.

It tames, ptiu brings the quiet the one sought afterand happiness in the heart of the syphilistines and delivers them to their elected leaders. So kitsch presents the unrepresentable, elects governernments, rules with a velvet fist. This wind sweeps concentration way: The latter is peripheral to the former.

It can be perceived in a corner or on a shelf, conveniently far away. You live a kind of quiet knowing that it is there, whatever may happen to this exhausting, cruel, and cold world.

Kitsch engineers the distance it has to be perceived from, together with the continuous attraction it exerts, that gently undermines that distance. For the syphilistine, the kitsch object is an lucs sign which protects him from himself, a symbol of gentle possession.

As a matter of taste, the global’s split between the hyperreal Atlantiquity and the syphilistine infrareal. Taste hyperhates the many. Indeed, why would you?

Your transparent your self Narcisse, m’a b ime Publications: Your transparent your self Narcisse, m’a b ime.