keep your expectations low and i will rise to the occasion.
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Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Day 68
"Tattoo" by Todd Davis
Try telling the boy who’s just had his girlfriend’s name cut into his arm that there’s slippage between the signifier and the signified. Or better yet explain to the girl who watched in the mirror as the tattoo artist stitched the word for her father’s name (on earth as in heaven) across her back that words aren’t made of flesh and blood, that they don’t bite the skin. Language is the animal we’ve trained to pick up the scent of meaning. It’s why when the boy hears his father yelling at the door he sends the dog that he’s kept hungry, that he’s kicked, then loved, to attack the man, to show him that every word has a consequence, that language, when used right, hurts.
I'm back!
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I've decided to revive my little piece of cyberspace. I'm not sure how
long it's going to last or what will come of it but here it goes!
I've been thinkin...
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