The Second is a desperate act, motivated to disprove the miracle of the First whose creation sits isolated in its uniqueness. With the Second, the First’s success is both imitated and avoided. Most intimate with the somatic void, the Second causes contortions: choking loses its ability to satisfy; no amount of bloating or masturbation can calm. And soon the affinity with wood begins; the knock which wood emits parallels the same grief consequently experienced by the act. Rolling pins, spoons, chopping boards, and pencils, are collected then swallowed, where they remain for days inside the gullet of the acting absentee.
The Second is always darker and misshapen. The Third is yellow, too thin, shivering. The Fourth is forgotten. But by the Fifth, what was unique to the First has been reclaimed and matured. Production continues in monochrome until the Twentieth where rigidity is inevitable, indicating a necessary conclusion: a set has been achieved.
In times of further desperation, the set’s success inspires a sequel. But the set’s style was developed through a partnership with a particular content whose urgency no longer exists, and the improper resurrection of this style would only defile its quaint legacy.
If a deity revealed itself and taunted me with the presence of a hell, I’m ashamed to admit that I would, out of fear, become its most loyal acolyte.
WHAT ANNOYS YOU THE MOST IN OTHERS?
Within the moment of provocation, the other becomes object to him, and he will respond with disgust if this object does not comply with his quixotic criteria. An object of infinite construction, capable of pleasing his varying and developing tastes, would be his ultimate object of sexuality. However, the existence of this extremity alone, considering the function it serves, forfeits the possibility of it having subjectivity.
Sexuality haunts him, but without the haunting none of his particular sublimation effects would have existed, which he values, believing to have profited from them.
WHAT DOES THIS SCHOOL NEED? THIS ROOM? YOU? THIS CITY? THIS COUNTRY?
School cannot guarantee the desired career, so free resources are most reasonable. This room requires the commitment of a friend. I need the confidence to decide. This city should remain hinting at filth. This country should host more Beckett plays.
WHO IS ROOSEVELT?
The witty answer would be Robin Williams who played Teddy Roosevelt in the Night at the Museum franchise of movies.
WHAT SHOULD THE STUDENT LOUNGE LOOK LIKE? WHERE?
Like some seedy Amsterdam neon café with leather booths, underground.
“Samuel Beckett (along with Robbe Grillet and the nouveaux romanciers) was one of the primary influences on conceptual and minimalist art in the 1960s, modeling anti-symbolic and impersonal compositions of minimal statements in maximum elaboration. The famous “sucking stones” sequence from Molloy (New York: Grove, 1955) is an obsessive transcription of body movements and inanimate objects into mathematical logic. Although the first person singular I is invoked, it reveals nothing of the narrator’s subjectivity or emotion, nothing of the impact of the action on the human. Rather, the body is reduced to another cog in a machine.
The apparent purposelessness of such an activity underscores Beckett’s emphasis on formal linguistic sequence supplanting literature’s more traditional transparent delivery of pathos (though the sequence is still undoubtedly riddled with pathos, a testament to how hard it is to actually rid language of metaphor and emotion). Beckett’s passage opens up writing to the influence of formal mathematical theory as praxis, in hindsight putting to the test Ludwig Wittgenstein’s proposed language games as works of poetry.”
– Craig Dworkin and Kenneth Goldsmith, Against Expression: An Anthology of Conceptual Writing