Recently I have been thinking in a way which I would describe as more 'gothic.' The photo here is a little deceiving in that is is taken at a party and while I do wear nothing other than black, the nails and eyes are not the usual style. I guess this line of thought connects several things. The first is the general sense of depression at being here in this job. The second is that upon telling my boss that I would be quitting at the end of the year I was told, in the course of the discussion, that I have a "dark streak." Which is not wrong, I like to read Dostoevsky and listen to Burzum, so I can haerdly deny it. The third is perhaps a little more obtuse, and it is that I have been reading a lot of Derrida again, 'Specters of Marx' in particular. I think that Derrida's interest in death, and in particular monuments, mourning and all sorts of cultures of death is particularly gothic. I once saw a book on that very subject but did not buy it, I wish that I had. I wonder if there is a connection between my interest in philosophy, or a very specific philosophy, and my interest in the gothic. I am not so keen on the brash or over the top sort of gothicness. More the brooding and the ruin, an atmosphere not a style. I think that the gothic is much better as an idea not as reality. The opaqueness is the interesting part, once you see something it just becomes a parody of itself. This is perhaps a Derridian point, that total knowledge slips away into a farce, thus making itself impossible. The authentic gothic can never be seen as it will create some darkness around itself, shroud itself in a style which parodies reality. It is something which must be created in the imagination, not shown directly. That probably connects up with my disavowal of the nails and eyes in the photograph, the gothic, or the 'dark streak' is better hinted at and hidden within its own darkness. Once it becomes something known, and this includes...

Recently I have been thinking in a way which I would describe as more 'gothic.' The photo here is a little deceiving in that is is taken at a party and while I do wear nothing other than black, the nails and eyes are not the usual style. I guess this line of thought connects several things. The first is the general sense of depression at being here in this job. The second is that upon telling my boss that I would be quitting at the end of the year I was told, in the course of the discussion, that I have a "dark streak." Which is not wrong, I like to read Dostoevsky and listen to Burzum, so I can haerdly deny it. The third is perhaps a little more obtuse, and it is that I have been reading a lot of Derrida again, 'Specters of Marx' in particular. I think that Derrida's interest in death, and in particular monuments, mourning and all sorts of cultures of death is particularly gothic. I once saw a book on that very subject but did not buy it, I wish that I had. I wonder if there is a connection between my interest in philosophy, or a very specific philosophy, and my interest in the gothic. I am not so keen on the brash or over the top sort of gothicness. More the brooding and the ruin, an atmosphere not a style. I think that the gothic is much better as an idea not as reality. The opaqueness is the interesting part, once you see something it just becomes a parody of itself. This is perhaps a Derridian point, that total knowledge slips away into a farce, thus making itself impossible. The authentic gothic can never be seen as it will create some darkness around itself, shroud itself in a style which parodies reality. It is something which must be created in the imagination, not shown directly. That probably connects up with my disavowal of the nails and eyes in the photograph, the gothic, or the 'dark streak' is better hinted at and hidden within its own darkness. Once it becomes something known, and this includes known by the market, given an exchange value as a commodity, it begins to lose the opaqueness which belies real darkness. My mood then is the point where this becomes condensed around a core of the abyss. Fighting absolute knowledge is a way of avoiding the known, and which necessitates a turn to the gothic. More Burzum, more Derrida, as strange as they sound together.