Fragments on the Mourning of Images
In the society of the spectacle, even death must pose for the camera, and what is buried is not only the body but the last fragile hope that anything might remain untouched by the churn of images
The rest of the blog
In the society of the spectacle, even death must pose for the camera, and what is buried is not only the body but the last fragile hope that anything might remain untouched by the churn of images
Nigel Farage’s rise is not simply the product of voter disillusionment but the result of a liberal media too fearful, too compromised, and too complicit to confront the reactionary politics they helped create.
The United States is no longer sliding toward fascism; it is actively constructing it, one arrested judge, one silenced journalist, and one gutted civil rights protection at a time
Lain’s forensic account of lethal injection reveals not a broken system, but a killing state operating exactly as intended. Where cruelty is bureaucratised, incompetence is institutionalised, and the violence of capital punishment is hidden beneath the theatre of medical procedure.
Name is a ruthless political act disguised as literature, dismantling the family, class inheritance, and even the very idea of a coherent self in service of a more radical form of freedom
Some might be fooled by the swivel-eyed sermons about “free speech” or “common sense.” But Farage is no friend of workers. His party would criminalise strikes, deregulate labour protections, and deport those without paperwork faster than you can say “hostile environment.” The deeper appeal comes not from anything tangible, but from the thrill of performative cruelty.
The United States is no longer sliding toward fascism; it is actively constructing it, one arrested judge, one silenced journalist, and one gutted civil rights protection at a time
Lain’s forensic account of lethal injection reveals not a broken system, but a killing state operating exactly as intended. Where cruelty is bureaucratised, incompetence is institutionalised, and the violence of capital punishment is hidden beneath the theatre of medical procedure.
Name is a ruthless political act disguised as literature, dismantling the family, class inheritance, and even the very idea of a coherent self in service of a more radical form of freedom
Some might be fooled by the swivel-eyed sermons about “free speech” or “common sense.” But Farage is no friend of workers. His party would criminalise strikes, deregulate labour protections, and deport those without paperwork faster than you can say “hostile environment.” The deeper appeal comes not from anything tangible, but from the thrill of performative cruelty.