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Vice Blog

NEW YORK - SITUATIONIST RIDIKULUS


Reason is a tongue fat with the gristle of pride, its ribs boasting a diet of impatience. If devotion is a beast the pen cannot escape, then forgiveness is sport with home team advantage. All news is delivered from the past, a language of dried rosebuds dissolving obliviously in potpourri bath. When the brittle stem of faculty snaps we must fault the planet for weakness. And if you don't shut up back there and put your seatbelts on while we take you to info for the release party at Greene Naftali tonight for first-ever English translations of Michéle Bernstein's All the King's Horses and Guy Debord's CORRESPONDENCE: The Foundation of The Situationist International (June 1957-August 1960), Semiotext(e)'s two new tiny imprints (yeah you can stuff 'em in your back pocket, awesome, but please don't use these titles as an excuse to appear intellectual, you pretentious ass), I'll detourn this post right around and head back home.