Monday, December 28, 2009

This is the time of the year when I reread Hamlet and get very, very upset that I--and the people around me--are not the authors of our own destiny; that outside forces act on me, and that's called reality.

My plan was to figure out what the use of representation is to reality, then write it down for this blog-post. I think it's a little bit more complicated than a mirror up to nature (whatever nature is), but I haven't gotten there yet.

I care a great deal about representation in art and poetry inexplicably, I'm still not sure it's worth a damn.

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