Saturday, November 15, 2014

ponderous

And it would seem then that to make an image of death, we would have to conceive what our life would be if all the movements of the earth, all the noises of the earth, all the smells, the tastes, all the light – of the earth and of elsewhere, came to us in a moment, in an instant – like an atrocious screaming tumult of all things, traversing us continually and instantaneously.
~Quentin Meillassoux, “Subtraction and Contraction: Deleuze, Immanence, and Matter and Memory”