legs, lait, laid, laisse, laisser
(Inspired from Jacques Derrida’s Post Card)
legs means legacy; old French had the pronounciation same as one would pronounce “lais”, old French for "leave (v.)" (laisser today). The legacy which one leaves; to whom? What is the legacy? The money one earned, and for which the heirs are going to fight and make their lives laides? Does one know what one is leaving behind? We leave the quelque chose, but we don’t know what that quelque chose is? And if we die intestate, maybe not even the quelqu’un to whom we lais we don’t know what. When we don’t even know the quelqu’un, why are we always so worried about our legacy? Are we so narcissistic? Are we ourselves the legs that we want laisser to the world, the whole world as quelqu’un. Certainly in the case of artists, certainly in the case of dictators. Doesn’t laisser then become intransitive then? It is only the case of je laisse, nothing more after all. I am more concerned with leaving; in fact, it’s more a case of je me laisse. Isn’t all laisser in the sense of legs then se laisser?
When I fuck a girl, I might leave a small imprint of myself in that girl. So, it’s really that je me lais. But, in the age of contraceptives, I might only je lais, intransitively. Why am I so eager pour me laisser? Why do I make myself so cheap so as to lais myself to n’importe qui? And why have I started to enjoy laisser more than legs? The woman gives all her lait to the child; isn’t it transitive on the part of woman but intransitive on the part of child? The child’s instinct says to drink it, to put his lips there, but not intent. Can I equate instinct with intent? Isn’t instinct Nature’s intent? So, here it’s a transitive action on the part of the third party, the Nature? (see my early post, envoyer, s’envoyer, ...)
When I laisse quelque chose, do I also put on a laisse (noun: "leash") on myself? Or on others through my legs? Do I want to guide the legs of everyone that follows as I wanted mine to and couldn’t? And, more importantly, why do they accept the legs that binds their legs?
legs means legacy; old French had the pronounciation same as one would pronounce “lais”, old French for "leave (v.)" (laisser today). The legacy which one leaves; to whom? What is the legacy? The money one earned, and for which the heirs are going to fight and make their lives laides? Does one know what one is leaving behind? We leave the quelque chose, but we don’t know what that quelque chose is? And if we die intestate, maybe not even the quelqu’un to whom we lais we don’t know what. When we don’t even know the quelqu’un, why are we always so worried about our legacy? Are we so narcissistic? Are we ourselves the legs that we want laisser to the world, the whole world as quelqu’un. Certainly in the case of artists, certainly in the case of dictators. Doesn’t laisser then become intransitive then? It is only the case of je laisse, nothing more after all. I am more concerned with leaving; in fact, it’s more a case of je me laisse. Isn’t all laisser in the sense of legs then se laisser?
When I fuck a girl, I might leave a small imprint of myself in that girl. So, it’s really that je me lais. But, in the age of contraceptives, I might only je lais, intransitively. Why am I so eager pour me laisser? Why do I make myself so cheap so as to lais myself to n’importe qui? And why have I started to enjoy laisser more than legs? The woman gives all her lait to the child; isn’t it transitive on the part of woman but intransitive on the part of child? The child’s instinct says to drink it, to put his lips there, but not intent. Can I equate instinct with intent? Isn’t instinct Nature’s intent? So, here it’s a transitive action on the part of the third party, the Nature? (see my early post, envoyer, s’envoyer, ...)
When I laisse quelque chose, do I also put on a laisse (noun: "leash") on myself? Or on others through my legs? Do I want to guide the legs of everyone that follows as I wanted mine to and couldn’t? And, more importantly, why do they accept the legs that binds their legs?
posted by ankyuk at
7:28 am
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