Alphonso Lingis (2 talks)


In A Natural History of the Senses, Diane Ackerman comments on  Alphonso  Lingis:

Alphonso Lingis—whose unusual books, Excesses and Libido, consider the realms of human sensuality and kinkiness—travels the world sampling its exotic erotica. Often he primes the pump by writing letters to friends. I possess some extraordinary letters, half poetry, half anthropology, he sent me from a Thai jail (where he took time out from picking vermin to write), a convent in Ecuador, Africa (where he was scuba-diving along the coast with filmmaker Leni Riefenstahl), and Bali (where he was taking part in fertility rituals).

Although I find Lingis’ writing a bit over the top at times, it’s certainly never boring or uninteresting.

Here are links to a couple of compelling videos of Lingis–I think–reading from his forthcoming book, Violence and Splendor (here) and (here)

Ego Sum Ergo Doleo


In the Critique of Pure Reason, Kant explains that properly philosophical work concludes with defi nition, produces it as its end, rather than beginning from defi nition in the manner of mathematics. The reason: “philosophical defi nitions are brought about only as expositions of given concepts, but mathematical definitions as constructions of concepts made originally. . . . mathematical definitions themselves make the concept, whereas philosophical defi nitions only explicate it.”  I want, contrarily, a defi nition of
sorrow from which philosophy can properly and poetically begin, a defi nition of sorrow that makes its concept and produces philosophy by means of its explication. Not a definition of sorrow for the sake of an ultimate understanding or study of sorrow’s nature, but a sorrow for the sake of the ultimate defi nition of our own. A mathematical definition of sorrow that is philosophically poetic, as it were.

“The Sorrow of Being” (here)

File Under…


…Things I don’t care about.

Just got this, which didn’t make it through the comment filter (note that he’s making a MAJOR appearance, not just a mere appearance AND the stupid invocation to “hide your tulips.” Ack):

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