"Because regardless of how attached we might be to the practical, within our mysterious matter boils the thirst of the unknown, the intense desire to create, the poetic condition that propels us towards everything magic, ritualistic, fantastic and miraculous. I can already hear a multitude of fanatics saying: “Miracles don’t exist! Miracles don’t exist!” But those fanatics remind me of the anecdote according to which Baudelaire, when a friend asked him why he had abandoned a certain discussion at a café in anger, responded: “Of course I’m leaving! How can you discuss anything with a person who doesn’t believe in miracles?” That is: how can we consider an individual fully human if within his matter there doesn’t exist even an atom of poetic force, an atom of absurdity, a portion of magic?"
"It is popular among liberal Pakistanis to nostalgically invoke the more socially liberal Pakistan of the 1950s and 1960s as a country that was on the path to peaceful prosperity. They fondly recall a time before Pakistan was “The World’s Most Dangerous Nation,” when it was safe for memsahibs to wear bikinis – a time before conservative moral policing took kulchur hostage. Photographs of the era circulate widely among the country’s liberal social media community and in like-minded columns of many print publications. And, certainly, in as far as these images advocate for a more tolerant society, their circulation is welcome. However, the sentiment behind sharing them is sadly afflicted by the pervasive tendency of reducing contemporary Pakistan’s problems to religion, in particular, the idea that religiosity–Islamic religiosity–is at the root of our ills. Privileging this particular narrative of Islamization, such nostalgia invariably suffers from historical amnesia."
"A person who has good thoughts cannot ever be ugly. You can have a wonky nose and a crooked mouth and a double chin and stick-out teeth, but if you have good thoughts they will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely."
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"The rationalistic inflection of our ideation of reality veils the inadequacy of our representations of it, for reason lends a false coherence and illusory dignity to a reality that, if truth be told for Artaud, is experienced by suffering bodies as a scattering, confusing welter of experience. The compartmentalization and ordering of experience within rationalistic language drains our representations of life of any vitality for Artaud, and this is true not just of the outside world but also of the linguistic subject."