tgindex
Galactocosmic Ontological Disorder

Galactocosmic Ontological Disorder

Статистика

"We will arrive at a moment of sufficient self alienation where we can contemplate our own destruction as in a static spectacle..." -Walter Benjamin

Последний пост
12 июл.
Последнее чтение
09:00
Постов за неделю
0
Всего постов
21
Тип
открытый
Язык
английский
Категория
Развлечения (по похожим)
В каталоге с
12 авг.
Подписчики
9 898
−6 за 5 дн.
Сутки
−1
−0,01%
Неделя
 
Месяц
 
Просмотров на пост
2 840
21 постов
Вовлечённость
28,7%
к подписчикам
Постов в день
0,0
всего 21
Упоминаний
4
каналов
Охват размещения
оценка
1/24сутки в ленте
1/48двое суток
1/72трое суток

Оценка по просмотрам недавних постов: пост набирает почти всё за первые сутки.

Посты

  • 12 июл.1 91113из critpunk

    без подписи

  • 5 июл.2 6007из critpunk

    William Carlos Williams, "To Elsie" or "The pure products of America / go crazy" from Spring and all (1923) The pure products of America go crazy-- mountain folk from Kentucky or the ribbed north end of Jersey with its isolate lakes and valleys, its deaf-mutes, thieves old names and promiscuity between devil-may-care men who have taken to railroading out of sheer lust of adventure-- and young slatterns, bathed in filth from Monday to Saturday to be tricked out that night with gauds from imaginations which have no peasant traditions to give them character but flutter and flaunt sheer rags succumbing without emotion save numbed terror under some hedge of choke-cherry or viburnum-- which they cannot express-- Unless it be that marriage perhaps with a dash of Indian blood will throw up a girl so desolate so hemmed round with disease or murder that she'll be rescued by an agent-- reared by the state and sent out at fifteen to work in some hard-pressed house in the suburbs-- some doctor's family, some Elsie voluptuous water expressing with broken brain the truth about us-- her great ungainly hips and flopping breasts addressed to cheap jewelry and rich young men with fine eyes as if the earth under our feet were an excrement of some sky and we degraded prisoners destined to hunger until we eat filth while the imagination strains after deer going by fields of goldenrod in the stifling heat of September somehow it seems to destroy us It is only in isolate flecks that something is given off No one to witness and adjust, no one to drive the car

  • 23 июн.3 02525

    без подписи

  • 22 июн.2 94229

    без подписи

  • 21 июн.2 82737

    без подписи

  • 21 июн.2 28527

    без подписи

  • 21 июн.2 33125

    без подписи

  • 21 июн.2 13312

    без подписи

  • 21 июн.2 09118

    без подписи

  • 21 июн.2 14819

    без подписи

  • 21 июн.2 74531

    без подписи

  • 21 июн.1 78011

    без подписи

  • 21 июн.2 02311из CthulhuCultRevivalUnit

    ∅⁻¹

  • 17 июн.2 90522из critpunk

    без подписи

  • 11 июн.3 54135

    без подписи

  • 28 мая5 722102

    без подписи

  • 21 мая4 34827

    без подписи

  • 21 мая3 62027

    без подписи

  • 21 мая3 19217

    без подписи

  • 21 мая2 63918

    без подписи