"Late in the year, the New York chapter of the National Organization for Women (NOW) instigates a letter and phone call appeal demanding that he stop referring to women as ‘little girls’ in his music. A spokeswoman in Springsteen’s office defends his use of ‘little girl’, calling it a ‘rock and roll term.’ She is quoted in Rolling Stone magazing as saying that no calls or letters had been received, except from NOW members wishing to dissociate themselves from the project."
Jim Cullen, Born in the USA: Bruce Springsteen and the American Tradition, via Emma Forrest’s Cherries in the Snow.
i mean - i mean - when a novel uses this as an epigraph, it’s guaranteed to be perfect, you know what i’m saying?
"If you free it with too violent an action, if you blow apart the strata without taking precautions, then instead of drawing the plane you will be killed, plunged into a black hole, or even dragged toward catastrophe. Staying stratified—organized, signified, subjected— is not the worst that can happen; the worst that can happen is if you throw the strata into demented or suicidal collapse, which brings them back down on us heavier than ever. This is how it should be done: Lodge yourself on a stratum, experiment with the opportunities it offers, find an advantageous place on it, find potential movements of deterritorialization, possible lines of flight, experience them, produce flow conjunctions here and there, try out continuums of intensities segment by segment, have a small plot of new land at all times."
- gilles deleuze & felix guattari, a thousand plateaus (capitalism & schizophrenia part 2)
Years and years ago, there was a production of The Tempest, out of doors, at an Oxford college on a lawn, which was the stage, and the lawn went back towards the lake in the grounds of the college, and the play began in natural light. But as it developed, and as it became time for Ariel to say his farewell to the world of The Tempest, the evening had started to close in and there was some artificial lighting coming on. And as Ariel uttered his last speech, he turned and he ran across the grass, and he got to the edge of the lake and he just kept running across the top of the water — the producer having thoughtfully provided a kind of walkway an inch beneath the water. And you could see and you could hear the plish, plash as he ran away from you across the top of the lake, until the gloom enveloped him and he disappeared from your view.
And as he did so, from the further shore, a firework rocket was ignited, and it went whoosh into the air, and high up there it burst into lots of sparks, and all the sparks went out, and he had gone.
When you look up the stage directions, it says, ‘Exit Ariel.’
- Tom Stoppard, University of Pennsylvania, 1996