There always remains a difference between the measure and the thing
measured, no matter how close together they may come…The intellect is to truth as the polygon is to the circle: just as the polygon, the more sides and angle it has, approximates but never becomes a circle, even if one lets the sides and angles multiply infinitely, so we know of the truth no more than we can grasp it as it is with any true precision.
"You may conceive the difference in kind between the Fancy and the Imagination in this way, —that if the check of the senses and the reason were withdrawn, the first would become delirium, and the last mania."
7 pages from “The Book of Gates,” A collage narrative of tiny proportions brought to you by Pleasure Editions! To be released in facsimile in 2014 along with MANY NEW RELEASES coming soon. STAY TUNED. <3
Zine:: $5 :: VERY RARE. The Psychical Keystones: New and Selected Poems of Eric Ripert. ONLY 7 COPIES LEFT. Get them before cooking is officially abolished. BONUS: INTERVIEW from GQ Magazine. Paypal $5 to firstname.lastname@example.org ::100% REAL.
fr. “Preparation of the Carp”
a rat with eric’s head
strolls about Broadway
he tells your fortune to the great dane
who in turn lets you keep his white paw print
upon your heart forever
your location will be tracked
I have created perception in you only in order to be the
object of my perception.
We have had too much consecration,
too little affirmation,
too much: I know, I feel
the meaning that words hide;
they are anagrams, cryptograms,
little boxes, conditioned
to hatch butterflies …
Rejoice, Liars Rejoice, the witch of truth has perished Of her own will - Falling to earth humanly And rising in petty pain. It was the last grandeur, When the witch crashed And had a mortal laming. And quick hearthturned to blood Those fires of speculation Where she burned long and coldly. Away, flattery, she has lost pride. Away, book-love, she has a body. Away, body-love, she has a death To be born into, an end to make Of that eternity and grandeur In which a legend pines till it comes true - When fawning devil boasts belief And the witch, for her own honour, Takes on substance, shedding phantomness.
Paule, I am very sad and desperate,
my body hurts all over,
but above all I have the impression that people were disappointed
in my radio broadcast.
Wherever the machine is
there is always the abyss and the void,
there is a technical intervention that distorts and annihilates what one has
The criticisms of M. and A.A. are unjust but they have been based on
some weakness in the transitions,
this is why I am through with the Radio,
and from now on will devote myself
to the theatre
as I conceive it,
a theatre of blood,
a theatre which with each performance will have done
to the one who performs as well as to the one who comes to see others
the performers are not performing,
they are doing.
The theatre is in reality the genesis of creation.
This will happen.
I had a vision this afternoon—I saw those who were going to follow me and those who are still not completely embodied because pigs like those at the restaurant last night eat too much. There are some who eat too much and others like me who can no longer eat without spitting.
Feb. 24, 1948
I rushed out to the balcony and grabbed a small flower pot, and when the man reappeared on the sidewalk below, I let my little engine of war fall in a perpendicular drop onto the rear edge of his hooks; and as the impact knocked him over, he managed to smash the whole paltry ambulatory fortune on his back, with the tingling sound of a crystal palace being shattered by lightning. And, drunk with my folly, I screamed at him furiously: “Make life beautiful! Make life beautiful!”
"Often there is nothing above and everything below. Seek."
Vasari on Da Vinci:
“On a very peculiar green lizard … he put wings made out of scales taken from other lizards … so that they quivered from the movement when it walked; he made eyes, a horn and a beard for it, tamed it and kept it in a box, and it made all his friends run away afraid when he showed it to them.”
Austin and I were talking the other Night about the Extension of Consciousness, after death and Mother told Vinnie, afterwards, she thought it ‘very improper’.