Latest Articles by Sarah Canice Funke
....actually makes sense.
Yeah, I woke up today with a lowgrade fever and a semantics paper to write. Ideas about how language is used to contain the unknown, to confront death, to prolong the self are floating round my brain...next up, Derrida through Delerium...
Insanity intrigues me...why are the "mad writings" all so incredibly lucid? Is madness a social transgression, a breaking down of inhibitions, a willingness to go beyond the "weather is very fine, sir" to outbursts of maniacal laughter, to disrupt comfort zones with an element of the terrible?
"I am a sick man. I am an angry man. I think that there is something wrong with my liver..."