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The infected touching antiquity

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  The infected touching antiquity Do you feel divinity when you touch antiquity? Metamodernist art by JJFBbennett Stand before a marble relic, and you find yourself at the threshold of contact. The museum enforces detachment. Do you feel the decay and contamination your hands carry? But what happens when your flesh touches ancient stone? To reach out is an act of somatic friction. Our mortal residue, sebaceous oils and living warmth, ruptures the sterile illusion of the untainted idol. We drag the pristine monument down into the mess of human mortality. Yet, the instinct to touch is an innate longing for connection. Laying bare skin against ancient form collapses millennia, sparking a euphoric link to what came before. Touch restores, renews, and opens an otherworldly portal beyond everyday perception. Touching antiquity infects its distant divinity with our decay, but in that very transgression, it bridges the void—granting the seeker genuine transport into transcendent awe. B...

Godin Defence: Why can't everything just stay the same?

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Life promised so much but little favour came my way. And over this vista of nothingness I claimed what is mine. I waited for all of the promises and yet none did come. Others more fortunate gained splendor, but splendor was not me. And I gained self respect on other's misfortune. But your misfortune is not of my concern. Count your blessings and rot in your tragedy. Yes it will end in tears should you trespass my den. I do not travel,  my miracle is here. I remained close to my heritage. This colonial might. This is God's country, he gave it to me. I will deny you entry. You are contagion, you are far less than me. There are trees in my backyard, insects and lizards. Rodents scamper at my feet and bats by my ears. My dog is obedient. In silence we sit. Impatient and anxious , I do not want change. In dark moments I tend to my spite. With bottle in hand I seek like-minded. A good  man I have been. I have done no wrong. My house is clean. My ga...