WHAT IS AN UNHEALED WOUND WORTH?

Matières Fécales, The One Percent, and marginality’s right to set its own value.

In Regarding the Pain of Others, Susan Sontag writes about the distance of the spectator. Today, that distance becomes a Russian question: can one look at Ukrainian pain and still remain a bystander?

In Return to Reims, Eribon writes about an adulthood that does not arrive with success. One can acquire language, status, and a name, and still continue assembling oneself out of shame, rupture, and other people’s expectations.

Russia is once again learning to see itself through someone else’s eyes — through the eyes of Merezhkovsky’s Vasyuta: “some milk, maybe… but I don’t feel like it”. And that “I don’t feel like it” is enough to describe today’s reaction and the war.

I now see My Own Private Idaho not as a film about beautiful rootlessness, but as a film about the difference between those who have an “afterwards” and those who don’t.

Why No Skin Off My Ass matters not only as a film, but as a trace of a queer culture that had not yet become polite, institutional, and safe.

The Masturbator’s Heart speaks of death calmly, almost matter-of-factly, as something simply pencilled into the schedule.