Estaban J.L. Borges y J. Derrida en un café de Paris...
TLÖN, UQBAR, ORBIS TERTIUS. EL JARDÍN DE SENDEROS QUE SE BIFURCAN =TE DIJISTE QUEBRAR DESDE QUE FORNICAS BURRAS EN UN BISTRO. LOL_n
Nota: la "deconstrucción" de los significantes fue de mi autoría
Los intelectuales y sus cochinadas... sniff.
ResponderEliminarWhat would be my spontaneous attitude to Borges? It’s a pensive one. I am reminded of an interview with Borges, during a visit to Harvard in 1968. His father had a theory of forgetting that lingered with him. “I think if I recall something,” his father said, “for example, if today I look back on this morning, then I get an image of what I saw this morning. But if tonight, I’m thinking back on this morning, then what I’m really recalling is not the first image, but the first image in memory. So that every time I recall something, I’m not recalling it really, I’m recalling the last time I recalled it, I’m recalling my last memory of it. So that really, I have no memories whatever, I have no images whatever, about my childhood, my youth.” My relationship with Borges works precisely in this fashion; I have no relationship with him whatever. The only relationship I have with him, his writings, is his ghost – the traces of Borges. -- Derrida
ResponderEliminar