Apidae
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Artist: Tacocat
Track: Psychedelic Quinceañera

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High-res
Believing, with Max Weber, that man is an animal suspended in webs of significance that he himself has spun, I take culture to be those webs, and the analysis of it to be therefore not an experimental science in search of law but an interpretive on in search of meaning.
  Clifford Geertz, Thick Description: Toward an Interpretive Theory of Culture
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Artist: Regular Fucked Up People
Track: Born in Sand

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♥6

You’re

Clownlike, happiest on your hands,
Feet to the stars, and moon-skulled,
Gilled like a fish. A common-sense
Thumbs-down on the dodo’s mode.
Wrapped up in yourself like a spool,
Trawling your dark as owls do.
Mute as a turnip from the Fourth
Of July to All Fools’ Day,
O high-riser, my little loaf.

Vague as fog and looked for like mail.
Farther off than Australia.
Bent-backed Atlas, our traveled prawn.
Snug as a bud and at home
Like a sprat in a pickle jug.
A creel of eels, all ripples.
Jumpy as a Mexican bean.
Right, like a well-done sum.
A clean slate, with your own face on.

Sylvia Plath, You’re

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♥2

Artist: Hooded Fang
Track: Never Minding

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♥1
A wit going around by itself, half a tongue in someone else’s mouth, parts of melancholy being transposed from one face to another, or, to return to the first example, entities such as “absence-of-cream” going around all by themselves—all these seem to be precisely the kind of “objects” that we encounter both in comedy and in the uncanny.
  Alenka ZupančičReversals of Nothing: The Case of the Sneezing Corpse
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