Sunday, November 30, 2014

“La pornographie de la banalité”

For reasons which our researchers are still trying to figure out (busy at work in the bustling bomb-proof underground laboratories beneath the WDC headquarters in Geneva), whenever I put up a post with “porn” in the title, the essay gets more hits than those with say, “ontology” or “monostich” or “Trinitarian minimalism”;  even though, in no case  is there the least hint of anything  that would bring a blush to a maiden’s cheek (though it might cause a Nominalist  to flush beet-red).   Go figure.

Anyhow:  I just listened to another delightful causerie by our favorite Franco-Maghrebo-Netherlandish radio journalist, al-sayyid Fouad Laroui.   In the course of a highly entertaining rant, he comes up with the phrase that headlines this note.  You can enjoy his perceptive artistry here:

And for those lost souls who, slaves to their own libido, wound up at this page under the false hope that they might wind up beholding the considerable charms of, say Mlle. Aurélie Delvaux (which, en revanche, you may savor here and here), we offer this bagatelle as a consolation prize:


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