(Jean Baudrillard, 1929-2007;
I wrote this poem in the wee hours of March 6th – as I read, finally, his Simulations book which I bought in Prague a year ago;
strangely enough, he died later in the day)
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8 Comments
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loved it.
nkotb is too strong.
March 7th, 2007 | #
so is baudrillard full of shit?
(i mean, we all are, let’s not forget that)
the answer is no.
but doesn’t his ugly mug keep you up at night? those poofy tufts of hair, which have no origional.
March 7th, 2007 | #
In any case, Baudrillard is no longer full of shit – now, the worm shit is full of Baudrillard.
I love him and his big ugly mug – some architecture, hoisting up his buzzing brainbug in imperceptible cloisters.
March 8th, 2007 | #
qui est zhane? would i know this if i were more familiar with baudrillard?
March 8th, 2007 | #
Depends on what way you’d be familiar with Baudrillard. Zhane is how that website told me to say Jean.
March 8th, 2007 | #
funny, I wikipedia-ed it: Zhané (pronounced Jah-Nay) was an American R&B/hip hop soul duo, best known for their 1993 hit “Hey, Mr. D.J.” anyway, now i see how it could represent the pronunciation of Jean, though that’s not how I’d transliterate it… anyway, pretty wonderful timing you had. (it’s more like “Zha-”, as if you were to take the sound from Zhane, but only carry it through halfway to the n. though this is besides the point…)
March 8th, 2007 | #
p.s. i like the poem.
March 8th, 2007 | #
hey mr. dj hey mr. radio man, something something reequest line
March 8th, 2007 | #