‘Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.’
– Oscar Wilde
Continue readingInstagram: Is Photography the Language of the Lie?
Posted in Pretensions toward cultural theory with tags hall of mirrors, hashtag, Instagram, lie, photography, toxic positivity on February 12, 2022 by Jarrod Boyle
Brave New World: Beware the Philosopher
Posted in Observation, Pretensions toward cultural theory, Reading with tags 1984, Aldous Huxley, Artificial intelligence, Brave New World, George Orwell, Yuval Noah Harari on December 26, 2021 by Jarrod Boyle
“I think Brave New World is the best science fiction book ever, definitely the most prescient. Huxley was writing in the early 1930’s with Stalin and Hitler around, but what he was envisioning was our present.
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I Have Recently Begun to Dream About Fucking You
Posted in Goddess, Love letters, Pornography on November 26, 2021 by Jarrod Boyle
In Search of Lost Time
Posted in Reading, Real Men with tags Alain De Botton, How Proust Can Change Your Life, In Search of Lost Time, Leo Tolstoy, Marcel Proust, Rodney Hall, War and Peace on November 14, 2021 by Jarrod Boyle
In Search of Lost Time
Posted in Reading, Real Men with tags Alain De Botton, How Proust Can Change Your Life, In Search of Lost Time, Leo Tolstoy, Marcel Proust, Rodney Hall, War and Peace on November 9, 2021 by Jarrod Boyle
1.
I finished reading In Search of Lost Time a few weeks ago, and now it’s over, there is a peculiar Proust-shaped hole in my life.
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‘What’s Your Favourite John Mayer Song?’
Posted in Pretensions toward cultural theory with tags Cormac McCarthy, guitar, Harrisen Hughes, John Mayer, Marty Friedman, Ophelia, Siamese fighting fish, Slayer, Slow Dancing in a Burning Room, The Crossing on October 23, 2021 by Jarrod Boyle
That’s a good question, my young friend, because enjoying John Mayer is not something a ‘real’ man is willing to broadcast.
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Mirror Mirror
Posted in Pretensions toward cultural theory, trauma with tags body building, body image, Charles Bukowski, diet, Exercise, Fitness First, gyms, Ham on Rye, Instagram, Mirror Mirror, plastic surgery, social media, Sylvia Plath, Todd Sampson, Training on September 19, 2021 by Jarrod Boyle
‘I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful‚
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.’
‘Mirror’
By Sylvia Plath.
Todd Sampson is full of shit.
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‘Simplicity is the Last Step in Art…’
Posted in Boxing, fighting with tags Boxing, Bruce Lee, kids, Training on August 30, 2021 by Jarrod Boyle
Training other people’s children is one of the most significant responsibilities I’ve undertaken.
It’s a huge moment of trust when a parent leaves you with their child, and I feel as if me and the kid are enveloped in a white-hot spotlight of attention. Everyone can see everything I do, and they’re watching in relation to the child.
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Ex Machina
Posted in Film, Pretensions toward cultural theory with tags Alex Garland, Bluebeard, Ex Machina, Jackson Pollock, Kyoko, Robert Oppenheimer, Simone De Beauvoir, The Second Sex on August 26, 2021 by Jarrod Boyle
2.
Bluebeard is the grisly tale of a powerful, wealthy nobleman who marries a young, innocent peasant girl. She discovers, while he is away, that her new husband has beheaded his previous wives once they have ceased to amuse him. In part, it is a cautionary tale about a rich, powerful man’s objectification of a young, naive woman.
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Ex Machina
Posted in Film, Pretensions toward cultural theory with tags Blade Runner, Netflix, Parasite, Stan, Turing Test on August 24, 2021 by Jarrod Boyle
I tend to peruse my Netflix and Stan accounts with dismay. Firstly, they clash with the portrait I paint of myself socially, as someone who ‘doesn’t watch television.’ Secondly, I find that I’ll open an account with a streaming service because I want to see something specific, like Parasite, for example, and then I’m confounded by the volume of crap I don’t want to see that comes with it.
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Theme Park at its Darkest 