What does perpetual mourning do to a people? And suspended mourning? How does a people mourn the incomprehensible anyhow? Maybe that’s the disjuncture that I feel in the way certain people talk about past and present tragedies of oppression, colonialism, despotism: they have not entered the state of the incomprehensible. It’s not simply that they don’t understand — because neither do we or can we — but that they have not yet been swallowed by the obscene absurdity of mass death, of massacres, of tragedy that is beyond the individual. And maybe that’s what makes the way we fight different.
the world is incoherent and needs better grammar in the way it conducts life.
this week’s been harder to process sadness. for some reason this week my long-practiced way of thinking about things like Palestine or Syria in a manner that makes it possible to carry on, organize, write, seems to be disintegrating a bit.