One is either of a people who forget or a people who remember.

I have been patronizing my dishwasher. I have been subsidizing its efforts.

We are completely off whatever rockers we were trusted to sit on—and our condemnation of the stock market is entirely correct.

Social media is a machine for the universalization of Posting, such that all human communication becomes a Post in its exterior form, regardless of the interior intention of the poster.

We will either become Catholic or remain counterproductive.

Plastic “makes” a thing present to all and yet seals it within itself, which is of course, the liberal description of the self.

The humanists are inhuman, but let us not be taken for fools: their “philosophy” is more materially determined by the stock market than spiritually determined by any insight into the human condition.

I am excited to have more children, largely because I have a lot to do, and after a certain increase in their muscle mass and spiritual faculty, a child can help me to do it.

The legal possibility of abortion trains women and men to swat away the female experience of being in media res, already committed, already loving, already nourishing whether she would or no, and to take on an imitation of prototypically male anxieties: is it really mine? Do I really want it? The very possibility that, after all, I may kill it, may “terminate,” may become not-mother, negates the female into a perverse image of the male—who looks upon a pregnancy from the outside.