About this blog

This blog is my attempt to construct and concretize my world view, I write in fragmented passages about a wide variety of subjects including science, the self, religion, culture, language, etc or perhaps more accurately I try and source myself in these themes to write what I want. The tone of the writing can sway from whimsical to impassioned.

I wish to read a wide variety of authors, in a large number of languages, and to be inspired by them to write passages about our world and my world, to burn in me little embers of all the cultures I can get my eyes on, and offer my reader passages with which he or she may intoxicate him or herself, this is ofcourse what I aspire for.

Thus the name of the blog “Les mots ivres” – the intoxicated words.

I hope to become a better writer as time passes, I hope the reader will be patient with me, this blog is a first step in what I hope will be a long learning experience.

I have categorised these fragments based on the theme, and in some cases the specific author that has influenced what I have written. Since almost nothing I have written has much structure to it, I cannot call them anything but fragments, fragments not so much to be read as to be sipped. Ofcourse, not all wine is good.

My ambition is to one day build a website to explore the power of constructive cultural exchange, I hope this blog serves as a germ for it.

I invite you to comment, provide feedback, share and engage as you wish!

After the industrial revolution, and the internet revolution, the world must now see a cultural revolution!

I end this About this blog, with the words of Baudelaire, who to his credit, has found the only question worth asking:

Il faut être toujours ivre, tout est là ; c’est l’unique question. Pour ne pas sentir l’horrible fardeau du temps qui brise vos épaules et vous penche vers la terre, il faut vous enivrer sans trêve.

Mais de quoi? De vin, de poésie, ou de vertu à votre guise, mais enivrez-vous!

Et si quelquefois, sur les marches d’un palais, sur l’herbe verte d’un fossé, vous vous réveillez, l’ivresse déjà diminuée ou disparue, demandez au vent, à la vague, à l’étoile, à l’oiseau, à l’horloge; à tout ce qui fuit, à tout ce qui gémit, à tout ce qui roule, à tout ce qui chante, à tout ce qui parle, demandez quelle heure il est. Et le vent, la vague, l’étoile, l’oiseau, l’horloge, vous répondront, il est l’heure de s’enivrer ; pour ne pas être les esclaves martyrisés du temps, enivrez-vous, enivrez-vous sans cesse de vin, de poésie, de vertu, à votre guise.