July 13, 2015

2015.07.13
It was the month of June, the morning sun was emerging from the clouds, and Alain was walking slowly down a Paris street. He observed the young girls, who--every one of them--showed her naked navel between trousers belted very low and a T-shirt cut very short. He was captivated; captivated and even disturbed: It was if their seductive power no longer resided in their thighs, their buttocks, or their breasts, but in that small round hole located in the center of the body.
Milan Kundera, opening of "The Festival of Insignificance". Reminds me a bit of these old David Rakoff quotes I saved eight (!) years ago, http://kirk.is/2007/09/13/

I remember Veronika​ thinking that the drinking fountains at our high school were kind of weird and gross, and it's funny, and maybe not a great thing, that culturally we kind of came around to that way of thinking...