There I am: Duchamp’s mustachioed Mona Lisa, The Importance of Being Earnest, $70 in wrinkled bills, two suitcases, a seven year old boy, and a theory of my own sensibility.

SONTAG BY MARINA REID WEISS 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 13

There I am: Duchamp’s mustachioed Mona Lisa, The Importance of Being Earnest, $70 in wrinkled bills, two suitcases, a seven year old boy, and a theory of my own sensibility.

I will now make bouillon out of soup.

For my next act, I divide you into those with moral goodness and those with dangerous topics. I will not marry anyone.

I wonder where does an erotics of art wander, where can I swat its firm buttocks with my willow switch until it dispels masochism and capitulation for le mot juste?

If I had not existed, I would have had to invent me along with a fear of trivial pleasure.

The theorist is always in arrears to herself, because she has the greatest library in private hands in the world, an immensely complex enterprise of self-description.