The mortifying ordeal of being known A Fragment by Tim Kreider opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com Years ago a friend of mine had a dream about a strange invention; a staircase you could descend deep underground, in which you heard recordings of all the things anyone had ever said about you, both good and bad. The catch was, you had to pass through all the worst things people had said before you could get to the highest compliments at the very bottom. There is no way I would ever make it more than two and a half steps down such a staircase, but I understand its terrible logic: if we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known. lovehumanity
It is a little world See how many a pretty thing I always from the cube can bring: Chair and sofa, bench and table, Desk to write at when I’m able, All the household furniture, Even baby’s bed I’m sure; Not a few such things I see; Stove and sideboard here can be. Many things, both old and new, My dear cube brings into view; So my cube much pleases me, Because through it so much I see. It is a little world. Ellen Lupton & J. Abbott Miller, The ABC's of ▲■●: The Bauhaus and Design Theory Cubed modularity