A Body That’s All Surface

and hustlers and cover it with skyscrapers. As the inhabitants of deviant underworlds are evicted from their restricted territories—banned as unseemly, a public nuisance, obscene, or just unprofitable—they increasingly come to infiltrate consciousness as the subject matter of art, acquiring a certain diffuse legitimacy and metaphoric proximity whic

“visible wretchedness is counterbalanced by a hidden glory.”

Presence is full and washes over all content and the fragmentation of previous views, disappear into its origin — impartiality.

In its peremptory reductiveness, it celebrates a hallucination of presence, of an unalterable permanence composed of incessant, frictionless operations. It belongs to the aftermath of a common life made into the object of technics.

First, the short body is simply the isolated, individual organism. It ends at the outermost layer of skin and has minimal connection with the so-called outside world. This is the body we see in the mirror. This is the body that appears on magazine covers, the body that we see on the anatomy chart in the doctor’s office. This is the medical object.