sluts of doubtful origin (let's ride)
life rx 27 may 24
the knight of pentacles, and a line from Brian Blanchfield’s Proxies: “Affirming a kind of brotherhood we have, my friend Matthew recently helped me reel in this anecdote's true conclusion: It is a particular sensation of sluttiness to head home in jizzy jeans.”
the aleatory
This hand is for flames. This root is for teeth. Work makes something appear where previously was nothing but time and potential. It makes the knock knock. It makes the seed go deep. It weighs the eventual. It is ultimately an act of faith. You know that it’s work because it has roots. That’s the whole point.
The word “slut” is interesting—the only word I’ve ever looked up whose provenance was at best a shrug. In the OED: “Middle English of doubtful origin.” (Funny how “doubtful origin” sounds a bit … sluttish.)
But it is clearly associated with a slew (aha) of sl— words which imply untidy, bold, and rascal-ish behavior. (Slattern, slovenly, ooh, apparently nothing good happens when the tongue spends so long in the front of the mouth.) And genuinely in initial useage, seems to have much more to do with careless untidy appearance than promiscuity. Promiscuous—“mingled confusedly.” Careless mingling. Doubtful origin.
Work and sluttiness are only opposed to each other in the most superficial way. Orderly acts of faith are impossible to perform without mess. Orderly acts of faith are meaningless without chaos. (How much one ought to personally contribute to one’s chaos basically comes down to a matter of taste.) You can only polish a diamond for so long. If you keep going, it will eventually disappear.
the assignment
New rule: all of thine idle bullshite must be yoked to something faithful. (The autofictionists are nodding.)
writing prompt
Pretend you’re a domme and write yourself a to-do list.
a chune
“Vroom Vroom” by Charli XCX
Truly, it is insane that this is the first time a Charli XCX song has appeared in life rx. I am, according to Spotify, a top 1% Charli fan. I have started writing about the brilliance of her unreleased material more times than I can count, but the day for that essay is not yet here. I guess one of my favorite things about her is that she truly evolves and challenges an audience. Her albums trace subtle trajectories and moods (the essence of which has been flattened lately in the coinage of “my X era”), but in her case, it feels like she’s always finding the edge. The scary edge. The is-this-ugly-or-is-this-perfect edge. When I listen to a new record of hers for the first time, I feel a LOT of awareness, sometimes discomfort or confrontation. (Sweetened as always by a ridiculously high hook-to-song ratio. Like, Genesis level.) And then something about me gets bigger. And then I love it. I have no idea if that describes the relationship other people have to Charli’s music. I know plenty of fandoms only want to be given their milky little binkies of sadness and popness. Not everybody shows up to the concert like, SCARE ME GIRL. But I do. I really do. I want to be scared. That’s how you become more of yourself.
credits: small spells tarot deck by Rachel Howe
Proxies by Brian Blanchfield
“Vroom Vroom” by Charli XCX
Dear diary, I keep realizing how important it is to be able to describe the importance of what art does. (I think I’ve probably written about this many times without realizing it, which is one of the most interesting things about a running newsletter.) That importance produces value. And I think you have to believe that you’re producing value if you’re going to keep making something for YEARS and years and years. X Sarah