Root system of the site © David Noir
Root system
Empirical excavations reveal the root system of David Noir Production. Between the tortuous roots and the brambles are articles.
Escape molt | Drawing © David Noir
Pitch | Escape Scenario
Attempted social evasion | There's no room for social chatter here. Not even on a good morning. And that's just as well.
Voluptuousness of waiting | Clocks of my digital time © David Noir
The pleasure of waiting for it to bite
Start by undermining the basis of my nature. Set the moral high ground and wait for the... cement to set... the wide asses of the cows that live here...
"Fuck Balls" | Humans Without a Story | Visual © David Noir
Atheist and human, no fuss...
I'm not going to tell you what it says, because I hope it doesn't say anything, nothing that's being said anyway. No stories.
Freedom of expression of a "Pantyless" | Visual © David Noir
"Freedom of Expression" and Repugnance
No, there is no such thing as "freedom of expression", just as there are limits on freedom, it's called the law ...
Where's Charlie? | David Noir
Where's Charlie? Or cheap solidarity.
Solidarity is not the display of single-mindedness. I will not be shouted any slogan that is not mine. Not Charlie tonight, not any other day.
Self-Portrait in the Shape of Ruin | Apple Führer © David Noir | "Les Camps de l'Amor"
Self-portrait in the shape of a ruin
I'm testifying from where I am. As a good archaeologist, I create my own ruin. The loneliness of the fields of childhood is not the same as the loneliness of the fields of adulthood.
Write blood voice | So Sade | Photo © David Noir
| Writing his tongue | Speaking Blood Voice | So Sade!
Writing relieves the tension of over-thinking, stops the bleeding, cauterizes the sense, temporarily closes the still moist wound.
Return from Erosphere | Libertins pas toujours si libres | Montage © David Noir
Return from Erosphere
It is up to certain libertines to want to escape the "mawkishness of free sex" from which they claim to be exempt.
Suzanne
Suzanne
Suzanne's dead. We watched over Suzanne's body in the cold and darkness of the room of the "reanimation" service of the Oncopole of Toulouse.
