In a horny haze of seeking other publicity for my little texts, I was foolish enough to inscribe on Facebook. Maximizing the Audience… The flirt lasted not longer than two weeks. It takes time to learn not to be stupid.

With this, my last facebook message, I deactivated the ‘account’.


“Time has come, I have arrived at the famous fork in the road. Either to continue on Facebook’s flat highway, or take the steep and lonely path uphill. I have chosen.

On Facebook my little texts feel like displaced persons. I feel like a Peeping Tom. In short: Misfits is what we are. This, then, is not the place to be.

Facebook’s Highway – too fast for my kind. It reeks of the gutter, and yet – I know! – it also exudes the excitement of carnival and the pyrotechnics of lush fireworks. However, I am too much of the loner. It is not for me.

So uninscribe it shall be – deactivate. Not ‘unfriending’ the perhaps nonexistent readers, but myself.

Info suicide. Evaporating into the icy universe.”



Sierksma 6.3.16


Author: rjsiersk

Sierksma was born in Friesland, a 'county' in the northern part of the Netherlands with its own language which he does not speak and with an obstinate population to which he both belongs and does not belong. A retired Professor of Social Philosophy and Aesthetics, as a Harkness fellow he taught at Rutgers and Berkeley Universities in the USA, and at GUAmsterdam and TUDelft in the Netherlands. In 1991 he was awarded his PhD from Leiden University on the subject of 'Surveillance and Task: Labour Discipline between Utilitarianism and Pragmatism'. His books include Minima Memoria (1993), Lost View (2002 with Jan van Geest), and Litter Scent (2013). He has published poems and articles in Te Elfder Ure, Nynade, Oasis and the Architectural Annual. Half the year he lives in Haarlem, the other half he spends in la France Profonde, living ‘in his own words’ as the house out there was bought with the winnings from his essay Eternal Sin, written for the ECI Essay Prize (1993). In this blog, Sierksma's Sequences, written in English, he is peeping round his own and other people’s perspectives. Not easily satisfied with answers nor with questions, he turns his wry wit to a number of philosophical and historical issues. His aim in writing: to make parts of the world light up in his perspective - not my will, thine! Not being a thief, he has no cook, one wife, some children, one lover and three cats.

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