My obsession with celebrities, with minor royalty. My obsession with Hello! Why do I always bring it with me on our train journeys? Why do I insist on leaving it in his study when I come to stay?
'Who are all these people?', he wants to ask me, when he sees me reading. 'Why do they matter to you?' Because they do matter to me, that much is clear. The way I read. The way I nod my head over its glossy pages, like a Jew over the Talmud. He sees, as never before, a look of absolute seriousness on my face. He sees it there: an intensity of focus only the Husserl archives would warrant.
What are you looking for?, W. says, as I turn the pages. What, in Oscar dresses and airbrushed actresses? What, in the photospreads of Queen Rania of Jordan?
Lars Iyer's Blog 