A Quote by Donna J. Haraway

In a sense, a cyborg has no origin story in the Western sense – a ‘final’ irony since the cyborg is also the awful apocalyptic telos of the ‘West’s’ escalating dominations of abstract individuation, an ultimate self untied at last from all dependency, a man in space.
Victor Stone's story is one of acceptance - of self and others. Also, accepting his father for the person he once was, absent from his life until he turned him into Cyborg. And acceptance of oneself in that he is both Cyborg and Victor Stone simultaneously.
It wasn't until I booked the role of Cyborg that I was sent literally everything Cyborg-related from DC comics.
I'm excited for everybody to see the books. In Justice League #15, there's a lot of other stuff too that's setup in this storyline that's going to explore Superman and Wonder Woman and Cyborg. Cyborg has a huge role in this story, actually, that sends him on a new path as well.
I'm proud that I can represent, within Cyborg, a couple of different groups. One being people of color, but also, Cyborg is a superhero that is in many ways disabled. So, being able to give representation from that end as well is something that's really powerful to me.
I actually learned about Cyborg through the cartoon shows, and I think that's how most people learn about Cyborg.
You know, anyone who wears glasses, in one sense or another, is a cyborg.
Before there was a Ronda Rousey, there was a Gina Carano and Cris Cyborg. They finally fought, and we found out who was the baddest woman on the planet, and that was Cris Cyborg. When she hits people, I'm like, 'Whoo!'
Cyborg writing must not be about the Fall, the imagination of a once-upon-a-time wholeness before language, before writing, before Man. Cyborg writing is about the power to survive, not on the basis of original innocence, but on the basis of seizing the tools to mark the world that marked them as other...
It is not just that science and technology are possible means of great human satisfaction, as well as a matrix of complex dominations. Cyborg imagery can suggest a way out of the maze of dualisms in which we have explained our bodies and our tools to ourselves.
Did you know that she was cyborg?” asked a woman in an unhidden tone of disgust. Kai stared at her, appearing confused, then let his gaze dance over the crowd. He shuffled his feet closer to the podium, a wrinkle forming on the bridge of his nose. Cinder bit the inside of her cheek and braced herself for adamant disgust. Who would ever invite a cyborg to the ball? But instead, Kai said simply, “I don’t see that her being cyborg is relevant. Next question?” Cinder’s metal fingers jolted.
The end of man (as a factual anthropological limit) is announced to thought from the vantage of the end of man (as a determined opening or the infinity of a telos ). Man is that which is in relation to his end, in the fundamentally equivocal sense of the word. Since always.
The cyborg is a kind of disassembled and reassembled, postmodern collective and personal self. This is the self feminists must code.
I've had lots of fans who come out and say, 'Listen, I can relate to Cyborg because I lost a limb,' or 'I have this cochlear implant.' It's one of those things when you actually start seeing it, when you actually start hearing about it, that made Cyborg more relevant to me than I think he ever had been up until that point.
Letting the last breath come. Letting the last breath go. Dissolving, dissolving into vast space, the light body released from its heavier form. A sense of connectedness with all that is, all sense of separation dissolved in the vastness of being. Each breath melting into space as though it were the last.
The Latin words humus, soil/earth, and homo, human being, have a common derivation, from which we also get our word 'humble.' This is the Genesis origin of who we are: dust - dust that the Lord God used to make us a human being. If we cultivate a lively sense of our origin and nurture a sense of continuity with it, who knows, we may also acquire humility.
The final story, the final chapter of western man, I believe, lies in Los Angeles.
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