I am sending another one of my reports from the field. As stipulated, I am using the species’ own mode of transmission, their own semiology—what is referred to in these parts as “language” (though, technically speaking, they use many “languages” organized in a similar way as a system (i.e. as “language”), many “dialects” within any single language, within that many idiosyncrasies (according to the specific setting, function, and role of the enunciator), many different ways in which they are performed . . .) (As with my other reports, all throughout I have tried to use the hegemonic language.). Although this is a less secure way to proceed, I have come to concur with the assertion (which, I assume, is the underlying reason for guideline # 9) that only through the subject/object’s own native transmission can its distinctiveness and uniqueness (in some cases, its novelty) be elaborated as precisely as possible (which is not to say fully).

This, I believe, has nothing to do with the structural semiotical claim of the direct correspondence between transmission, thought, and thing. (In fact, as with our own, that is impossible). It has also nothing to do with some kind of essence expressible only in its particular domain (i.e. with a culture able to be captured only through its own mode of representation). (That would assume transmissional/semiological essences—the deconstruction of which, as we all remember, served as one of the major foundations of our culture.) (My line of thinking about this perhaps intimates that even as I’ve been implanted here for 26 years now, i.e. from my inception, I have not forgotten our ways—or fully adopted theirs.) It is just that to truly understand a subject/object—in this case, this species, this culture—one truly has to be in it—to be it: that is to say, to live as the beings in it do, to think in their modes, in their manner, to have their desires (with their objects, their force, their stirrings and frustrations), to act in their few set ways (including the exceptions), to inhabit their bodies (with its capabilities and limitations)—i.e. to exist as they do, to be totally immersed in them—that is to say, to be as they be: be the being that they are. Which, it must not be forgotten, at its core includes communicating, representing, mediating, and expressing (speaking, writing, listening, reading, gesturing, moving, touching, sensing) as they do: i.e. (for the most part) in language. Thus, even as—by maintaining a gap, a split, that gives me some room, a certain distance (which allows me to look from the outside)—I do not fully adopt their being, somehow I truly am in that being, embedded among them. I am not them (I maintain that distinction), but, in being where/when/how/what . . . they are, I be as they be.

Please kindly send the records that I’ve requested for my own viewing/listening/reading pleasure. If I were to die a terrible death, it would be the consumption of what they call “culture” in this place. Greetings to everymany back there, and may chaos, as always, chance upon an Other!

***

Report # 10.1: The Rational Complexity of Human Aggression

There is much to be admired in this species that calls itself Homo sapiens: man, human, the human being, in less technical terms. They have achieved so much in making things doable/done (in fact, the culture that has occupied the dominant position for the past century or so is premised on making things “easy”) that it is hard not to stand in awe of their accomplishments: the conversion of nature into something of use to the species, the species’ self-perpetuation through sexual reproduction, its subdivision and organization into separate manageable and defended communities (what is referred to as the “State”) (at times cooperating), the transport of “economic” “goods” and their distribution, the overcoming of distance (i.e. the conquest of space), the retention of things lost (mostly through writing) (i.e. the conquest of time), even the cultivation of the intellect, the arts, and culture (sometimes for their own sake) . . . “Civilization,” they call it.

This species of concern likes to distinguish itself from everything else that occupies the space that it inhabits (i.e. the “earth”). To it—the dominant being that it knows, the hegemon, the “crowned glory” of what it calls the “world”—this is a justified practice. The other earthly species that approximates it the most—animals, beasts—are denigrated by the very practice that claims to show caring and affection for them: the process called “domestication” in which animals are displaced from their “natural” habitats into human homes or public locations where they are (usually) to serve as spectacle (for all the ways in which they are like humans, just less so)—making them human (but inferior) in either case.

Human distinction, this human sense of superiority, is not based solely on the negative observation (by the human) of other creatures (in this case, animals) when it has filtered them through its own categories, when, in other words, it has seen what is other through its own human lens, reduced all the ways in which the other is different—through the use of tropes, especially metaphor and analogy; in general by the mere instance of representation—to something similar, familiar to—seeming of—just like humans (anthropomorphism, in a word). The human species, superior that it is, also claims to be able to make a positive argument for its superiority.

I am a much more complex being, the human says. I am more fully “evolved” (a word that in all of its implications for humans differs so strikingly from its equivalent in ours that the two words, as equivalent translations, are almost completely unrecognizable). Not just in the way I think that enables me (more than any animal, the human adds proudly) to carry out the activities that render my survival and sustenance practicable—but with the other things that I use thinking for—which, the human is not embarrassed to avow, lead to the truly great triumphs (and the hallmarks of strength) of “civilization” that is my own: the development of language, its teaching and learning, the creation of lasting relationships (with other humans), the erection of institutions (that ensure the stability of relations), the use of concepts grounded in “reason,” the retention of memory through the (usually written) record, the study of all these and their further development, further “technology,” further innovation, their spilling over into culture, art, the “humanities,” onto ever further unimagined complexities that my inherently complex constitution—my complex brain—is capable of . . .

All other creatures that “mother” “nature” has spawned, the human continues, I love—like a guardian loves a child. But (the human is sure to add) they simply cannot do what I do. I am set apart, he asserts. I possess layers and layers of complexity above and beyond all other creatures on earth. Simply put, I have the best brain. Thus my place on top of the hierarchy. Thus my unique position in the world. As its epitome, its crowning accomplishment, the model to be imitated and revered, the key to its mysteries—I—man—am king of the world.

There is a sense in which this human claim is true. Although I continue to be unsure whether “complexity” is the right term for it (perhaps humans don’t have a word for what I mean), humans do seem to create, experience, intimate—do/make—things in excess of and beyond (which is not to say above) animal activity. While the animal seems to act mostly by and is almost totally preoccupied with instinct, something else—perhaps many things (including instinct)—motivates and preoccupies the human. The intermingling, confusing, and meshing of all these things—attempted, according to some human schools of thought, to be mediated by language—is perhaps the warrant for the claim of human “complexity.” Which is often followed by the claim that this complexity (at least ideally) is presided over by "rationality," the faculty that the human claims is uniquely its own: "human reason."

If true, this claim is to be proven by and manifested in most, if not all, human activities, i.e. in the things that humans do. And, indeed, there is one such activity that serves as a strong and solid proof for it. If the animal exhibits aggression (by which is meant hostility and offense against another, which usually amounts to violence) purely out of instinct, the human does it in a rationally complex way. The animal commits acts of aggression for the sole purpose of surviving, usually in search of food to eat (thus its targets are limited to its appetite). There are, of course, other motivations, e.g. the discharge of libido, defense of oneself when disturbed in one’s habitat, etc.—but these things too are part of animal survival, or are at least related to the instinct (related to what the human terms “need”).

The human also does these things—and more: i.e. in more areas of life (since its self-claimed complexity has entitled it to more “needs,” a widened category), for many other reasons/motivations/drives (other than base instinct)—leading, quantitatively (in addition to qualitatively) speaking, to more aggression. In other words, not just aggression against animals (and plants) for food, but aggression against animals (and plants) for aesthetic (e.g. clothes), sporting (e.g. hunting), cultural (e.g. movies), intellectual (e.g. medical experiments), etc. purposes. Not just aggression against animals (and plants) for food, but aggression against humans (in the form of the exploitation of “labor” (sometimes in a very immediate sense, as when the boss says, “I don’t care if you’re sick. Get back to work!”)) for food. Not just aggression against humans for food, but aggression against humans as a simple—brute—part (taken as a given, a “fact”) of how the “economy” works as it provides all sorts of “goods” that humans (some more than others) supposedly “need”: in other words, aggression against humans for (seeing as everything has become a “need”) everything. Aggression against all (plants, animals, humans . . .) in everything (i.e. in all aspects of life) for everything (i.e. for whatever is deemed to be a “need”). “Impersonal” and seemingly unaffected (indifferent, negligent) aggression. Aggression (no longer knowing its victim) (very different from the animal targeting particular preys, at particular instances) directed against whomever it can be directed—seeing as the human is transformable into what is called human “labor”—which, apparently, is universally “appetizing.”

The animal will act out of instinct, when it feels the need, feels hungry—and when it catches a prey. The human, the human develops this whole system (what is called the “economy”) that plans and carries out massive aggression. It develops a whole hierarchy of “persons” (the “career ladder” the places humans to play specific roles), builds “factories” (not all “industries” have factories, but virtually all “workplaces” are analogous to how factories work, e.g. the input-output of force, the arrangement of humans in it, the regulations and goals . . .), even extends all over the world (in a phenomenon called “globalization”) just to be able to commit aggression—which allows it to bundle together all the “work” performable and therefrom collect an excess (“profit,” in “corporate” terms).

The pooling together of different types of work (from all types of people, from all over the world), the forced imposition of a certain form on it (the transformation of work into “labor”), its forced fitting into the specific input-output system that it happens to be in as part of the larger global input-output system (with an excess) (“capitalism”)—all this violence, all this aggression! (Interestingly enough, humans have a mythical creature that eerily recalls this basic mechanism: the “vampire.”) This, however, is not only carried out as it is, as though it were how things “naturally” worked. It is planned—as testified to by the great inequality of who reaps the benefits from the aggression (what, by the way, is referred to by humans as “production”), betraying a plan (or at least a system, betraying that it is systematic) of “distribution” on top of “production” (in which the largest beneficiaries are almost always the same people (resulting into the wretched and shameful misery of the vast majority)).

Humans moreover seem to have a talent—a knack—for devising ways to increase and improve the means by which they do things, including the means by which they inflict aggression, increasing it on a massive scale. Take, for example, the phenomenon called “globalization” where different States—virtually all—are able (in most cases, coerced) to participate in the world economic system modeled after the system of the dominant State (i.e. “capitalism”). This phenomenon has been made possible by “wage and price differentials” between different States. These differentials to an extent reflect the different levels of development (e.g. the extent to which “industrialization” has succeeded) and the different natural compositions (e.g. the resources indigenous to the particular State, the landscape . . .) of the different States. The major source for them, however, is the difference in working and living conditions (the standards expected/demanded thereof).

It is in this way that poorer States get to “capitalize” on the lack of worker “rights.” By having more “attractive” production conditions (low wage, long hours, cruel conditions) for goods (more easily) designated as “needs,” poorer States get to offer lower prices to the world (now wholly participant in “globalization”). As a result, most “goods” consumed—of which the wealthier States are the largest consumers—now come from the poorer States—the States that do not even bother to feign concern for their workers—where exploitation—aggression—is thus at its highest and most intense. For their part, the wealthier States—by ensuring that their own workers have a modicum of rights (protecting them (technically speaking) from abuse)—get to turn a blind eye—even excuse—aggression inflicted upon the workers of the poorer States—from where, it must be said again, most of the “goods” they consume come from. It is thus an amazing—and uniquely human—achievement that someone consuming virtually anything at all in a wealthy State gets to support, patronize, and even himself inflict abuse, injury, exploitation—aggression—on someone else oceans away—something an animal, as of yet, is incapable of. The “complexity” of humans with which they exceed other beings on earth thus do not only provide them with more domains of aggression; it also gives them more means: “complexity” as a true avenue for aggression.

Human aggression is not all “economic,” however. As already mentioned, the cause/motivation for aggression in humans is not solely “need” (the widely expanded category) and it is deployed not only in the “economic” sphere. The other aspects of life that the human claims as his own—all those other dimensions that testify to his unique “complexity”—are also shot through and through with aggression. Take, for example, what is referred to as “love,” something “beyond” instinct and even “beyond” need (that fabricated human category) that the human claims is unique to the species and which he prizes as what makes him deserving of his position in the world. It is not uncommon for a human (usually a “man”) to abuse another (say, a “woman”) he is intimate with (someone he “loves”)—whether it be by cheating on her, taking her for granted, making her serve him, work for him (as a “wife,” for example), raise his children (as a “mother”), physically beating her up . . . In fact, the abuse of another—especially those that one claims to love—is quite common among humans: aggression in all sort of ways in varying but definitively felt intensities: aggression against the emotions, aggression against the mind, aggression in exploitation (in miniature: the family), aggression in silence, verbal aggression, semiotical aggression, sexual aggression, brute physical aggression . . .

Loving human relationships—the thing supposed to set the human apart (deservingly so!)—is actually inherently suffused with aggression, is perhaps even characterized by it—in fact allows aggression and provides the ground for it as the abuser/aggressor afterwards is able to say: “I’m sorry. I’m not perfect. Forgive me?” “But I do all these other things for you! You ought to understand.” “We’re in a relationship. People expect certain things from us . . .” “Separate? That’s what you want? But what about the kids, the fruits of our love?”—and, of course: “You love me, don’t you? Deep inside, you really understand . . .”—perhaps even: “But I did that out of love (for you)”—with which—because of “love”—this human—this human being committing—is guilty of—acts and acts of aggression—is actually able to make a case, i.e. is able to rationally—with reason—convince the other to accept the aggression inflicted on her! If we grant it its claim, the human has indeed developed layers and layers of complexity in excess of and beyond all other beings, including the one that resembles it the most (animals)—and in all those layers, the human has only discovered further (complex) dimensions and further (rational) warrants for aggression.

Yet perhaps nothing epitomizes more the rational complexity of aggression in humans as the weapons that they’ve built specifically for it (not to mention the whole complex of “corporations” and “institutions” surrounding—“profiting” from—them). This is exemplified by what is perhaps the most awe-inspiring of them all—in fact, of all human inventions in general (as of yet): the atom bomb. The atom bomb had the concentration camp as its precursor, yet even the concentration camp is an “animal” compared to the “human” that is the atom bomb. Similar to the concentration camp in involving planning and organization, the atom bomb was nonetheless an intentional product of the “highest” of all “intellectual” endeavors (science)—the “highest” (sub)field at that (physics)—that, moreover, proved to be (in being restricted to and carried out entirely in it) its pure and perfect (capturing and “realizing” all of its power (all that it can do)) instantiation, evading the shortcomings of the concentration camp (as with its reliance on individual human soldiers’ judgment). Akin to the concentration camp in targeting specific sections of the population, the atom bomb nonetheless had much more massive effects and as such is both precise and imprecise—i.e. precise only up to a certain point: the level of the molar, i.e. with targets that are large. If the concentration camp could perform massively with elements it has examined individually (“Are you a Jew?), the atom bomb treats a whole mass as an individual that is its enemy (“Where is Japan?”). The atom bomb is thus both “personal” (i.e. targeted against specific “persons”) and "impersonal" (the “persons” are targeted inasmuch as they are part of (or happen to be in) a mass).

Virtually all human weapons encounter a moment of choice, the moment when a decision becomes required to be made (whether the weapon is to be used or not). With the atom bomb (as perhaps another indication of how “purely” “scientific” it is), this moment becomes so detached from the reality of what is being decided on that it is but a hollow choice, as though—removed from its actual deployment, its targets, its consequences, the reality of its effects—it was no choice at all. The utterance of a word, perhaps a deep breath, and the pressing of a button (thousands of miles away!) are all that are required of the user of the weapon. With that, the act is done—and a massive act of atrocity—unimaginable aggression—is inflicted on the world.

With the atom bomb, the rational complexity of humans has reached so high a point, has so fulfilled itself, so perfected itself—become so complex—that it actually no longer needs rationality for its complex effects to be deployed and rationality to be demonstrated. “Do it!” It explodes. (What happens where it explodes, who cares? We won! The threat is gone and (our way of) life is preserved.) That is all.—Such massive, intense, “world”-changing—“complex”—act of aggression decided upon with detached rationality (“They’re the enemy, sir”) and rationalized afterwards. What an awesome human achievement! Rationality detached from rationality. Aggression—the same bare instinct—consummated at its most complex.

LINK: Das Auto ist am Ende. Das Verschwinden des Automobils (von Hansgeorg Hermann), FAZ, 18. Juli 2007

GOR: McLuhan sagte ja, dass das Auto eine Amputation der Beine mit sich bringt, also diese Bodenhaftung durch einen virtuellen Bezug zur Realität ersetzt. Da wir uns aber in einem Zeitalter der Re-Sensualisierung befinden, wie wir ja bereits diagnostiziert haben, prophezeite McLuhan schon in den 60er Jahren, dass sich die neueren Generationen vom Auto verabschieden werden. Da gibt es auch ein ganz spannendes Buch zum Thema Virtualisierung des Raums durch Mobilität im 19. Jahrhundert durch Züge, Straßenbahnen, Shopping Malls etc.: „Window Shopping: Cinema and the Postmodern“ von Anne Friedberg. Sie spricht da vom "mobilzed virtual gaze".

TU: Ja, spontan dachte ich, während ich das über Virilios Thesen las: stimmt, klar, hat recht - aber dann. beim zweiten Nachdenken, merkte ich, daß in dem, was er denkt, gerade was die fehlenden Bodenhaftung, usw. angeht, dass das doch eine recht konservative, von Heidegger herkommende Kulturkritik ist, eine, die, was das Vokabular angeht, zwar auf der Höhe ist, von ihrem Substrat her aber ziemlich abgegriffen, oder ?

GOR: Ich denke man muss da nicht unbedingt in so Kategorien wie progressiv-konservativ denken. Auch Baudrillards Kulturkritik kommt ja von einer Sehnsucht nach der verlorenen Realität/Bodenhaftung her.

TU: Da kennst Du Dich wohl besser aus, aber ich denke, dass es bei Baudrillard ein bisschen anders ist...Aber andererseits ist Heidegger nach dem Krieg immer auch der Philosoph der Franzosen gewesen, die sich, nach all dem Rationalismus und der Aufklärung in den Jahrhunderten davor, bei ihm ihren Bedarf nach "Boden" und "Erde" holten...

GOR: Das stimmt zumindest für Derrida. Bei Baudrillard wars glaub eher der historische Materialismus a la Marx/Hegel. Virillio ist ja eigentlich Architekt und hat auch Urbanistik studiert. Ist ja klar, dass ihn Themen wie Verkehr, Stadtplanung und so weiter interessieren. Was die Kulturkritik, die durch die Architektur inspiriert sind betrifft, gibt es da auch etwa den amerikanischen Architekturkritiker Lewis Mumford („Technichs and Civilization“, 1934) den man in Deutschland kaum kennt. Mumfod setzte den Beginn des mechanischen Denkens und somit der technischen Evolution mit der Erfindung der Uhr gleich, sozusagen als Prototyp aller weiteren technischen Erfindungen, inklusive des Buchdrucks. Ein weiterer Architekturhistoriker, der auch kulturkritische Texte schrieb war der Schweizer Sigfried Giedion, mit seinen beiden Hauptwerken „Space, Time and Architecture“ (1941) und „Mechanization Takes Command“ (1948).

TU: Ja, wahrscheinlich hat Baudrillard gerade der Marxismus vor unbewußtem Blut-und-Boden-Denken bewahrt...

GOR: Mit der Kritik am mechanisierten Denken und der zunehmenden Technologisierung der Welt haben doch so Denker wie Virilio oder auch Mumford vollkommen Recht...

TU: Ja, klar, das auf jeden Fall ! Ich meinte nur, daß man darauf achten muß, auf welchem ideologischen Fundament mancher Denker seine Kulturkritik errichtet hat - wo also, im Sinne Lacans, das Reale des jeweiligen Denkens "begraben" ist"...

GOR: Ja man muss das wahrscheinlich jeweils spezifizieren. Die Heidegger/Derrida Schiene ist jedenfalls sprachlicher Natur und gehört eher in den philologischen Bereich, während ich Virilio eben eher zu Mumford/Giedion (Architektur=Bodenhaftung) und Baudrillard zum historischen Materialismus (Materie=Bodenhaftung) einordne. Baudrillard ist für mich nämlich eine Art Historiker des VERSCHWINDENS der Materie, daher auch kein wirklicher marxistischer Materialist mehr. Virilio und Baudrillard sind jedenfalls beide von McLuhan beeinflusst und der wiederum ist ja, wie wir beide wissen, ungefähr genauso substanziell konservativ wie Zizek. Jetzt kann man sich natürlich fragen, wieso sind mit die bedeutendsten Philosophen des 20. Jahrhunderts alle von Ihrer Substanz her konservativ?

TU: Eine gute Frage...Das ist ein Riesenfeld...Ich denke, dass die Philosophen, die von Heidegger herkommen, Derrida also, aber auch Levinas, sich letztlich gar nicht für die Sprache interessieren, so wie sich (ich weiß, das widerspricht dem Augenschein) auch Heidegger letztlich nicht für die Sprache interessiert hat, das sieht man genau da, wo er sich mit Literatur beschäftigt hat, mit Trakl, Rilke, usw. - da geht es nie um das Wie der Sprache, wie der Dichter also schreibt und spricht, sondern darum, was er sagt, um die (angebliche) Message, die Lehre; aber nicht um den Sinn der Buchstaben, den buchstäblichen Sinn.

GOR: Ich glaube von einer "Blut - und Boden Ideologie" zu reden, wie du das ja hier andeutest, würde ja in Richtung Faschismus gehen. Der Faschismus hat ja laut Zizek eine ähnliche Disposition: "fascism as a shock absorber for the sudden exposure of capitalist alienation and deterritorialzation—a desire to recuperate the lost sense of community and shared sociality" --->"shock absorber" für die verlorene Bodenhaftung.

TU: "shock absorber" - das ist gut! Ja, so in die Richtung meinte ich das: Der Faschist, in diesem Sinne, will den Boden (der Tatsachen), nicht die Sprache. Der Faschist als Patient gedacht wäre eine Art Zwangsneurotiker, der alles tut, um nicht den Halt zu verlieren, und ihn gerade dadurch verliert...Und die Sprache Heideggers (auch Hegels) und Derridas mit ihren permanenten Wiederholungen und Schleifen hat doch auch so einen zwanghaften Charakter.

GOR: Ich glaube aber dass zum Faschismus noch was anderes dazugehört - nämlich nicht nur diese Sehnsucht nach den verlorenen Traditionen, der entfremdeten Sinnlichkeit und den klaren Identitäten. Womit ich sagen will dass deine Gleichung "Faschismus = Sehnsucht nach Bodenhaftung" nicht aufgeht. Das ausschlaggebende beim Faschismus, um mal in psychoanalytischen Terminologien zu bleiben, ist das Ineinanderfallen von Öffentlichkeit und Subjekt, deren Gleichsetzung nämlich und zwar in einem "pathologischen", d.h. psychotischen Rahmen. Die Sehnsucht nach Bodenhaftung ist jedenfalls nicht pathologisch - im Gegenteil, eher gesund, denn die Psychose entsteht ja aus fehlender Bodenhaftung ;)

TU: Nee, gerade umgedreht: Der Faschismus, seinem Erscheinungsbild nach, ist nicht pathologisch, sondern - das ist ja das Schlimme - er ist so normal: Boden, Identität, klare Grenzen, usw.

GOR: Also deine Definition von Faschismus hinkt doch arg!

TU: Wieso ? Gar nicht ! Ist doch kein Wunder, daß ein Faschist wie Heidegger sich im Schwarzwald so wohlgefühlt hat...Bodenhaftung...die Erdscholle...

GOR: Dann wären ja alle Landwirte und Handwerker Faschisten ...

TU: Nein, das nicht: Der Unterschied ist, daß die Leute, die wirklich bodenverhaftet sind, gar nicht darüber nachdenken, daß sie es sind - genau diese Leute hat doch Heidegger als die "Uneigentlichen" angepöbelt (s. "Sein und Zeit"); schlimm sind dagegen genau jene, die Bodenhaftung WOLLEN (und sich dabei, wie Heidegger, als die "Eigentlichen" fühlen).

GOR: Ok, also die, die die Bodenhaftung längst verloren haben (Hitler ---> unklare Identität) und "zwanghaft" nach ihr suchen. Gut, da stimm ich mit Dir überein. Jedenfalls ist der Ausgangspunkt jedoch eine vom Boden abgehobene, und daher  psychotische Persönlichkeitsstruktur.

TU: Ja, das ist der Ausgangspunkt: Es reicht schon, bloß zu DENKEN, daß man die Bodenhaftung verloren hat - schon ist man Faschist...

GOR: ...aber die Bodenhaftung zu HABEN ist nicht faschistoid sondern normal ;)

TU: Ja, genau, DAS ist der Punkt !

In zijn Technology and the Character of Contemporary Life wil Albert Borgmann inzichtelijk maken dat er anologieën van de kracht der natuur zichtbaar zijn in andere zaken en in het bijzonder in de moderne techniek. Zo zoekt hij naar ‘focale dingen en praktijken’ in de modern-technologische omgeving.

[I]n het dagelijks leven worden we voortdurend geconfronteerd met het feit dat de mens slechts een tweederangs machine is. Een ingewikkelde en zeker méér dan mechanische machine, maar vol met gebreken. Temidden van de ‘gemaakte’ moderne techniek beseffen wij slechts ‘geworden’ te zijn. De schrijver Harry Mulish zei eens over de techniek dat die reusachtig wordt en de mensen er als leeggezogen dwergen tussen zitten.

In zijn Die Technik und die Kehre stelt Heidegger de instrumentale of anthropologische bepaling van techniek ter discussie. Deze bepalingen stellen dat techniek een middel tot een doel is of dat techniek een product is van het menselijk handelen en zijn in feite juist (‘richtig’). Echter, hiermee wordt het wezen van de techniek niet blootgelegd.

De informatisering van ons wereldbeeld wordt door Heidegger - door Achterhuis getypeerd als één van de belangrijkste en grootste denkers van de twintigste eeuw - in zijn Gelassenheit gekoppeld aan gedachteloosheid die de hedendaagse mens zou kenmerken. Gedachteloosheid als “onrustbarende gast die in onze huidige wereld overal in- en uitgaat”.

[Er zijn] duidelijke parallellen tussen Buber, Heidegger en Anders; Buber neemt een toenemende en overwoekerende Het-wereld en een bijkomende afnemende relatiekracht waar, Heidegger een toenemend opvorderend bestel van mens en natuur en een bijkomende vervreemding van de werkelijkheid en Anders een toenemende (zelf)verdinglijking van de mens en de bijkomende dehumanisering van de mensheid. Uiteindelijk schuilt de duidelijkste overeenkomst tussen Buber, Heidegger en Anders mijns inziens in hun bezorgdheid om een afnemende relatiekracht.

He's got almost everything except for a Diamond essay. And really, do we need more talk about reading the Tractatus resolutely? I'm looking forward to looking through this.

And for the fans of philosophy on the continent...

Fark Yaralari's blog of continenal philosophy books

He's also got a good collection of stuff on Wittgenstein (including Kripke!) and some Husserl, as well as a few bits and pieces on Kant (including The Bounds of Sense!). Support this awesome Turk who gives us philosophy.

Eine ähnliche Rezeptionstendenz gibt es im übrigen seit einiger Zeit auch bei Heidegger: er ist jetzt nicht mehr nur der geniale verehrte und verhasste Geist, sondern ebenso der feige Nazi und der heuchlerische Frauenheld. Auch in diesem Fall müsste man - um wirklich mit dem Verstehen zu beginnen - vom phantasmatischen Kern ausgehen, der primär in seinem Vollzug des Denkens, und nicht in seinen politischen und amourösen Verstrickungen, zu entblößen sein wird. Das heißt zum Beispiel: Für ihn war der Nationalsozialismus eine Versuchung aus Gründen seines Denkens; die Beteiligung an der "Bewegung" war ein (kläglicher) Moment seiner riskanten Lebens-Investition ins Denken. Die Grube, in die dann Leute wie Emmanuel Faye ("Heidegger. Die Einführung des Nationalsozialismus in die Philosophie") fallen, manifestiert sich in folgendem Fehlschluss: Sein Denken führt Heidegger zum Nationalsozialismus; also ist sein Denken im Grunde nazistisch. Einen Fehlschluss dieser Art könnte man im übrigen auch bezüglich Kafka behaupten (und wurde natürlich schon behauptet): Das Schreiben führte Kafka in die Depression; also ist sein Werk im Grunde krank, ein Produkt seiner abnormalen psychischen Konstitution. - Dies sind natürlich alles nur Dummheiten. Dummheiten allerdings, auf die man von außen leicht verfallen kann, wenn man noch nie eine "innere" (d.h. teilnehmende) Erfahrung mit dem Denken resp. mit Literatur gemacht hat.

In Geschlecht II Derrida comments that, for Heidegger, there is only ever the 'hand' in the singular.  Hand for Heidegger, is not the physical appendage.  Apes do not have hands.  Interestingly, Derrida, commenting on his style of reading in Ousia and Gramme (in Margins), comments that he reads with two hands.  From memory (I don't have the book with me), he makes the point in explicit contrast to Heidegger.  He comments briefly on hands in the Amy Kofman film, Derrida, mentioning that he has just written a book on hands.  (I presume he means On Touching?)

In everyday language, we refer to things as being 'second-hand', books, furniture, even knowledge.  In some contexts it may be an expression of disdain, on others, some kind of fetish perceived to be more valuable.  Second-hand knowledge is perceived to be not as good as first-hand.  Where as second-hand furniture or a second-hand book is installed in a new context, or inscribed with a new name.  Do not interesting inscriptions on the inside cover of second books make such a book more valuable?  A series of archives, inscriptions and signatures, all by means of the hand.  I wonder if in these everyday usages there is something of what Derrida intimates at.

Derrida quotes Borges in Violence and Metaphysics to the effect that the history of philosophy is but the history of several metaphors.  At the time, he is speaking of light, with regard to Levinas, and the 'violence of light'.  Is not the hand, another?

Desi fundamentul de la care acest articol ar fi trebuit sa se revendice era interactionarea buclucasa dintre Occident si restul lumii, in termeni de realpolitik, treptat el a alunecat intr-o cvasi-analiza paradigmatica. Asadar, demersul de fata se doreste a fi -mai mult sau mai putin- o reiterare a problematicii postulate de stiintele sociale postmoderne, o intrebare care adanceste cu atat mai mult criza epistemica a Occidentului, iar nu o solutie pentru o ghicitoare fara raspuns.

Plecand de la premisa ideatica a genealogiei unei structuri sociale, in cazul acesta civilizatia Occidentala, se cuvine sa precizam ca fiecare comunitate isi enunta propriul raison d’etre sub forma unei Legi, fundament implicit a tot ceea ce ulterior comunitatea respectiva va gasi demn de a construi. O astfel de baza constitutiva este, in mod necesar, sacrosancta si dincolo de orice dubiu daca e ca societatea sa se conserve si sa triumfe. Totodata, la randul ei, Legea este supusa acestui mecanism genealogic, necesitand o instanta exterioara si explicita simplului fapt al promulgarii. In genere, pentru ca o lege sa devina Lege, ea nu trebuie elaborata si promulgata in numele celor care chiar au initiat acest demers, ci trebuie sa isi reclame apartenenta, descendenta dintr-un principiu superior si obiectiv.

Avand acestea in vedere si urmarind evolutia paradigmaticii occidentale, se poate afirma ca, in mare, se pot distinge trei “hegemonii” ideatice, rasfrante in trei faze ale acestei civilizatii. Astfel, pentru prima forma de coeziune a gandirii occidentale, pentru civilizatia greaca, princiul hegemonic era “Unul”, principiu transcendent si absolut, principiu spre care intreaga societate era obligata metafizic sa tinda. Mai tarziu, cand hegemonia “Unului” si-a pierdut sustinerea, societatea romana, ridicata pe ruinele fostei paradigme grecesti a postulat hegemonia principiala a conceptului de “Natura”, principiu imanent cu care societatea era obligata moral sa se armonizeze. In cele din urma, odata cu zorii modernismului, insusi principiul “Naturii” s-a surpat, iar in vidul hegemonic lasat in urma, ganditorii occidentali au implantat principiul “Constiintei/Ratiunii”, principiu prezent in insasi esenta fiintei umane, principiu ce trebuia doar cultivat si exteriorizat in plan concret.

Din punct de vedere al acestei framantari epistemice a Occidentului, Legea a suferit -ca baza constitutiva a unei societati- si ea modificari din punct de vedere al genealogiei. Astfel, de-a lungul timpului s-a considerat ca Legea are un fundament, un punct de articulare rasfrant fie sub forma unei instante transcendente, fie a unei instante naturale, fie avand ca instanta ratiunea. Oricare dintre aceste instante si-a asumat, in general, doua pretentii imutabile: cea de universalitate si cea de necesitate. In momentul cand una dintre aceste pretentii a atins un punct de failibilitate, intreaga paradigma si putere a Legii a succombat.

Trecand de acest scurt istoric al fundamentarii civilizatiei occidentale, invariabil ajungem in clipa de fata. Cum se explica, oare, din punct de vedere paradigmatic confuzia si zbaterea actuala a Occidentului? Sa fie datorita faptului ca “Ratiunea” a succombat, laolalta cu Occidentul? Da, dar e insuficient si impropriu exprimat. In fapt, ceea ce s-a petrecut nu a fost simplul faliment al paradigmei moderniste, intemeiate pe bazele ratiunii auto-suficiente. Colapsul unei instante de emitere a Legii nu ar fi provocat asemenea vraiste filosofica, ci in mod sigur ar fi dat nastere unei noi paradigme, unui nou mod de intemeiere a autoritatii Legii. Ceea ce s-a petrecut, teoretic si practic, a fost sfaramarea schemei de constituire a paradigmei, pierderea increderii in insasi ideea de paradigma, oricare ar fi aceasta. Nu o paradigma s-a frant, in cazul postmodernitatii, ci chiar Paradigma.

Astfel, Occidentul se trezeste in situatia de a fi incapabil sa construiasca un Weltanschauung dupa schema clasica a constituirii, id est: fundament paradigmatic obiectiv si superior => autoritate paradigmatica => Lege => civilizatie. Indiferent de ce fundament prim va gasi sau va incerca, in van, sa reinvie Occidentul, el este condamnat la a nu mai putea sa dea nastere unei paradigme satisfacatoare dupa standardele anterioare. Pierzand aceasta capacitate, Occidentul este fara nici un dubiu scos din marele joc al pretentiei la universalitate si este inscris pe calea ireversibila a atomizarii, tribalizarii si micro-narativizarii pana la disolutia cvasi-totala.

Totusi, privind situatia in mod realist, nu poate fi vorba de vreun fatalism eschatologic precum cel propovaduit de scoala de la Frankfurt. Pe cand proponentii acesteia credeau in imutabilitatea unui astfel de destin, o serie de ganditori vad tocmai opusul. Pentru Occident, “moartea” paradigmatica poate fi un inceput nou, o virtualitate indefinita si nelimitata de a zamisli un nou tip de civilizatie, de cultura, desprins de toate greselile si gropile in care Vestul a cazut pana acum. Practic si teoretic, Occidentul ar putea deveni o teocratie, o tehnocratie, o plutocratie radicala, o utopie tribalista … posibilitatile sunt practic nelimitate. O idee ce se impune, totusi, este ca Occidentul asa cum il stim nu mai este si nici nu poate fi inviat. Poate fi creat sau nascut …

Totusi, de unde galceava contemporana dintre Occident si restul lumii? Sa fie o reiterare a dogmei lui Schmitt? Nicidecum, eventual o vulgarizare malitioasa a acesteia, in cel mai bun caz. Confruntarea, ciocnirea (hai sa facem hatarul lui Huntington) dintre civilizatii are o problematica relativ simpla: o societate muribunda, decadenta si degenerata care si-a pierdut increderea nu doar in propriile paradigme, ci in insasi capacitatea de a se mula si a urma o paradigma (oricare ar fi aceasta) se vede confruntata cu o serie de alte civilizatii al caror parcurs epistemic se afla in stadiu incipient.

De pilda, in izbirea sa de Islam, Occidentul resimte o paradigma intemeiata pe hegemonia principiala a “Unului”, a instantei transcendente datatoare de Lege. In confruntarea cu acest Orient, Occidentul resimte nostalgia teocratiei, nostalgia originilor, fapt datorita caruia ii este deosebit de greu sa-si gestioneze raportul de alteritate. Atitudinile sale sunt diverse, radicale si nocive atat pentru el, cat si pentru oponent. In confuzia ce il domina, dovada a bolii sale, Occidentul reactioneaza relativ infantil si stupid: fie isi deschide bratele atat de larg incat si le frange, fie le indreapta amenintator, cu pumnul strans spre Orient. Tensiunile interne ale Vestului, cauzate de permeabilitatea sa cvasi-totala, de patrunderea vestitorilor unei paradigme diferite, unei paradigme islamice nu sunt, in sine, cauze ale declinului … ele sunt efecte.

Islamul patrunde acolo unde gaseste un desert, un spatiu gol si nepopulat, iar Occidentul -din punct de vedere paradigmatic si ideatic- este tocmai un astfel de desert. Problema esentiala a Occidentului nu este cu Islamul, ci cu sine insusi. Oricand el ar fi pregatit, dominat de o noua paradigma, de un tip nou de paradigma, Occidentul ar fi capabil sa se scuture de influentele externe fara nici un efort. Problema sa cea mare este ca doreste sa impuna, prin forta ce i-a mai ramas, lipsa sa de orientare si sens intregii lumi. Acest avant, unic in istorie, de impunere a unei non-paradigme este generator de dezastru pe multiple planuri. Incercand sa se re-legitimeze, Occidentul mimeaza si umbla in travestiul unor principii de mult frante in ansamblul sau. Acest travesti functioneaza pe termen scurt, insa dupa un timp nu doar ca se rasfrange asupra celor indocrinati, din exterior, ci loveste cu forta dubla in interiorul sau, avand in vedere ca Islamul este un “dusman” circumstantial, de moment, iar nu unul ontologic. Singurul adversar constant, absolut si omniprezent pentru Occident a fost propria-i slabiciune. Depinde doar de el cum si-o poate infrange.

E de la sine inteles ca Islamul nu are nici o legitimitate din punct de vedere occidental, nici un drept de a-si impune propria paradigma in lebensraum-ul vestic, insa, la randul sau, nici Occidentul nu isi poate aroga vreo farama de legitimitate in a-si impune non-paradigma sau travestiurile necrofere in lebensraum-ul altei civilizatii, dominata eminamente si absolut de catre o paradigma totalizanta. Cei care fac apel la eliberarea Occidentului de influenta islamica ce patrunde tiptil-tiptil, esueaza in a face diferenta dintre boala si simptomele ei. Cedarea paradigmatica in fata Islamului este un simptom, un simptom vizibil al bolii de care sufera Vestul. Tratand simptomul, eliminandu-l cu forta, nu se rezolva nimic, caci boala ramane, desi nu se poate vedea. Solutia rezida in eliminarea bolii … simptomele vor disparea de la sine. O paradigma straina nu se poate insinua acolo unde paradigma autohtona este puternica. Dupa cum spunea si Heidegger, "nur noch ein Gott kann uns retter" ("doar un Zeu ne mai poate salva").

Articol preluat de pe Insurgiam, anti-blog al sus-semnatului.

These critical measures provide Derrida with the resources for his later analysis of Marx's texts. Now, given Derrida's invocation of The Anaximander Fragment on several important occasions (Différance , Ousia and Grammē, Geschlect II), that we should pay close attention to the way in which Derrida reads this essay. As I've already suggested, this text brings together many of the themes which persistently engage Derrida over the entire course of his work.

The reading of Blanchot's essay - itself only 3 pages - begins following Derrida raising the question of the 'end of history', the curious déjà vu that was the "daily bread" of students and philosophers of post-war France. Here, within square brackets, (indicating material Derrida did not present at the conference which formed the basis of the book - but was this material nonetheless already written?), Derrida reads Blanchot's and Heidegger's essays.

Blanchot's essay proposes three distinct, irreconcilable, disjointed voices in Marx, disparate, but nonetheless necessary and held together. "Since Marx", writes Blanchot (and quoth Derrida), "everyone who speaks or writes can not fail to feel himself subjected" to the three voices of Marx, as to a plurality of demands. To not feel so would be to "feel [one]self failing in everything". (p.17)

This "since" for Derrida "marks a place and a time that doubtless precedes us, but so as to be as much in front of us as before us. Since the future, then, since the past as absolute future". Here we have the Heideggerian formula of the existential grasping of the past as a possible future. Derrida, therefore also reads this as the injunction of Marx's voices (and Blanchot's essay).

The maintenance (in French, maintenant is 'now') of the disparate voices of Marx signifies for Derrida the joining of a "radically dis-jointed time" (17). This leads Derrida to consider the translations and meanings of Hamlet's formula, that time is 'out of joint'. Whether it is le temps, l'histoire, or le monde which is out of joint, or all of these together.

Derrida here pulls of an interesting alliance. He reads the discourse of Hamlet in the terms of Heidegger's Anaximander Fragment - though we have not read this yet. He foreshadows his reading, mingling their language (well, in translation at least).

Hamlet ... [is called] to do right, to render justice, and to redress history, the wrong of history. There is tragedy, there is essence of the tragic only on the condition of this originarity, more precisely of this pre-originary and properly spectral anteriority of the crime - the crime of the other, a misdeed whose event and reality, whose truth can never present themselves in flesh and blood, but can only allow themselves to be presumed, reconstructed, fantasized. [Derrida's emphases] (21)

It is this "pre-originary crime" that Derrida is now going to explicate. This "necessarily second generation, originarily late and therefore destined to inherit" recalls Derrida's early analyses of Husserl and writing, writing as supplement of the origin etc etc. This "crime", or the originary adikia, or out-of-jointness of time, is the condition for a "quasi-messianic day", "a day belonging no longer to history" (21). "Is this day before us to come, or more ancient than memory itself". Again, this recalls certain formulas from Speech and Phenomena, (cf. p.103) regarding the origin of intuition etc. on the one hand, and on the other, from Derrida's lengthy first essay on Levinas, Violence and Metaphysics. But in that text, it is precisely the formula of a "beyond history" that Derrida would appear to be uneasy about, or seek to complicate, c(f. p.148/185-6).

This choice, between an "ancient" pre-originary day, and a future-to-come, is impossible to decide. They are indistinguishable. This is, according to Derrida, because "the time is out of joint". It is Ana-chronique. Derrida here suggests that our "ordinary" understanding of time, does not exist. "What does not happen in this anachrony! Perhaps "the time", time itself, precisely" (22). But how to decide between disjunction, on the one hand as injustice, and on the other, disjunction as the necessary relation to the other?

In Ousia and Grammē, as well as ch. 5 of Speech and Phenomena, Derrida had already attempted to show how the moment, the now of the present, was not simple, that it welcomed the other of non presence into it. He will now read the Anaximander Fragment on the basis of this.

A rough translation of the fragment goes like this:

“But that from which things arise also gives rise to their passing away, according to what is necessary; for things render justice and pay penalty to one another for their injustice, according to the ordinance of time.” Heidegger, Early Greek Thinking, p.20

Obviously, you can see here the nexus of concerns for Derrida, time, justic, and gift (ie. "render" etc, the gift to the other). As the fragment intimates, things come and go. The come into presence, linger awhile, and pass away. The complex formula that is translated roughly above undergoes a transformation in Heidegger's hands, whereby the presencing, and fading away of beings becomes a "jointure". But this supposes the adikia, the out of joint, for which beings therefore "render justice" and so forth. In this adikia Heidegger locates a "trace of the tragic", such as that which Derrida had already suggested via Hamlet. This supposes, for Derrida A. The adjoining of the present, from the future to the past. But also B. That this jointure is only named on the condition of the disjointure, the adikia, "injustice".

And here is Derrida's question for Heidegger. Here the undecided oscillation between disjunction as injustice and disjunction as necessary relation to the other that we mentioned above is critical. For Derrida, Heidegger has played down the neccesary disjointure, required for the relation to the other, risking the reinscription of the gift of justice under the sign of presence (27). Rather, for Derrida, there must be a "dislocation in Being and in time itself", always risking injustice, for there to be the possibility of any justice.

That is, justice, as does deconstruction itself, proceeds from the "irreducible possibility of the ... anachronic disjointure" (27). It is this disjunction that Derrida is attempting to illustrate with the spectral, and what he means by the "non-contemporaneity of the present". Because of this disjunction, these ghosts, addressing others, always across a gulf of time. This is also why it associated with technics and production because, as the ghost is always a repetition, returning, once more, it implies that "pre-originary crime" of the inaccessible origin, a primordial disjunction.

The formula on p.31, is, therefore, an account of this "temporality": "no differance without alterity, no alterity without singularity, no singularity without here-now", where, coming up from the depths, we only reach "here-now", after the passing of others, who were never here or now.

Ok, now I'm not sure how coherent all of this is. Derrida mentions that his text isn't the philosophical discourse that is required, and resembles more a "position taking". I'm trying to fill in the gaps, because some of the formulas seem to bring together disparate themes that I haven't come across together in other places. Then again, there might be better texts that I haven't read yet. Anyway, I'll leave it here, and then try to relate this to how Derrida reads Marx shortly.

Yet I have also brought together his quote with the background picture of Van Gogh’s A Pair of Shoes (at least a slice of it). This painting was part of the occasion of Martin Heidegger’s well-known reflections on art and truth, as he depicted the world opened up by the painting of those simple shoes: "From the dark opening of the worn insides of the shoes the toilsome tread of the worker stares forth. In the stiffly rugged heaviness of the shoes there is the accumulated tenacity of her slow trudge through the far-spreading and ever-uniform furrows of the field swept by a raw wind. On the leather lie the dampness and richness of the soil. Under the soles slides the loneliness of the field-path as evening falls. In the shoes vibrates the silent call of the earth, its quiet gift of the ripening grain and its unexplained self-refusal in the fallow desolation of the wintry field. This equipment is pervaded by uncomplaining anxiety as to the certainty of bread, the wordless joy of having once more withstood want, the trembling before the impending childbed and shivering at the surrounding menace of death. This equipment belongs to the earth and it is protected in the world of the peasant woman." [Martin Heidegger, "The Origin of the Work of Art," in Basic Writings, ed. David Farrell Krell (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1993), 159-160.]

In short, in and through the painting a world is opened up to us, and something of the truth of that world is unconcealed in the materiality of the shoes. It is a world different than our own, yet it is given to us as the truth of that world is unconcealed through the art. It serves as a reminder that "world" does not mean just one thing. It involves a meaningful network out of which comes things and pathways and associations. In this sense, there are many varied worlds historically, and different worlds across our globe. The world of a Texas oilman is very different than that of a poor Pakistani farmer.

In the space of two feet planted firmly in faith, a world can arise, not simply in competition with the others, but as truth unconcealed. It yields a perspective, an unassimilable perspective, but a real one nonetheless. It puts into question all worlds, even as it calls us to the concrete possibilities of faith in the midst of them all. In this sense, it is eschatological. That is, it comes to us as a judgment of ourselves and our worlds, like a trauma that overwhelms us and with which we continue ever and always to assimilate in new insights and ways of living. It shakes and overwhelms at times, like good music and great art and intense moments of love, moving us out of our settled sense of self and transforming us, even if only imperfectly.

For me, the incarnational and the eschatological come together in both feet planted firmly. It is in the concrete forms of this world to which God comes (incarnation), but that coming is always God’s, and as such, evokes something new and otherwise (eschatology). It is in the spirit of both feet that I hope to write this blog.

De cand eram mica ma enerva intrebarea “si ce-ai mai citit?”. La scoala o auzeam cel mai des, dupa vacanta. Eu citeam infiorator de mult  dar nu mi se parea deloc in regula sa fiu iscodita si cercetata pe tema asta. Era ca spalatul pe dinti si asa a si ramas. Cateodata chiar de trei ori pe zi sau de cate ori e nevoie, daca ai mestecat ceva nociv. Dupa vacanta, pana si prin clasa a X-a, ne ridicau unii profesori pe fiecare in picioare si trebuia sa spunem ce am citit. Eu alegeam cateva carti din cele pe care le citisem si le balmajeam acolo titlurile cu o oarece retinere, imi era teama sa nu ma intrebe mai mult, pentru ca treaba cu cititul e prea intima ca sa o scoti la drumul mare oricand te pune cineva. Erau cartile mele, parerile mele, timpul meu, temerile mele, chestiile mele, nu mi se parea cine stie ce sa citesti ca dementul, nu aveam de gand sa ma laud cu asta, nici nu ma deranjau oamenii care nu citeau. Nu ma bagam si asteptam acelasi lucru si de la restul lumii. Inca il astept.

Si astazi lumea ma intreaba ce citesc asa incat sa se “inspire”. Nu sunt de acord cu chestia asta, oricat de imbecil ar suna. Nu sunt de acord sa facem o discutie separata cu cititul. Ori e parte din tine si se simte la fiecare sunet pe care-l scoti, la fiecare gest pe care-l faci, la fiecare gand construit in mintea ta, ori nu e si atunci las-o balta, zau, las-o. Nu-i rusine, esti ceea ce esti, nu imi mai spune ca citesti, nu imi mai spune ca ai vrea sa citesti si ca sigur o sa citesti, nu-ti cumpara carti “pentru cand o sa ai timp sa citesti”, nu te simti obligat, eu nu te judec, vad ca tu o faci, tu te judeci. Si de-aia ma freci la cap cu cititul. Daca citesti “doar cand ai timp” inseamna ca nu ai apetit real, visceral pentru citit, inseamna ca poti trai si fara. Iar asta nu e nici bine si nici rau, nu te simti obligat sa pastrezi aparentele. E enervant si se creeaza o atmosfera cam la fel de placuta ca o piele puternic deshidratata. Ne scremem impreuna sa purtam o discutie si asta nu e deloc frumos.

Sa nu se supere pe mine dar nu ii cred nici pe cei care pozeaza cartea din toate partile, pozeaza mai multe, ne spun sa citim cartea si de ce sa o citim, cand si-au cumparat-o si ce au simtit cand au cumparat-o, cum de-abia asteapta sa o citeasca, ce stare au avut dupa ce au terminat cartea. Nu cred in dorinta lor de a face pofta si altora, de a-i educa si pe altii, imi inspira un exhibitionism cultural straniu care vine dintr-un complex pe care ar trebui sa si-l defineasca singuri. Nu cred ca asa faci pofta unui om pentru o carte. Nu cred. Cartea nu e un fel de mancare. Nu te atrage daca o vezi in poza. Cat despre descrierea amanuntita a ei, e ca o descriere amanuntita a unei nopti in care ai facut sex cu cineva. Ce ar trebui sa se intample? Cel care te asculta sa spuna “trebuie neaparat sa ma culc si eu cu asta”? Nu prea se face.

Dar sa fim in randul lumii. Fac o poza la ce am langa laptop. Gata, am facut-o. O vedeti la inceputul post-ului. Pai, sa va recomand, ca asa am vazut ca se poarta. Aia de jos de tot: mai bine nu, ca va indispune. Te ia asa usor si iti zice ca nu ti-e bine de cand esti in burta mamei tale si ca nasterea e monstruoasa, o trauma de care nu scapi. Aia de peste, aia e amestecata, are de toate, de-ale lui Kafka. Si Kafka… asa cum il stiti… nici el nu e foarte bine dispus, mai tot timpul are o problema, fie ca e roman, fie ca e nuvela, fie ca e bucata dintr-o scrisoare, fie ca e chiar scrisoarea catre tatal lui, fie ca sunt fragmente din chestii care nu au fost duse la bun sfarsit. Scrisorile intre Hannah Arendt si Martin Heidegger. Ce sa zic? S-au iubit da’ nu asa cum se iubeste lumea acum. Ei si-au scris mult, s-au respectat, el se bucura cand isi lua schiuri noi, cu toate ca te-ai astepta la ceva mai complex din partea lui Heidegger, ea s-a cunoscut si cu sotia lui, povestea e incurcata si demna in acelasi timp, nu prea are picanterii. Mai bine trecem la urmatoarea carte. “Despre ura” a lui Gabriel Liiceanu. Nu prea e cu noroc nici asta. Una din incercarile (cu din ce in ce mai putin ecou) de a gasi o explicatie la mularea atat de scarboasa pe comunism a poporului roman. Una a mai ramas si nu ne scoatem nici cu ea, este o carte care te invata sa transformi depresia in ceva productiv. Cum ar zice multe domnisoare si doamne,  va spun si eu la final ca “sper sa le devorati, sa le savurati si sa petreceti cel putin cateva ore departe de agitatia cotidiana”.

A busca por uma autenticidade possível confere dignidade e sentido à nossa vida.
Ernest Sarlet

In any case, NP and Praxis had been working on Specters and in particular, Derrida's elision of the phrase: "so it is in the world of commodities with the products of men's hands" [their emphasis], from a key passage in Capital.

Now, why this ommision?, they ask.  Well, this comes down to 'whose hand is it?'.  Is it Marx's, or is it someone elses?  Is there a sleight of hand going on here.  Perhaps, I wonder, it could be Heidegger's hand?

Now, happily, Derrida has written on Heidegger's hand - the essay called Geschlecht II, subtitled "Heidegger's Hand".  Heidegger thematises the hand in Was heisst Denken? Derrida, in this essay, traces the hand through this and other parts of Heidegger's work  Recall Being and Time, and the designation of equipmentality as presence-at-hand and ready-to-hand etc.

Now, I don't have time at the moment here to work out the links between Geschlect II and Specters - I'll hope to come back to it.  But suffice to say that from my quick skim of the essay, the hand, which is intimately caught up with the thought and speech for Heidegger, and therefore thought is the primordial handicraft, that is production and the source of all technics (and Derrida notes that Heidegger refers to Marx here).  The hand, so emphasised by Heidegger, is caught up in all the metaphysical themes, according to Derrida, that Heidegger wants to think beyond. Derrida traces all of this in interesting directions to do with national socialism and animality and sexual difference (the resonances of geschlecht).

But anyway, this was just meant to be a quick suggestion that maybe there is a sleight of hand - Marx's, Heidegger's, Derrida's...and where are our hands?

sieht ungefähr so aus:

so sehen dann grafiken aus, die ich mit der hand male, um sie dann im photoshop laienhaft zu bearbeiten. überlege, vielleicht politischer zu werden. mit meinen inhalten meine ich.