Nomads, Cyborgs, and the Spirit




Saturday, January 19, 2008

A brief articulation of cyborges

A description:


"The protection of the "disguised" member of the Resistance depends upon topographic continuity, upon uninterrupted nature. It is necessary to evade anything that signals habitation -- roads, buildings -- in order to tuck oneself into the folds of the terrain. He "occupies" the underbrush and trees, atmospheric disturbances, night. Just as he outmanoeuvres space through the care he takes in avoiding all contact, so also does he outmanoeuvre time through the speed of his movements. With his war paint, he even outmanoeuvres form, concealing his body in a series of occultations of the object, subject, and trajectory."


V i r i l i o
Negative Horizon

Friday, December 21, 2007

Becoming an Urbanist, Not a Philosopher: Trajectivity

Linking between blogs in an attempt to sort out exactly what each one represents. Politics of the Very Worst is an extremely interesting Virilio interview that has profoundly inspired me.

"My work is that of a limited man who must deal with a limitless situation."


and

"I do not work on the subject and the object -- that is the world of the philosopher -- but rather on the "traject." I have even proposed to inscribe the trajectory between the subject and the object to create the neologism "trajective," in addition to "subjective" and "objective." I am thus a man of the trajective, and the city is the site of trajectivity. It is the site of proximity between men, the site of organization of contact."



V i r i l i o
Politics of the Very Worst


More on "Trajectivity" in the future.

Friday, November 16, 2007

Virilio's concern for speed is his most dominant idea concerning the modern age. Seeing all technological apparatuses in terms of speed gives them a negative spin, but that is not entirely accurate within Virilio's framework. Sometimes, someone else must extract it, shine on it a different light:

"It is thus necessary to make a distinction between speed and movement: a movement may be very fast, but that does not give it speed; a speed may be very slow, or even immobile, yet it is still speed. Movement designates the relative character of a body considered as "one," and which goes from point to point; speed, on the contrary, constitutes the absolute character of a body whose irreducible parts (atoms) occupy or fill a smooth space in the manner of a vortex, with the possibility of springing up at any point. (It is therefore not surprising that reference has been made to spiritual voyages effected without relative movement, but in intensity, in one place: these are part of nomadism).


D e l e u z e / G u a t t a r i
Nomadology: The War Machine


Here, Deleuze and Guattari are speaking of Kleist, but the same could be said about the texts Borges (springing up at any point, occupying space in the manner of a vortex) as well as his cyborges and his (questionable) existence in the world.

Thursday, November 8, 2007

Incongruous? or actual intent?

Amongst the words of lust:

"Either you're in love with someone or you're not. The one thing about being in love with someone is you know you're in love: You're either flying or you're about to kill yourself."


K a t h y A c k e r
Hannibal Lecter, My Father

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

Post-Apocalypse, Garden Party

Jean Baudrillard in Borges' garden of ruins. Like Borges' ruins, he has a straightforward moment of realization in the garden maze, which has become so desecrated as to reveal its structure but its path so worn as to facilitate the continuation of movement on the tired routes between the hedges.

"We know about the social and political void preceding election day. Every initiative is postponed, the bets are made, rien ne va plus, society is already frostbitten in advance. It is pure simulation, incidentally, for the electoral outcome itself does not matter in the least. Every political power tries hard to freeze society through this electoral suspense, this ecstasy of the ballot or survey. One gets the impression that the approach of the year 2000 suffices to make the political societies rigidify retrospectively in the same way.

"Since the beginning of the 1980s, a timeless area has emerged that will survive by deterrence, like crisis has already done, out of fear that something too significant could happen.

"If it were possible, one would suspend time before this anniversary of the millennium arrives (the year 2000 will not take place). It is true that this is a metaphor, but it is one that concerns us. What I mean is that this stopping of time, this fear of the millennium and of this whole metaphysical or historical convulsion that is symbolized by the approach of the next millennium has long since occurred. The fear is manifested in the previous century without anyone really having any premonition of anything else.

"And the euphoria of the new information society is not succeeding at masking this mental recession into indifference, this retardation of time as it approaches its end.

"Thus, aspects of this intellectual recession are the point at issue. As in the film 2001, we are journeying into space, with the computer monitoring us. The information, communication, etc., keep the social body in a state of perfect survival, ensuring that all vital functions continue: circulation, breathing, metabolism, heart tone, cell regeneration -- just as the computer does it with the biophysiological functions of the voyagers in 2001. Quite simply, there is no life any longer. Nor is there any in our societies. In a certain way there is no life any more, but the information and the vital functions continue. When the time has passed, the passengers must certainly awaken unless the computer, acting on some vengeful or evil impulse, were to really disconnect them so that they never reach their destination.

"So it is with us as well. Thus far the risk of being disconnected from the vital functions is still small, but we are already more or less disconnected from our history and thus also from its destination. That means, then, that time can slow as it nears its end and that the year 2000, in a certain way, will not take place."



B a u d r i l l a r d
"The Anorexic Ruins"
from Looking Back on the End of the World



The future of inertia:

"The future lies in cosmic solitude. I picture a weightless individual in a little ergonomic armchair, suspended outside a space capsule, with the earth below and the interstellar void above. A man with his own gravity, who no longer needs a relationship to society, to those around him, and least of all to a family."


V i r i l i o
"The Game of Love and Chance"
citation

Monday, October 1, 2007

The War Machine

The State:
"It should not be concluded that war is a state of nature, but rather that it is the mode of a social state that wards off and prevents the State. Primitive war does not produce the State any more than it derives from it."


On Friendship:
"Even in bands of animals, leadership is a complex mechanism that does not act to promote the strongest, but rather inhibits the installation of stable powers, in favor of a web of immanent relations. One could just as easily compare the form "high society life" to the form "sociability" among the most highly evolved men and women: high society groups are similar to gangs, and operate by the diffusion of prestige rather than by reference to centers of power, as in social groupings (Proust clearly showed this noncorrespondence of high society values and social values)."



D e l e u z e / G u a t t a r i
Nomadology: The War Machine

Friday, September 14, 2007

Radio Borges

In a conversation on Melvyn Bragg's In Our Time, Evelyn Fishburn claims that Borges "wasn't an original thinker, he was an original writer." Instead of systematizing his ideas, aligning them with a theoretical language, he enacts them as a reality of its own. Just as Husserl says of consciousness, Borges' work "streams into the life-world," shaping it as it opens itself up into the openness.

By 60 years of age, Borges was completely blind, embracing (for us) the image of the blind poet who recites his work from memory and composes in compact packets of prose and poetry. His blindness, as a metaphor, liberates his work from the perceptible, human world, allowing it to take on its own sensory organs, understanding, and consciousness.