Sunday, January 12, 2014
Saturday, January 11, 2014
Monday, January 6, 2014
...These three authors put the late modern subject on stage as a ‘porous’, that is precarious and problematic creature, with the phenomenon of depression at the centre of the portrayal. However, what in their interpretations stays underexposed is depression as experience, by which also the possibility of depressive passivity as a form of re-activity remains hidden in the dark. Though Dufour touches upon this possibility when he writes that the rise of the phenomenon of depression might be ‘an obvious sign of resistance of the subject to the economy of the generalised market’9, he leaves the option undiscussed. Rosa bestows upon the depressed person the status of ‘most sensitive seismograph of current and coming transformations’10, without coming to an understanding of this sensibility. And Ehrenberg’s analyses, finally, are in the end always focused on ‘a certain tonality of our collective psychology’11 and not on the response of the concrete individual to this ‘tonality’. Furthermore, it concerns a ‘tonality of loss’12, and so depression appears wholly as a token of deficiency, as ‘fatigue of being oneself’, ‘pathology of acting’, as ‘lack of project, lack of motivation, lack of communication’, in brief, as ‘lack of initiative’.13 Is there something hidden behind this deficiency? What causes someone to fail? In what way is this incapacity to act still a way of acting? Is there any defence or resistance in it? In order to take a first step in elucidating depression ‘from the inside’ the final part of this paper will be devoted to a phenomenological interpretation of this disorder: that of the Belgian psychiatrist and psychoanalyst Jacques Schotte. In his ‘pathoanalytical’ perspective depression occupies a central place. He calls the disorder ‘the most ubiquitously important one of the whole of psychiatry’.14
9 Dufour 2007a : 325-326. Cf Dufour 2007b : 107, and 2011: 125, 279.
10 Rosa 2005: 390.
11 Ehrenberg 2010: 20.
12 Ehrenberg 2010: 309.
13 Ehrenberg 1998: 157, 251, 182.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Friday, December 23, 2011
Monday, November 28, 2011
But methinks we have been not a little inattentive to run over so many different parts of the human mind, and examine so many passions, without taking once into the consideration that love of truth, which was the first source of all our enquiries. Twill therefore be proper, before we leave this subject, to bestow a few reflections on that passion, and shew its origin in human nature. `Tis an affection of so peculiar a kind, that `twould have been impossible to have treated of it under any of those heads, which we have examin'd, without danger of obscurity and confusion....
...But tho' the exercise of genius be the principal source of that satisfaction we receive from the sciences, yet I doubt, if it be alone sufficient to give us any considerable enjoyment. The truth we discover must also be of some importance. Tis easy to multiply algebraical problems to infinity, nor is there any end in the discovery of the proportions of conic sections; tho' few mathematicians take any pleasure in these researches, but turn their thoughts to what is more useful and important. Now the question is, after what manner this utility and importance operate upon us? The difficulty on this head arises from hence, that many philosophers have consum'd their time, have destroy'd their health, and neglected their fortune, in the search of such truths, as they esteem'd important and useful to the world, tho' it appear'd from their whole conduct and behaviour, that they were not endow'd with any share of public spirit, nor had any concern for the interests of mankind. Were they convinc'd, that their discoveries were of no consequence, they wou'd entirely lose all relish for their studies, and that tho' the consequences be entirely indifferent to them; which seems to be a contradiction. (hume, treatise, book ii)
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Monday, November 8, 2010
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
|Let's start with risk... we are all conscripts in one sense or another...for all of us, it is hard to break ranks, to incur the disapproval, the censure, the violence of an offended majority with a different idea of loyalty. We shelter under banner words like justice, peace and reconciliation that enroll us in new, if much smaller and relatively powerless, communities of the like-minded...to fall out of step with one's tribe; to step beyond one's tribe into a world that is larger mentally but smaller numerically--if alienation or dissidence is not your habitual or gratifying posture, this is a complex, difficult process. It is hard to defy the wisdom of the tribe, the wisdom that values the lives of members of the tribe above all others. It will always be unpopular--it will always be deemed unpatriotic--to say that the lives of the members of the other tribe are as valuable as one's own. It is easier to give one's allegiance to those we know, to those we see, to those with whom we are embedded, to those with whom we share--as we may--a community of fear...let’s not underestimate the retaliation that may be visited on those who dare to dissent from the brutalities and repressions thought justified by the fears of the majority...we are flesh. we can be punctured by a bayonet, torn apart by a suicide bomber...fear binds people together...and fear disperses them...courage inspires communities: the courage of an example for courage is as contagious as fear.... but courage, certain kinds of courage, can also isolate the brave.|
The perennial destiny of principles: While everyone professes to have them, they are likely to be sacrificed when they become inconveniencing.
Generally a moral principle is something that puts one at variance with accepted practice. And that variance has consequences, sometimes unpleasant consequences, as the community takes its revenge on those who challenge its contradictions--who want a society actually to uphold the principles it professes to defend. The standard that a society should actually embody its own professed principles is a utopian one, in the sense that moral principles contradict the way things really are--and always will be. How things really are--and always will be--is neither all evil nor all good but deficient, inconsistent, inferior. Principles invite us to do something about the morass of contradictions in which we function morally. Principles invite us to clean up our act, to become intolerant of moral laxity and compromise and cowardice and the turning away from what is up-setting: that secret gnawing of the heart that tells us that what we are doing is not right, and so counsels us that we'd be better off just not thinking about it. Again: There is nothing inherently superior about resistance. All our claims for the righteousness of resistance rest on the rightness of the claim that the resisters are acting in the name of justice. And the justice of the cause does not depend on, and is not enhanced by, the virtue of those who make the assertion. It depends first and last on the truth of a description of a state of affairs that is, truly, unjust and unnecessary.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Friday, September 3, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
From where he was standing on the balcony, he could see them both. They couldn’t see each other. He could speak with the neighbour that had locked herself out on her own balcony, and was looking for a way to enter her house. He was talking to her, with sweet soothing words, as she was already getting scared. She was scared of heights, she was scared of the cold, she was scared of raindrops, she was scared she would have to stay out there until her husband returned. The reason she was locked outside? She thought she saw rat turds and she went out to investigate. He was telling her to remain calm, not to look downstairs and that he would call her husband or her mother. Meanwhile, something else was happening inside the room. The other one, standing on the bed, was lifting her blouse slowly, revealing her tummy button initially and then her breasts. Her eyes were inviting him girlishly, her body womanly. As the neighbour was continuing her agonizing exploratory dialogue, his replies began to falter, his responses becoming more general, as he clumsily tried to recapture her words. “We are going to be late for the concert…”she told him, stressing the -cert bit particularly, playfully hinting she was not at the least interested in the concert.
He placed the unused concert tickets inside the plastic box and then sealed it, leaving it on top of that last short side-table, left behind by the removal people.
He walked towards the balcony door, stepping on the wooden floor, leaving his echoing footprints on the dust that had previously been covered and had not been mopped since the bed first went into the room. His eyes turned to the wall on his right.
There was a blue paint mark at the height of a piece of furniture that used to be there from previous tenants. Konstantinos, the landlord, pointed that out the day he first showed the house to him. He didn’t mind it he said, he would paint the wall anyhow. Later he decided not to paint it, because he decided he liked its patina. Then he brought a poster to cover the mark. But he wanted to frame it first and then he decided that he would finally paint the wall. He had to abandon this plan as well, since he had already started planning his exit from the country and had decided he would leave this house.
He looked down. The poster was there next to the heater, wrapped in a nylon roll. He took it out with ceremonial tenderness and stretched it. It was an A3 poster, cream, full of words and doodles. When he bought it, he thought it was Peter Brook’s notes for his book, The Shifting Point, since the quote “Hold on tightly, let go lightly” was prominently written somewhere on it but it turned out they were simply the notes of some advertiser graphics designer in New York. He bought it as a gift to his son who was studying theatre studies who he was going to meet later that day.
He delayed arriving at the meeting point. The sky was all dull red. Desert dust had emigrated from Africa flooding the sky. He felt his eyes smart and dry and thought of them the same colour as the sky. A stench from a cat carcass or something, made an entrance to his nostrils. He looked alternately the soles of his shoes, and then the open litter bin before he entered the café, hoping to discover the dead animal and solve the mystery of the origin of the smell. His palms were equally red and swollen. He had an allergy to dust and his own sweat and he hadn’t relaxed for a single moment his grips of his motorcycle steering wheel driving there. All that was distracting him from his sincere decision to enter a dialogue as an active listener, to really hear his son out, to not reply hastily and unreflectively, to not reply at all if necessary. It was their first encounter after a long time. It felt such a success to convince him to see him. He had decided not to disappoint him again. How crucial a meeting that was? Crucial indeed. His son was already there, standing in a remote table at the back of the main hall. He could see him. A young waiter with a full body apron passed by in front of him jostling him annoyingly.
He raised his eyes again towards the blue mark, wrapped the poster up without looking at it and placed it at the corner of the empty room, touching on the floor leaning against the wall.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Friday, April 9, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
unbalance so as to re-balance
hide the ideas, but so that people find them. the most important will be the most hidden
actors. the nearer they appear (on the screen) with their expressiveness, the further away they get. houses, trees come nearer; the actors go away
fragmentation 'this is indispensible if one does not want to fall into representation. see beings and things in their separate parts. render them independent in order to give them a new dependence
things too much in disorder, or too much in order, become equal, one no longer distinguishes them. They produce indifference and boredom
don't show all sides of things. a margin of indefiniteness
the actor is double. the alternate presence of him and of the other is what the public has been schooled to cherish
what our eyes and ears require is not the realistic persona but the real person
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Saturday, January 9, 2010
talking to you. answering. allegedly silent words
vocalised in the form of a car radio v/o
reverbing in vice city cortexia
huge signs, pointing yourside
stuck in a synaptical traffic jam
two vehicles ahead some emotional 3-axis lorry
gets unexpected flat tyre
tolls collectors inexplicably happy
enormous videowalls, alternating your form, one or another
taking turns, alien to familiar, advertising salvation
be it packed or simply serviced and then
come the trailers of imaginary prose,
my character, yours, a psychodrama then a
sports underdog story
temptress, broken favourite pieces, i4, gottlob, haircut, alone
creative, we must, broadband, vespa, ahead, bios
and various other words parade
a flickering red led display indicator,
some sort of unintelligible (ha) value system
is clearly in place
and then they are spotted. two imposing enormous cranes, and a peculiar
helicopter shouting encoded instructions over the loudspeakers
numerous handlers, forklift drivers and lay labourers
running about commited to the task
a whole partition of the road is at this very momment being relocated,
connecting a high bridge, with a previously inaccesible pasture
over and above the err...sea
no need to talk i guess, about no thing. we already speak.
no need to talk
Monday, January 4, 2010
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
- so, you are saying i am not playing right
- i didn't say anything
- yes, but you have implied it
- i find this arguable. have i asked you to participate in anything?
- well, directly i have to admit that you haven't
- we never agreed to play no game, neither the one, you seem to be having in your mind or any other game for that matter
- we play games, anyhow, all the time
- yes, maybe, involuntarily but you speak of roles
- if we play games, there must be roles
- but then we must know, the point of the game.
- what's the point of the game, no really ?
- stop playing around
- you see!
- take my hand, i feel like dancing tonight
- this sounds like a line from a film
- ok! let me think...the toaster is off, your mother dropped by this morning, they can't keep the dog for Christmas after all, i like this song, take my hand, dance with me a bit, i m so tired, but i feel like dancing tonight
- mmm, you never made this movement before
- oh well i feel inspired
- do you think our bodies know grammar too?
- how do you mean ?
- i mean do you think our hands converse in space, similarly to words?... do you think that by touching you like that
(touching softly in the elbow)
i have excluded a multitude of other possibilities of touching you
- it seems so...nevertheless you have chosen to touch me exactly like that, and no other way
- and what does this now, say about me ?
- mmmm, you 've never said something like this before
- we are going to be late
- what time it is ?
- it is 8.38
- when does it start ?
- we 'll be fine
- please hurry up, we got to pick stella up with the car, i hate it when we get there late, what are you doing anyway?
-nothing...coming, right away...
Monday, December 7, 2009
Friday, December 4, 2009
put your hands down with pollen
put your head down with pollen
then your feet are pollen
your hands are pollen
your body is pollen
your mind is pollen
your voice is pollen
the trail is beautiful
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
but then i got up again
and oh yes, you are my sister because i am your brother
and yes, yes, yes the affirmative
and i am the carrier of your touch
and i am the memory of your sweet kiss
and by my shadow i lie under the thin duvet
getting my grammar right this time
"Εγώ δεν είμαι μόνο αυτός που βλέπεις, αυτός που ξέρεις
δεν είμαι μόνο αυτός που θα πρεπε να μάθεις.
Κάθε επιφάνεια της σάρκας μου κάπου τη χρωστάω
αν σε αγγίξω με την άκρη του δαχτύλου μου
σε αγγίζουν εκατομμύρια άνθρωποι,
αν σου μιλήσει μια λέξη μου
σου μιλάνε εκατομμύρια άνθρωποι -
Θα αναγνωρίσεις τα άλλα κορμιά που πλάθουν το δικό μου;
Θα βρείς τις πατημασιές μου μες σε μυριάδες χνάρια;
Θα ξεχωρίσεις την κίνησή μου μες τη ροή του πλήθους;
Είμαι κι ό,τι έχω υπάρξει και πια δεν είμαι -
τα πεθαμένα μου κύτταρα, οι πεθαμένες
πράξεις, οι πεθαμένες σκέψεις
γυρνάν τα βράδια να ξεδιψάσουν στο αίμα μου.
Είμαι ο,τι δεν έχω γίνει ακόμα -
μέσα μου σφυροκοπάει η σκαλωσιά του μέλλοντος.
Είμαι ό,τι πρέπει να γίνω-
γύρω μου οι φίλοι απαιτούν οι εχθροί απαγορεύουν.
Μη με γυρέψεις αλλού
μονάχα εδώ να με γυρέψεις
μόνο σε μένα"
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Friday, October 16, 2009
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Friday, October 9, 2009
ο λαβύρινθος εγκαταλείφθηκε, απολύθηκαν οι φύλακες
με τον καιρό γκρεμίστηκε η οροφή του
βγήκαν στο φως οι τρομεροί διάδρομοι
οι αίθουσες για τα βασανιστήρια, την ανθρωποφαγία
οι στοές με τις κρυμμένες εφευρέσεις
τους καταχωνιασμένους θησαυρούς
πέσανε οι τοίχοι, μείναν μόνο τα χνάρια
από περίπλοκα χαράγματα πάνω στη γη.
Όμως προσομοιώσεις λαβυρίνθων, σκοτεινές κατασκευές
δεν έπαψαν να χτίζονται με νέα υλικά
με καινούργια τέρατα, θύματα, ήρωες, ηγεμόνες,
φτιάχνονται προπαντός λαβύρινθοι με λέξεις
κάθε χρονιά μπαίνουν μέσα τους νέες φουρνιές
αγόρια και κορίτσια, με φόβο μαζί και αψηφισιά
για τις παγίδες, τις καταπακτές, τ' αδιέξοδα
φιλοδοξώντας να ξαναπλάσουν και να παίξουν
το παλιό δράμα προσαρμοσμένο στα νέα δεδομένα
δίνοντας στους κύριους ρόλους τα ίδια ονόματα
Μίνωας, Πασιφάη, Μινώταυρος, Αριάδνη,
Δαίδαλος, Ίκαρος, Θησέας.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Grobian: Your objection is inapplicable, for it is merely the product of blind forces. Moreover, your childhood buffets were pernicious and regrettable, for they have set you against this truth.
2. Gerda: So you believe that all knowledge comes from God in proportion to our virtue or worth, and that all ignorance, error, and uncertainty come from the Devil in proportion to our vices. May I ask what evidence you have for this remarkable thesis?
Grobian: I pity you infinitely for your sins.
3. Gerda: Doctor Grobian, I am not crazy! I stole the bread because my children were hungry.
Why do you assume that every crime is caused by illness?
Grobian: Why do you deny it?
Gerda: I am not playing a game. I really want an answer to my question.
Grobian: Obviously your ego cannot cope with the truth and you display this inadequacy in hostility to your doctor. I will not recommend your release.
4. Gerda: So you believe x, y, and z. But you are mistaken. Consider evidence a, b, and c. What do you say?
Grobian: It's a mystery. If I could understand it, I wouldn't believe it. I can't help it if it's the truth. One day perhaps you'll see the light too.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
μέτρο είναι ένα μέσο απεικόνισης, ένα πλαίσιο μέσα στο οποίο καταγράφονται οι τονισμοί και οι αξιές των φθόγγων (ή των παύσεων αν χρείαστει) κατά τρόπο που η πραγματική τους διάρκεια μπορεί να μετρηθεί με ακρίβεια/ για να είναι είναι δυνατό αυτό το μέτρημα πρέπει να υπάρξει μια απόλυτα ισόποση διαίρεση του χρόνου. αυτό γίνεται με μια υποθετική ροή ισόχρονων κτύπων, που ονομάζονται παλμοί /για να υπάρξει καλύτερη αντίληψη των παλμών του ρυθμού, γίνεται ομαδοποίηση τους σε μικρές ισόποσες ομάδες που ονομάζονται μέτρα / χχ /χχ/ χχ/ χχ (διμερές μέτρο)/ χχχ / χχχ /χχχ /χχχ (τριμερές μέτρο)
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
άκου με, που λέω αγάπη μου
ακού τα άλφα να μπουκώνουν το στόμα μου
να ξεχειλώνουν τα χείλη μου όπως το σκάνε
περπατούσαμε χρόνια στο
πως να μην παλέψουμε
πως να μην ματώσουμε
πως να μην
τόσα πρόσωπα, νεκρά, ξεψυχισμένα
και μόνο ένα όνομα ;
Thursday, September 17, 2009
in the absence of an effective general myhtology, each of us has his private,unrecognised, rudimentary, yet secretly potent pantheon of dream. the lastest incarnation of Oedipus, the continued romance of Beauty and the Beast, stand this afternoon on the corner of Forty-second Street and fifth Avenue, waiting for the traffic light to change.[...] the doctor (psychoanalyst) is the modern master of the mythological realm, the knower of all the secret ways and words of potency. His role is precisely that of the Wise Old Man of the myths and fairytales whose words assist the hero through the trials and terrors of the weird adventure. He is the one who appears and points to the magic shining sword that will kill the dragon-terror, tells of the waiting bride (apply genders adlib) and the castle of many treasures, applies healing balm to the almost fatal wounds, and finally dismisses the conqueror back into the world of normal life, following the great adventure into the enchanted night.[...]we remain fixated to the unexercised images of our infancy, and hence disinclined to the necessary passages of our adulthood (see rites of passage)[...]lest our energies should remain locked in a banal, long-outmoded toy-room, at the bottom of the sea
If our language provides the symbols to unlock our true desires, our dreams have to provide the symbols for our timeless journey. may the intitiation begin...
Friday, September 11, 2009
Sunday, September 6, 2009
i sit in the sofa
i sometimes lie
iiii watched the red convertible ferrari enter the hilton
i didn't anticipate that
i despise the i's
iiii have now slept with my father
ii felt the heat of my revenge in her eyes as we were sweating in her new ikea bed that we assembled together
iii am and can be funny
i just called her my father
i eyed the lingering of the pine
iii haven't been to the army
iii was born to working class parents
iiiii made this specific demographic
i love avocado
i have spoken the unspeakable
iii constantly am looking for context
iiii randomly censor my i
i though never my eye
iii have also slept with my mother
ii caressed her long black hair
ii choose my words
i and time
i like and use words like sofa, irrigation, egotism, indulgence
iii like the looks of the word transit
iii project my indulgence to you
i cheated on quantitative methods
iii make references too
ii am dialectic
i find this arguable
i have also called her my mother
iii take you for granted
i am a brother to two sisters for instance
iii enjoy meeting my friends sunday daytime
i named my dog argos
iiii have now killed my mother
ii have left her one night last september to go for a drink
i am typing
i rode a certain stream of consciousness
i have left my mother for my father
iiii think that that's fair
ii must admit it's only reasonable
i'm going to anagrammatize reason able in this line son bae real
iii wished to illustrate the existence of such liberties
i like scifi films
iii walk in pitch dark
i am holding hands
iii am blinking my left eye
i skype with NYC almost every night
i play the guitar
i really planned to tackle this in single line sentences
i iii i i suck in grammar
i said "-i meant well "
iii have not consented to become a wedding trophy
iii don't readily claim injustice
i. ii. iii. ...
i thus killed my father too
iii am gemini
i and the symbol i
iii sometimes ponder upon the demonization of incest
i consider the conclusions of such pondering obvious
ii simply i,
iii could possibly clarify by adding that such conclusions are related to my quest for the unspeakable
i must now say someting like oups! i guess
i feel that you may don't know why
iiiii am wikipedia, and facebook and global warming
iii a certain space occupy
i and me, and you, and consistency
iiiiiii i am tb, rss, fto bmi
iiii have not coined the term "unspeakable"
i saw that cockroach too
iii am a villager of the world
i is i if and only if i is i
i. never I
i m here and now
i sometimes lie
iii some times not knowingly, lie