of the

of the six million desiring-machines, cogs & wheel working, hat pump
synchrouous throng, this is one in the naked city of feel, unfeeling peel
around the hanger in the schizo-analytic plate.

there at terre-bonne where the even nerves skate across the eyes.



Is there a clock here he says to this plate, of antioedipus, and other
dark nightsomes of her past, hugging the nail to his sweating cloak,
harbinger of darkness and hate, not the hefty mall of her palm
held out beneath his feet, his ball bearings chucked on the side of the wood.

Antioedipus sunnies the fate, the fates of whistles and charms.


Epistemologic Epistles 1.versation

JenaJean, hello and comment ca va today, I hope you slept and look upon this cruel world feeling better. Ah! but what if the Tuscan's astrologer had a web browser what would he have seen then... If the literalist Satan could not see God's complex planes and plans, the possible co-existence of several world views at once, even as Tillich and Bruno explored the multiple possibilities of what the latter called the New Being and the former Christ (it all con conflicts in cath. theology with the problem of substance and essence and the haeccity of a being [really the term is dun scotus 's] and it refers to something like the new ideas of being-=identity being developed in various philosophical circles in france and elsewhere. But if the Tuscan astrologer had come on
line and if Satan had come on line then both and the Dogmatist militant Catholic Church would have to see it to, that we live on hundreds of planes simultaneously, and diachronically. Nevertheless simplistic and
ancient idea of metempsychosis and reincarnation pah! that's mere kids' stuff. We have going our multiple subjectivity with no centre, which is what Zina (you know I fell for her badly and each night I was moaning sayin' her name and her body was everywhere) is so concerned about, and now find that question she keeps
going over of no interest to me any longer, and we have the real and virtual extension of self on line and yet again through the still cruder media of t.v. radio etc. the extension of the central nervous system As Cuchulain put it causes anxiety to tribal manwoman; and we are most certainly tribal more each year; a shrinking ball of a world John Donne and you wouldn't know! never know the sort of a shrinkage we are experiencing. We also seem to be living in several bodies at once across
the span of space time, over what one writer calls a 5 dimensional
synchronised hallucination. God knows what happens when "they" really get around to playing with the genetic structure! Where will literary studies be then!/ And theory, well we shall need a theory of the metaphysics of the physics of theory to practice even the most rudimentary semantic elementary discussion which may end up in several tongues at once as we
swim across translations of all speech concurrently! What JJ was doing in the Finnegans Wake book! Poor Irish man going blind all those years. Imagine ourselves simultaneously "carnate" (like flowers and not cars or chariots of the sun as in "in" the car or chariot) across several dimensions and several spheres of being ! Oh well these are my humble thoughts and have been for years! The Bruno paradigm appeals to me. We are
affected by the media we use for sure. We become what we behold, all gods
reside in the human breast, technology as extension of gods and goddesses, therefore we are the techniques and the gods; therefore we are not only three personed we are multiple personed; our person hood is the fabric across which identity is thrown. The question of what is a self is in one sense 'superfluous' the now past (to some extent), modernist anxiety about unity for instance, or the anxiety of a self in need of a trueself is a false posture a a false position to start with and results more from the break of social custom and identity's "traditional" lodging in that created space or fiction as some would call it. I think it was
not a fiction but a real experience for those who lived it; Just as the
question is real for those who pose it now; but subjectivity is in one sense merely the temporary locale of a consciousness the "I" calls "me."
But what of it? What about unconsciousness and all its raptures of sleep and bliss and sexual ecstasy for instance. My old pal, Maurice's notion of 16
dimensional reality is from what I understand an explosion of the level of the "li groups" of similar theories. Deleuze and Guattari discuss quite a bit of mathematics in their work; physics as in Brownian motion and so on it's all there... Maurice and I would discuss Foucault s' ideas especially those brought up in the Words and Things books; the questions of continuity and the relationship of objects in space; perhaps F. wasn't radical enough in some domains. Perhaps F. needed to read the works of Michel Polyani! and Koestler whose long work on science helps to explode the centralist notion some have of science. Or Fritjof Capra the Finnish physicist, (like the linguist Hjelmslev and then there's also the Finnish radical psychiatrist whose author's name escapes me; Ah ! but those Finns are onto something aren't they) and his work connecting the traditionalist Taoist ideas with ultra advanced relativity theory and current problems in physics; too many minds who spend too little time not looking around limits their scope and vision of what is going on in the human scene and how we are enriching the possibilities all the time!
One other thing, I'm sorry I babbled last night about these other writers, maybe I'm wrong maybe I was ungenerous. Perhaps they are good and
I cant see it; what I meant to say about them is that they strike as weak and not there enough in their own work; the other social and personal reasons I hesitate to publish with them are as I told you sort of political; Aie is me! the divide in poetry multiplies as well it multiplies up and divides down! Mme blooky is wrong in the sense that he misses the change over to a modern physics of literature and that I think is the real problem. Mmm, this is my idea in embryo of a quantitative
theory of literature.... my doctoral dissertation!? Mme. Blooky, who's I think is great when specific (at least at times shall I say at time she has been great, but we have known the great known them all, my dear), mistakes her particulars for generals and then assumes there is no other accounting for energy than genius; second he
projects her own filial gnostic notions onto shakespeare and company (and it's not very fey or sexy is it?) assuming assumes that SCompany is the canon --but what a double-edge wordsword! Cannon! A homology of Kant and desire tucked away even in the hiddenest repression -- (But it is funny to read his large polemic and how he aggravates people); perhaps S has dumped the canon into our laps actually and we're re=reading and re-writing it... as in Missy kosofski and others; he (speaking of Missy K. have you ever jerked off to a critic whose work you like? that would be a good one: As I lay masturbating to the critical prudences of ....) forgets Donne and others making the specious claim that the has been no
influence on the later poets by Donne - false obviously; one could say in fact and I would argue, Donne invented Coleridge's possibilities in ode
to Dejection poems (by way of being the the creation of a first
real "I" voice in a modern poet; he and Wyatt I would say; not S. as I thought before; our encounters pulled that rug out from me), and of course Queen E. and the gang etc; but Queen Voice's lectures on the metaphysicals are the key really they point to the numerous poets who have "influenced" the modernist" text; but Mia Blinky also neglects the real value of inter-textuality with her over-emphasis on anxiety and not joy! and generosity, the scary thing about Blookee is that because we are so limited she looks right; Ah well phooey! on her! I'd have sex with Zina long before I had sex with MizzBlinky! -- even bad poets have a place in the canon, and the Library, let us not forget the library of endless discoveries and dictionaries! Question: is a bad poet a poet at all? Zina has read more than most but perhaps her theory is as much an aspect of her own psychology as the rest of us; i.e. she suffers from her own anxious Freudian internalised fictionalised tropes! O dear, did you see that? I muddled Blinky and Zina! She's suffering all sorta anxiousness and says the words Body-without organs gives her the creeps! I should show he what the bwo is! HA, there's quite a thought for you JenaJean!
Anyhow, this is yours truly Shem the penman (that nick name is from Finnegans Wake) Cseeker!
Soreas of interest and the various points of this my most recent (and woman's buttocks the roundnesses of them) the
quantitative theorem of literature
the politics of literature
the physics of contemporary thought all the above more less
then mix over hot water for one hour at room temperature;
result one wild epistolary theoretician!

Litttle Schizophrenenes

Why were the dividing spaces
Why were
the loves not matched?

*** ***** ***

I can't see it Saxophones and Double Bass (Alto)

Like Antioedipus
meditation on a fountain let's begin somewhere say like
title and

Why were his friends so nice? -- no one knew the reply, because
he got tired of saying answer or wait. And the skies grew colder each
dunny day -- clay like skin. Bend things and subjects rejects plural
bend. Or why were Anti's friends so courteous? -- they weren't. The sky
grew like clay of her moisturized face. Anyhow, like resentments and we
smoke the bit butt. Tomorrow the play of shields and a fox terrier.
Curling saxophone and sandals in the Sumerian estate and the fat climbing
the ice leading to a hyrophane speckled with limpid word cellars. Nom it
isn't always the first word. Light your mouth, i have disappointed my
friend -- a method is coming to a close...where did it go...where does it
go...the place birds go. And before the ice?...there are lamps here and
there, but the mood is gone and i am coming back finding my very own
travel, clue on the haphazard lip eyes mouth. Old letters here
deteriorate. We cannot listen or lose Electric the letters fade
fissioned people flew and flunked out the bass bounces off your temples
here we lost speech the articles of thought
the Ear
Oh half-man oedipus listen to the bar and bag of music go by the
tiger bait the curver at the bat is always like a french movie.
AntiOedipus went through the body without organs and felt nothing
returned and felt paradise and the wielding sparrow
went throught the body without disease

And half-oedipus isjust his other name than self which is the
real name for false dross and no beginnings and asphasiac memory disconnected


this Love ~ J.D a the grave of Gilles Deleuze

This love means an affirmative desire towards the Other - to respect the Other, to pay attention to the Other, not to destroy the otherness of the Other - and this is the preliminary affirmation, even if afterwards because of this love, you ask questions. There is some negativity in deconstruction. I wouldn't deny this. You have to criticise, to ask questions, to challenge and sometimes to oppose. What I have said is that in the final instance, deconstruction is not negative although negativity is no doubt at work. Now, in order to criticise, to negate, to deny, you have first to say "yes". When you address the Other, even if it is to oppose the Other, you make a sort of promise - that is, to address the Other as Other, not to reduce the otherness of the Other, and to take into account the singularity of the Other. That's an irreducible affirmation, its the original ethics if you want. So from that point of view, there is an ethics of deconstruction. Not in the usual sense, but there is an affirmation. You know, I often use a quote from Rosensweig or even from Levinas which says that the "yes" is not a word like others, that even if you do not pronounce the word, there is a "yes" implicit in every language, even if you multiply the "no", there is a "yes". And this is even the case with Heidegger. You know Heidegger, for a long time, for years and years kept saying that thinking started with questioning, that questioning (fragen) is the dignity of thinking. And then one day, without contradicting this statement, he said "yes, but there is something even more originary than questioning, than this piety of thinking," and it is what he called zusage which means to acquiesce, to accept, to say "yes", to affirm. So this zusage is not only prior to questioning, but it is supposed by any questioning. To ask a question, you must first tell the Other that I am speaking to you. Even to oppose or challenge the Other, you must say "at least I speak to you", "I say yes to our being in common together". So this is what I mean undetanding love as affirmation, the literature of affirmation the poetry of .

In the hour of this moment,
this second

as these words spoken By Derrida at the graveside of Deleuze.

This post in one sense is for my old friend Josh, Rojan Josh, a one time student of Jack Derrida, and who I conversed with 10 years ago, over a period of many months, about deconstruction and desiring-machines, deterritorialization and deconstruction, their differences and similarities.