6/23/2011

re sunbeams ass

                               You've posted about this before : Sunbeams up his a(r)s(e)s Yes, and it's because I am fascinated by
the energy it contains ~ so we'll come back to it again and again it's the refrain in it, the repetition,
of the energy                            that interests me ~ it comes, becomes a nother piece in a puzzle
that s repeating

over the ridges ~ of the silence and between ~ . ridges ~ of the silence and between ~ . ridges ~ f e silence and between ~ . and it's because we're still interested in the ideas  __ for instance , how does figuration, as in a character in a  poem, say Satan in Milton's Paradise Lost, figure as the absconded near to abandoned damned figure of immanence return in daily life? as the reminder of what's been blamed and blemished?


Satan as the figure of psychosis and the lines of immanence moving along their passage in  what you call the flat plane __ the lines move in parallel shootings over the plane. Lucifer/Satan's figure is hammered out    ~ and more and more between what's written and not written.


It is maybe the case, that immanence, at least it's my belief, that immanence as such is only coming into its own with the end of earth and the solar system and man as its center or really god as its center t hat immanence like the relativity of physics has only come to the fore , to the fore,
fore to the come
fores to coming
with the advent of 'man ' heading 'into' 'Outer space'; to boldly go 
where no other transcendence has gone!


Outer space, is immanence  


________________________ And so sunbeams ?

Well yes, its a like a jazz motif, eh, we start off there and go somewhere else.. in this line of improvisation the lines can take you anywhere... Right across space! this
time roun....



there's  a great line in A/O
write with Slogans
and that 's what
do

it
s

groovy good  ~ .

_____________________________________________




Remained Marxists

to our


Our Friend Karl Marx











Felix Guattari and I have remained Marxists, in our two different ways, perhaps, but both of us. You see, we think any political philosophy must turn on the analysis of capitalism and the ways it has developed. What we find most interesting in Marx is his analysis of capitalism as an immanent system that’s constantly overcoming its own limitations, and then coming up against them once more in a broader form, because its fundamental limit is capital itself.











Gilles Deleuze






________________________ReBlOGged From TumBlr DiGiTal PIDgIN
http://digitalpidgin.tumblr.com/post/6754340529/felix-guattari-and-i-have-remained-marxists-in


  1.  buffleheadcabin reblogged this from rumagin
  2.  rumagin reblogged this from digitalpidgin




  3.  movementsandmoments reblogged this from digitalpidgin



  4.  decadentia reblogged this from seasonsonearth
  5.  therevolutionwillnotbetweeted reblogged this from fuckyeahneo-marxism
  6.  fuckyeahneo-marxism reblogged this from digitalpidgin
  7.  anarchistreview reblogged this from ghoulmann
  8.  ghoulmann reblogged this from seasonsonearth
  9.  seasonsonearth reblogged this from empirevalley
  10.  empirevalley reblogged this from digitalpidgin
  11.  digitalpidgin posted this
__________________________________________________

Several Marx Not One ~ a plateau of Marx desiring-machines ~ .
_____

6/13/2011

Sunbeams up his a(r)s(e)s

                         




                                                                      Judge Schreber has sunbeams in his ass. A solar
anus. 


                                                              And rest assured that it works: Judge Schreber feels something, produces
something, and is capable of explaining the process theoretically. 


                                      Something is
produced:


                           the effects of a machine, not mere metaphors. (Jesse Watkins~interview with Laing) 






A schizophrenic out for a walk is a better model than a neurotic lying on the
analyst's couch.                       A breath of fresh air, a relationship with the outside world.
                                          Lenz's stroll, for example, as reconstructed by Buchner. This walk                 


                                                                       outdoors is
different from the moments when 




                                                                Lenz finds himself closeted with his pastor,
who forces him to situate himself socially, in relationship to the God of
established religion, in relationship to his father, to his mother.




                                                   While taking a
stroll outdoors, on the other hand,


 he
 is
 in 


                       the 
                                                                        mountains, 
                                                                                                             
                                                                                                              amid




 falling




snowfiakes, 




with other gods 

                                   or 
                                                                              

                                         without any gods at all, '




              (the unconscious is atheist   ~ nature is atheist)


' without a family, 


                                 without




a father or a mother, with nature.


 "What does my father want? Can he offer me
more than that? Impossible. Leave me in peace." '


(Lenz versus Jesus and his father mother ... machinery ) (
(his law and iota business)



' Everything is a machine.




Celestial machines, the stars or rainbows in the sky, alpine machines— all of
them connected to those of his body.


                                     The continual whirr of machines. "He
thought that it must be a feeling of endless bliss to be in contact with the
                                                                    




 profound life of every form,
                         to have a soul for rocks, metals, water, and plants, to


take into himself, as in a dream, every element of nature, like flowers that breathe  with                  
                                             the waxing and waning of the moon. 



 To be a chlorophyll- or a
photosynthesis-machine, or at least slip his body into such machines as one part
among the others.


 Lenz has projected himself back to a time before the
man-nature dichotomy, before all the co-ordinates based on this fundamental
dichotomy have been laid down.


                                        He does not live nature as nature, but as a
process of production. 


                                                                                  There is no such thing as either man or nature now, only a
process that produces the one within the other and couples the machines together.






                                           Producing-machines, desiring-machines everywhere, schizophrenic machines, all
        
of species life: the self and the non-self, outside and inside, 


                                                                                           no longer have any
meaning whatsoever.
------------'------Now that we have had a look at this stroll of a schizo, let us compare what
happens when Samuel Beckett's characters decide to venture outdoors.' ---------------------


Continued ----------in-------------------------A/O   ~ 9 (and)
----------------------------------------------------------------------

6/10/2011

thinks tonight









For there is no doubting the fact that the schizo is
constantly subjected to interrogation  ('how are you? how are you? how are you? flicked over the shoulder.... how are you feeling today? how are you doing? How are you?) , constantly cross-examined. 




Precisely
because his relationship with nature 


                           does not constitute a specific



pole, the questions put to him are formulated in terms of the existing
social code: your name, your father, your mother?



 In the course of his
exercises in desiring-production, Beckett's Molloy is cross-examined by
a policeman:

  "Your name is Molloy, said the sergeant. Yes, I said, now I
remember. And your mother? said the sergeant. I didn't follow. Is your
mother's name Molloy too? said the sergeant. I thought it over. Your
mother, said the sergeant, is your mother's— Let me think! I cried. At

least I imagine that's how it was. Take your time, said the sergeant. Was
mother's name Molloy? Very likely. Her name must be Molloy too, I
said. 

They took me away, to the guardroom I suppose,

 and there I was
told to sit down. 

I must have tried to explain."


(to explain to explain )
(and i dont explain because i hate common sense   ~ tristan tzara said that in 1918)
|||||||||||||||||||||||

At times the schizophrenic loses his patience and demands to be
left alone. 


 (did you hear  that? left alone left alone ... and they blame you they deem you 'mad' alone a lone mad  left to her devices   ~madas aharpoona poltroona pontoon? a tune to pawn your rakes the 'back of the lawn' if that's possible /quarry for the fishing bait   ~ .)

 Other times he goes along with the whole game and even
invents a few tricks of his own, introducing his own reference points in
the model put before him and undermining it from within 



("Yes, that's
my mother, all right, but my mother's the Virgin Mary, you know"). One
can easily imagine Schreber answering Freud: "Yes, I quite agree,
naturally the talking birds are young girls, and the superior God is my
daddy and the inferior God my brother." 



But little by little he will
surreptitiously "reimpregnate" the series of young girls with all talking
birds, his father with the superior God, and his brother with the inferior
God, all of them divine forms that become complicated, or rather
"desimplified," as they break through the simplistic terms and functions
of the Oedipal triangle. 

As Artaud put it:



I don't believe in father
in mother,

got no papamummy
I dont got no mammy pappy 
got no papamummy

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Citational dispersions  A/O [36-7] the antioedipus machinery    ~ touch and go to go   ~

___------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_____
the poor girltonight speaking thinks her 'mother's behind it all   ~. no doubt she does not think that but believes  ~ which aint the sameatall  ~ .


____________

knows

_________________________________________________________________




every lover knows this 
flow of democracy from 
the lips







every                                                                                                                                                  

                        lover 
            knows


 this 
                         flood










 of democracy from 


another


Another and not travelling salesman apologist for the powers that bein the monstrous strataterrors
_______________







6/08/2011

et d ~

________________________________________________________________


Even those who are best at "leaving," 


                      those who make leaving
                                                   into something as natural as being born or dying, 


                                                      those who set out in search of
nonhuman sex—Lawrence, Miller—stake out a far-off territoriality that still
forms an anthropomorphic and phallic representation: the Orient, Mexico, or
Peru.



A/O 315 etcetera  ~ to the burning book club ~ of your thighs



                                           Even the schizo's stroll or voyage does not effect great deterritori-alizations
without borrowing from territorial circuits: the tottering walk of Molloy and his
bicycle preserves the mother's room as


 the vestige of a goal; 


                        (Take Antioedipus for  example: One night making love with
 Moth his cockreadyhard for her cunt and holes of whole  anus,he say  to her 
                            (his cock's in her asnus) (her anushome) 
                 call me Oedipus, call me Oedipus, (heinheranus)
                    ( get in your ass ,, get in get in getting in beget in get it in)
         in her ass   in her ass he cries   Mama Mama Mummy! Mummy! I 'm in your                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               
                      ass at last  riding in your ass   ~. I'm in her assatlast )

                                                                         the vacillating spirals of The Unnamable
 keep the
 familial tower 
as an uncertain center
 where it
continues to turn
 while treading its own underfoot; 

the infinite series of


juxtaposed and unlocalized parks in Watt still contains a reference to Mr. Knott's
house, the only one capable of "pushing the soul out-of-doors," but also of
summoning it back to its place. 


We are all little dogs, we need circuits, and we
                                                                   (woof! Woof!
Bark of burn an bright of bark!)                                                                             need to be taken for walks.


(cock  of the walk
her cock ofthewalk
her cock
its her  cock)

(the schizophrenic line against the circus the circle )


 Even those best able to disconnect, to unplug
themselves, enter into connections of desiring-machines that re-form little earths.

Even Gisela Pankow's great deterritorialized subjects 


are led to discover the
image of a family castle under the roots of the uprooted tree that crosses through
their body without organs ~.


The uprooted uprotted tree    ~


------------------------------------d. T  ~