read don't walk or walk right in

AntILogos_ A-- _ Literary Machine: wrote

‘People do not need an introduction: Why does anyone need an “introduction” to a book that speaks so well for itself. In fact, the  book does just fine, so I would say to anyone needing a so called intro Just Read the book. It’s simple go to page and one and move along.The book , will teach you how to read  it, and so you will your own senses.
                                                       ….. what’s so aggravatin’ is  the idea that anyone needs an introduction. Do you need an introduction to music you like or that someone tells you about? No, well it’s the same thing with good books.

Don’t be a rhizombie_ be a schizoid thinker! sTART in the middle  and go. Or start at the front and go, but go you gotta go you must.’

The same goes for most books, read them for yourself, enjoy them or not and then move on, and use them as they work for you.
I don’t wish to sound stern, but bayjayzus! there’s a bloody industry that’s just insanely devoted to introductions, prefaces, prologues and what not.         ….
The least stern of readers suggest Read for yourself~ With Joy  ~.


what a rest ___-----------------Out for a wa lk ////////////////////________________)..................>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

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, 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."

                              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.

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."la 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. Their
various gaits and methods of self-locomotion constitute, in and of themselves, a
finely tuned machine. And then there is the function of the bicycle in Beckett's
works: what relationship does the bicycle-horn machine have with the
mother-anus machine?
       What  a  rest
 rest to speak of bicycles and horns. Unfortunately it is not of them I have to
speak, but of her who brought me into the world, through the hole in her arse if
my memory is correct."
                                          "What    a    REST

rest to speak of bicycles and horns. Unfortunately it is not of them I have to
speak, but of her who brought me into the world, through the hole in her arse if
my memory is correct."                                                           It is often thought that Oedipus* is an easy subject to
deal with, something perfectly obvious, a "given" that is there from the very
beginning. But that is not so at all: Oedipus presupposes a fantastic repression of
desiring-machines. And why are they repressed? To what end?

                                                               Is it really
necessary or desirable to submit to such repression? And what means are to be
used to accomplish this? What ought to go inside the Oedipal triangle, what sort
of thing is required to construct it? Are a bicycle horn and my mother's arse
sufficient to do the

Aren't there more important questions than these,
however? Given a certain effect, what machine is capable of producing it? And
given a certain machine, what can it be used for? Can we possibly guess, for
instance, what a knife rest is used for if all we are given is a geometrical

description of it? Or yet another example: on being confronted with a complete
machine made up of six stones in the right-hand pocket of my coat (the pocket
that serves as the source of the stones), five stones in the right-hand pocket of my
trousers, and five in the left-hand pocket (transmission pockets), with the
remaining pocket of my coat receiving the stones that have already been handled,
as each of the stones moves forward one pocket, how can we determine the effect
of this circuit of distribution in which the mouth, too, plays a role as a
stone-sucking machine? Where in this entire circuit do we find the production of
sexual pleasure? At the end of Malone Dies, Lady Pedal takes the schizophrenics
out for a ride in a van and a rowboat, and on a picnic in the midst of nature: an
infernal machine is being assembled. "Under the skin the body is an over-heated
factory,/ and outside,/ the invalid shines,/ glows,/ from every burst pore."

This does not mean that we are attempting to make nature one of the poles
of schizophrenia. What the schizophrenic experiences, both as an individual and
as a member of the human species, is not at all any one specific aspect of nature,
but nature as a process of production. What do we mean here by process? It is
probable that at a certain level nature and industry are two separate and distinct


things: from one point of view, industry is the opposite of nature; from another,
industry extracts its raw materials from nature; from yet another, it returns its
refuse to nature; and so on. Even within society, this characteristic man-nature,
industry-nature, society-nature relationship is responsible for the dis-

tinction of relatively autonomous spheres that are called production,
distribution, consumption. But in general this entire level of distinctions,
examined from the point of view of its formal developed structures,
presupposes (as Marx has demonstrated) not only the existence of
capital and the division of labor, but also the false consciousness that the
capitalist being necessarily acquires, both of itself and of the supposedly
fixed elements within an over-all process.

                                               For the real truth of the
matter—the glaring, sober truth that resides in delirium—is that there is
no such thing as relatively independent spheres or circuits: production is
immediately consumption and a recording process (enregistrement*),
                                            without any sort of mediation, and the recording process and consumption
directly determine production, though they do so within the
                                   production process itself.

He    erything is production: production of
productions, of actions and of passions; productions of recording
processes, of distributions and of co-ordinates that serve as points of
reference; productions of consumptions, of sensual pleasures, of anxieties,
and of pain. Everything is production, since the recording processes
are immediately consumed, immediately consummated, and these consumptions
directly reproduced.+ This is the first meaning of process as
we use the term: incorporating recording and consumption within
production itself, thus making them the productions of one and the same

                               Second, we make no distinction between man and nature



human essence of nature and the natural essence of man become one

within nature in the form of production or industry, just as they do

within the life of man as a species.







.. whole an ......... pArt

The Whole and its Parts
                                               ‘(Hence) Proust maintained that the Whole itself is a product,
produced as nothing more than a part alongside other parts, which it
neither unifies nor totalizes, though it has an effect on these other parts
simply because it establishes aberrant paths of communication between
noncommunicating vessels, transverse unities between elements that
retain all their differences within their own particular boundaries.
in the trip on the train in In Search of Lost Time, there is never a totality
of what is seen nor a unity of the points of view, except along the
transversal that the frantic passenger traces from one window to the
other, “in order to draw together, in order to reweave intermittent and
opposite fragments.”
This drawing together, this reweaving is what
Joyce called re-embodying. The body without organs is produced as a
whole, but in its own particular place within the process of production,
alongside the parts that it neither unifies nor totalizes.
And when it
operates on them, when it turns back upon them (se rabat sur elles), it
brings about transverse communications, transfinite summarizations,
polyvocal and transcursive inscriptions on its own surface, on which the
functional breaks of partial objects are continually intersected by breaks
in the signifying chains, and by breaks effected by a subject that uses
them as reference points in order to locate itself.
The whole not only
coexists with all the parts; it is contiguous to them, it exists as a product
                             that is produced apart from them and yet at the same time is related to
them. Geneticists have noted the same phenomenon in the particular
                                                 language of their science: “… amino acids are assimilated individually
into the cell, and then are arranged in the proper sequence by a
mechanism analogous to a template onto which the distinctive side chain
of each acid keys into its proper position.”

As a general rule, the
problem of the relationships between parts and the whole continues to
be rather awkwardly formulated by classic mechanism and vitalism, so
long as the whole is considered as a totality derived from the parts, or as
an original totality from which the parts emanate, or as a dialectical
totalization. Neither mechanism nor vitalism has really understood the
nature of desiring-machines, nor the twofold need to consider the role of
production in desire and the role of desire in mechanics.

 Antioedipus - The Desiring-Machines 43-4




Jung and easily Freudened!????????????


I find this so strange claiming that D&G are Jungian instead of Freudian. A bit odd! I'd say they are neither. Besides its Felix Guattari who did therapies and analysis not Gilles Deleuze.  Neither of them were 'yjung and easily freudended!' as James Joyce quipped in Finnegans Wake____seriously schizoanalysis is a machine assemblage that uses whatever is at hand. The  idea of usefulness (theory wise and practice wise) i.e. Never Interpret but find out how  agiven machine (A/O) and how a strata can be tipped (AtP) into a molecular line(s) of flight to any given Outside.

___________________besides who gives a hoot?______________________________

it either works And dont