Sunday, 31 May 2009

Friday, 29 May 2009

Thursday, 28 May 2009

Sphinx=Fix, on Fixation/ η αγωνία του λόγου

Η Σφίγγα στέκεται στο σταυροδρόμι, ρωτώντας επίμονα κάθε περαστικό «Τί ἐστιν ὃ μίαν ἔχον φωνὴν τετράπουν καὶ δίπουν καὶ τρίπουν γίνεται;».Δεν παίρνει καμιά ικανοποιητική απάντηση, παρά μόνο βλέμματα γεμάτα τρόμο,τα οποία στραγγαλίζει.Εχει ανθρώπινη φωνή, και περιγράφει απλά αυτό που φαίνεται.Γιατί δεν μπορεί κανείς να το κατονομάσει;Ρωτάει τί είναι «αυτό» που ενώ μιλάει την ίδια γλώσσα, μοιράζεται τον ίδιο κόσμο, παρόλαυτα διαφέρει απο εκείνη κατά το μέρος , που η ίδια μπορεί να διακρίνει σκύβοντας το κεφάλι της για να κοιτάξει τον εαυτό της: στα πόδια.Η Σφίγγα δεν θέτει κανένα αίνιγμα στον άλλο, παρά αυτό που εμμονικά βασανίζει την ίδια.Την απάντηση την δίνει ο Οιδίποδας.Αυτός που από βρέφος υποφέρει από τα δύο του πόδια.Αυτός που το να στηρίζεται σε αυτά όρθιος, δεν το θεωρεί αυτονόητο.Αυτός λοιπόν απαντάει οτι όποιος κατά την διάρκεια της ζωής του στέκεται στα 4, στα 2 και στα 3, είναι Ανθρωπος.Και τότε έρχεται η μοιραία συνειδητοποίηση: τότε εκείνη, είναι Τέρας.Η αποκάλυψη αυτή είναι που την στέλνει αυτόβουλα στον αφανισμό της.Ο περαστικός, ο άνω θρώσκων, θα έφτανε να κοιτάξει απλά χαμηλά, για να σώσει τη ζωή του, όπως και η Ιοκάστη θα έφτανε να δει την μορφή του Οιδίποδα για να αναγνωρίσει τον γιο της.

Το ερώτημα αντεστραμμένο:άρρενες, τί έστι Φιξ;

Monday, 25 May 2009

Saturday, 23 May 2009

Pentheus Silly



Dionysiac Poetics and Euripides Bacchae, by Charles Segal

Friday, 22 May 2009

nocturnae pervigilationes


http://www.boomkat.com/item.cfm?id=169763

Tuesday, 19 May 2009

φό_νημα

Η φωνή σου είναι κίτρινη με φλέβες
που πυκνώνουν και ιριδίζουν.
Τρέχει σαν αγόρι στα μάρμαρα καλοκαίρι
και κόβεται σαν σιδερένια αυλόπορτα
που τρίζοντας κλείνουν.
Η φωνή σου αλλάζει σαν γυναίκα αυτάρεσκη
που γελάει δοκιμάζοντας παριζιάνικα καπέλα.
Σαν το φίδι γλυστράει και γίνεται
σιγαστήρας σε παλιά νεανικά μανιφέστα.
Η φωνή σου.Μου τη στέλνεις κρυμμένη
σε ανώνυμα γράμματα.
Λες και τα χείλη μου δεν την γνωρίζουν.

Saturday, 16 May 2009

no olvidas



Teresa

healing

video
They are ill discoverers that think there is no land, when they can see nothing but the sea.
[Sir Francis Bacon]

self/critic_isms

"Effectively, one is tempted to raise the question: what if Angleton was a mole justifying his activity by the search for a mole (for himself, in the real life version of Kevin Costner's No Way Out plot)? What if the true KGB Monster Plot was the very project to put in circulation the idea of a Monster Plot and thus immobilize the CIA and neutralize in advance the future KGB defectors? In both cases, the ultimate deception assumed the guise of truth itself: there was a Monster Plot (it was the very idea of the Monster Plot); there was a mole in the heart of CIA (Angleton himself). Therein resides the truth of the paranoiac stance: it is itself the destructive plot against which it is fighting. The nicety of this solution - and the ultimate condemnation of Angleton's paranoia - is that it doesn't matter if Angleton was just sincerely duped by the idea of a Monster Plot, or if he was the mole: in both cases, the result is exactly the same. The deception resided in our failure to include in the list of suspects the very idea of (globalized) suspicion - to put under suspicion the very idea of suspicion."

Thursday, 14 May 2009

Che Vuoi?

http://www.lacan.com/zizkubrick.htm

Bauman Vs. Baumann

"Liquid Modernity" is Bauman's term for the present condition of the world as contrasted with the "solid" modernity that preceded it. According to Bauman, the passage from "solid" to "liquid" modernity has created a new and unprecedented setting for individual life pursuits, confronting individuals with a series of challenges never before encountered. Social forms and institutions no longer have enough time to solidify and cannot serve as frames of reference for human actions and long-term life plans, so individuals have to find other ways to organise their lives. Individuals have to splice together an unending series of short-term projects and episodes that don't add up to the kind of sequence to which concepts like "career" and "progress" could be meaningfully applied. Such fragmented lives require individuals to be flexible and adaptable — to be constantly ready and willing to change tactics at short notice, to abandon commitments and loyalties without regret and to pursue opportunities according to their current availability. In liquid modernity the individual must act, plan actions and calculate the likely gains and losses of acting (or failing to act) under conditions of endemic uncertainty.
[Zygmunt Bauman_wikipedia]


In 1972 he escaped and traveled to various countries, including Syria, Iran, Afghanistan and India. In 1975 his autobiography Wie alles anfing ("How it all began") was published (translated as Terror or Love? in 1979). In it he describes his personal evolution into a proponent of urban guerrilla warfare, and comments critically on armed struggle. This edition, from the Munich publishers Trikont, was seized by police after its appearance because of its supposed incitement to violence. A nationwide search was ordered immediately. In 1976, however, more than 300 left-wing writers and publishers from several European countries, some of them quite prominent, united to protest this censorship. They published an unchanged new edition, which could be sold without problems.
[Bommi Baumann_wikipedia]

this is not a love song

Wednesday, 13 May 2009

Wednesday, 6 May 2009

Ω

Για να ακριβολογούμε, η διαστροφή είναι το ανεστραμμένο αποτέλεσμα της φαντασίωσης.Το ίδιο το υποκείμενο ορίζει τον εαυτό του ως αντικείμενο κατά τη συνάντησή του με τον διχασμό της υποκειμενικότητας…Στον βαθμό που το υποκείμενο καθιστά εαυτόν αντικείμενο μιας αλλότριας βούλησης, το κύκλωμα της σαδομαζοχιστικής ενόρμησης όχι μόνο κλείνει, αλλά συγκροτείται ως τέτοιο…ο σαδιστής καταλαμβάνει τη θέση του αντικειμένου, χωρίς όμως να το γνωρίζει, προς όφελος κάποιου άλλου, για την απόλαυση του οποίου δραστηριοποιείται ως διεστραμμένος σαδιστής.
[J.Lacan, Le seminaire, Livre XI, Les quatre concepts fondamentaux de la psychanalyse, Seuil 1973, p.168]

Tuesday, 5 May 2009

the beautiful one has arrived

 
(belle âme) The beautiful soul (Ger. schöne Seele) is a stage in the dialectic of self-consciousness which Hegel describes in the Phenomenology of Spirit (Hegel, 1807). The beautiful soul projects its own disorder onto the world and attempts to cure this disorder by imposing ‘the law of the heart’ on everyone else. For Lacan, the beautiful soul is a perfect metaphor for the ego; ‘the ego of modern man…has taken on its form in the dialectical impasse of the belle âme who does not recognise his very own raison d’être in the disorder that he denounces in the world’ (E, 70). In a more extreme way, the beautiful soul also illustrates the structure of paranoiac misrecognition (see MÉCONNAISSANCE)
 (Ec, 172–3).
The concept of the beautiful soul illustrates the way that neurotics often deny their own responsibility for what is going on around them (see ACT). The ethics of psychoanalysis enjoin analysands to recognise their own part in their sufferings. Thus when Dora complains about being treated as an object of exchange by the men around her, Freud’s first intervention is to confront her with her own complicity in this exchange (Ec, 218–19; see Freud, 1905e).

lov

As the stars of the heaven, and as the sand
which is upon the sea shore.
[Genesis 22]

the script is writing me

Sunday, 3 May 2009

samsara

vive la differance

nico

Midnight winds are landing at the end of time
Midnight winds are landing at the end of time
A true story wants to be mine
A true story wants to be mine
The story is telling a true lie
The story is telling a true lie
Mandolins are ringing to his viol singing
Mandolins are ringing to his viol singing

Midnight winds are landing at the end of time
Midnight winds are landing at the end of time
Dungeon's sinking to a slumber to the end of time
Dungeon's sinking to a slumber to the end of time
Petrel sings the domebells pound into the unended end of time
Petrel sings the domebells pound into the unended end of time

Midnight winds are landing at the end of time
Midnight winds are landing at the end of time
In the morning of my winter
When my eyes are still asleep
In the morning of my winter
When my eyes are still asleep
A dragonfly laying in a coat of snow
I'll send to kiss your heart for me
A dragonfly laying in a coat of snow
I'll send to kiss your heart for me

Midnight winds are landing at the end of time
Midnight winds are landing at the end of time
The children are jumping in the evening of light
The children are jumping in the evening of light
A thousand sins are heavy in the evening of light
A thousand sins are heavy in the evening of light

Midnight winds are landing at the end of time
Midnight winds are landing at the end of time