Hi Michael, It's an expression of optimism.... in the face of death we can still have a laugh... and hey, if it amused anyone it was language what did it... Remember the Woody Allen line in Annie Hall?... "All the books on death are mine"....
Bob ________________________________ From: Michael Szpakowski <[email protected]> To: NetBehaviour for networked distributed creativity <[email protected]> Sent: Sat, 12 December, 2009 15:24:22 Subject: Re: [NetBehaviour] "I want to ask Jacques Derrida a question." Hi Bob I take it that's an expression of scepticism? I'd be sorry to hear that it was about Alan's beautiful writing ( this piece in particular but his work in general), or Curt's helpful comments and not about Derrida (in which case, to a great extent, I share it). Bakhtin's another kettle of fish though, altogether clear, strikingly original and bracing stuff and makes most of the post-structuralists look like the tepid obscurantists they are. It's interesting though -there's a fine line to be walked between open-mindedness and gullibility or, to put it another way, between legitimate scepticism and philistinism. It's a line I've certainly erred from in both directions in the past and expect to again. best michael PS quite amusing too, if you are calling Curt for presumed pretension. This is a man who, in perhaps hotter headed days, posted images of a local agricultural fair to Rhizome. His work is some of the most grounded in the everyday wonder of life I've come across. --- On Sat, 12/12/09, bob catchpole <[email protected]> wrote: > From: bob catchpole <[email protected]> > Subject: Re: [NetBehaviour] "I want to ask Jacques Derrida a question." > To: "NetBehaviour for networked distributed creativity" > <[email protected]> > Date: Saturday, December 12, 2009, 11:27 AM > Or could it be that the > echo of the language flows across the space of the absence > to the ghost of the disembodied matter of it's own > arse? > > Bob > > Curt > Cloninger <[email protected]> wrote Fri, 11 December, > 2009 23:19:45 > > Bakhtin might disagree -- matter flows into language and > language > flows into matter (whatever matter and language may be). > > The echo of a touch: > http://lab404.com/misc/calling_over_time.mp3 > http://www.lab404.com/ior/hand.gif > > Curt > > > >And then, perhaps, it's evident that, given > semantic substance, all > >languages are networks across ethers, across absence - > all languages are > >ghosts calling ghosts. > > > >Thanks, Alan > > > > > >On Fri, 11 Dec 2009, Curt Cloninger wrote: > > > >> Thanks Alan, > >> > >> I like the poetry that this is. It works as > language across a network > >> of ether, ghost calling ghost. A disembodied > myth of disembodied > >> discourse. In real life/space/time I doubt > the event would have been > >> as poetic. In real life/space/time I would > have rather asked Bakhtin > >> an embodied utterance. We would have tasted > the banality of the > >> > moment like the fallen angel Peter Falk burning his > freshly incarnate > >> tongue on the material semiotically known as > coffee, now affectively > >> known as "ah! this!" in Wenders > "Wings of Desire." > >> > >> Loving Hand Turns Burning Sand to Water, > >> Curt > >> > >> > >> > >>> "I want to ask Jacques Derrida a > question." > >>> > >>> > >>> I want to ask Jacques Derrida a > question. > >>> > >>> It is question about death, not in > particular his death. > >>> > >>> But a question concerned with the aporia > of death, not necessarily his > >>> own. > >>> > >>> Such a question, which would have been > possible several years ago, is no > >>> longer possible. > >>> > >>> We are thrown back on the > words of Jacques Derrida. > >>> > >>> We are immured there. > >>> > >>> It would have been simple: Jacques, here > is what I want to know. > >>> > >>> Do you have a minute of your time. > >>> > >>> The body of Jacques Derrida still > exists. > >>> > >>> His body, phoric, carries the aporia. > >>> > >>> The aporia is not his own, nor can he > speak and return an unraveling. > >>> > >>> Today, words are never set in stone, and > questions go unanswered. > >>> > >>> Today, questions disappear, and their > occasion disappears. > >>> > >>> The occasion of a question: a gap, as in > a detective story. > >>> > >>> As if the question were sutured by an > answered, when in fact it is sutured > >>> by any > reply at all. > >>> > >>> An answer responds to a question; a > reply responds to the occasion of a > >>> question. > >>> > >>> I remember Jacques Derrida, and would > have tapped him on the shoulder, > >>> saying, excuse me, but ... > >>> > >>> There is an image I have of this > tapping: the softness of his jacket, the > >>> slight giving away of the flesh beneath, > and he turns towards me. > >>> > >>> When I move my hands, everything is > empty. > >>> > >>> Jacques Derrida is a remnant of matter. > >>> > >>> ... "If death" ... "names > the very irreplaceability of absolute > >>> singularity (no one can die in my place > or in the place of the other), > >>> then all the _examples_ in the world can > precisely illustrate > this > >>> singularity. Everyone's death, the > death of all those who can say 'my > >>> death,' is irreplaceable." ... > (Derrida, Aporias) > >>> > >>> When I move my hands: when my hands are > moved for me, are only moved for > >>> me: mise en scene, a scenario or > occurrence, chora. > >>> > >>> I do not collapse time, Jacques, in > order to speak to you: I speak to > >>> you. > >>> > >>> I do not collapse space, in order to > speak: I touch you lightly on your > >>> shoulder, I wait until you turn around, > your glance moves in my direction, > >>> momentarily you are caught up in my > gaze, you hesitate whether or not to > >>> return your own, your reply to my > question, you return such, as if such is > >>> returned, an exchange of gifts or > misrecognition. > >>> > >>> Of the good, there is the edge of a > knife, and the fall which surrounds > >>> it; of the spoken, there is a > comprehension, empathetic alignment, then > >>> nothing. > >>> > >>> Of the spoken, the knife edge separates > the question I give to Jacques as > >>> a gift, an awakening, and the reply > which shatters after a particular > >>> time, calculable, unattainable. > >>> > >>> Of the question: all questions are a > permanence: It is impossible to > > >> answer a question. > >>> > >>> Jacques turns; I look at his shoes. > Thinking of Van Gogh, of Heidegger, > >>> of Jacques Derrida, I take several > photographs. They are remnants, indices > >>> with lost referents; they are abject. I > am silent; I say nothing to > him, > >>> to Van Gogh, to Heidegger. Repeatedly I > raise the camera; eye-level, I aim > >>> downward, towards an incalculable earth. > The images, lost, are digital; > >>> they never were. Between one pixel and > another, a hole, precisely the > >>> width of death. > >>> > >>> > _______________________________________________ > >>> NetBehaviour mailing list > >>> [email protected] > >>> http://www.netbehaviour.org/mailman/listinfo/netbehaviour > >> > >> > _______________________________________________ > >> NetBehaviour mailing list > >> [email protected] > >> http://www.netbehaviour.org/mailman/listinfo/netbehaviour > >> > >> > > > > > >== > >email archive: http://sondheim.rupamsunyata.org/ > >webpage http://www.alansondheim.org > sondheimat gmail.com, panix.com > >== > >_______________________________________________ > >NetBehaviour mailing list > >[email protected] > >http://www.netbehaviour.org/mailman/listinfo/netbehaviour > > _______________________________________________ > NetBehaviour mailing list > [email protected] > http://www.netbehaviour.org/mailman/listinfo/netbehaviour > > > > > > > > > -----Inline Attachment Follows----- > > _______________________________________________ > NetBehaviour mailing list > [email protected] > http://www.netbehaviour.org/mailman/listinfo/netbehaviour _______________________________________________ NetBehaviour mailing list [email protected] http://www.netbehaviour.org/mailman/listinfo/netbehaviour
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