Women, Freedom, Entrapment, Strategy

[SeekerOfWisdom]

Watcha talking about man? Was a song.


Glad you got chuckles :D

[Diebert van Rhijn]

I rather see this as critique of his brothers having little or nothing to do with women at all. But that's what happens when the 'male principle' is thought to be the engine of everything ;)

(beat me to it, Diebert :)

When a man beats a woman... But since we're talking engines like real men, we could talk about heart beats as well. The cardiac cycle with its contractions and relaxations as the engine of transport of life, food, energy, protection. But going beyond any "male principle" or any other contracted term, I'd like to think of the mysterious myogenic contraction, the self-starting engine instead. To me it has always been about ignition and not about the complex dynamics of counter-balances, forces summoning each other into existence like stream and duct, with all its branches, eddies and underground reservoirs.

[guest_of_logic]

Watcha talking about man? Was a song.

Huh. It's not even original to you. And there I was all impressed by your creativity.

[Pye]

Dennis writes:
language 'does' something.

softening the curse is 'in order to',
....
and yet an inauthentic, rehearsed niceness,
'in the presence of that'
'jars'.
'is jarring'.

Don't tell me I'm overthinking it please.

You're overthinking it? Goodness, whilst offline, I went back on my own thought about "fuck-it," thinking it most apt, really, as a curse, for even though I brought up its [actual fucking's] bittersweet pleasures, some of it is, well, bitter, in its relentless drive and no-guarantee of resultant well-being. These wonderfully twisted ambivalences give 'being-fucked' or 'fuck-it' its real piquancy! :)

Yes, yes, you're right about the inauthentic rehearsed niceness [of code-cursing], but I'd like to plead my use of it more as just rehearsed niceness, as opposed to inauthentic, for the few times these little code-curses get dropped into the mix (and I choose these moments well, I believe) not a single student seems to misunderstand the rhetorical punch through their sudden gust of laughter . . . .

Sorry about the obscurity of frack. I might have been assuming context not-yet there. Here in the States rages the debate about "fracking" - a rather earthly intrusive process for extracting natural gas out of shale deep beneath the surface, to feed the endless mouth of modernity its pablum of fossil fuels. It's a rather socio-politically active campus I'm on, so they've been gedding it :)

This is one holiday I actually like, celebrate . . . it's a secular holiday, this time-thing. It's a holiday dealing with humans dealing with time, the passing-of, the experiences here-in, a moment to consider one moment to the next: its seamlessness, as well as the experiences it marks out. So, Happy New Year to down under and across the globe. I'll be meeting you over the [imaginary] line in 10 more hours . . . . Go into the temples of mind to support, struggle-with, dissolve, or mark the idea of time, timelessness, as well as the joy of its lived experience . . . . :)



edit: to add 'dissolve' and 'timelessness'! these, too . . . .

[Pye]

celebrate = I give meaning-to.

[Dennis Mahar]

Yes, yes, you're right about the inauthentic rehearsed niceness [of code-cursing], but I'd like to plead my use of it more as just rehearsed niceness, as opposed to inauthentic

Wow, that opened something up for me.
What opened up was me putting the word 'inauthentic' in there out of a cynical streak.
Thanks.

celebrate = I give meaning-to.

Happy New Year champ.

[Pye]

Dennis writes: What opened up was me putting the word 'inauthentic' in there out of a cynical streak.

Beneath a lot of cynicism lurks the heart of a persistent idealist :)

[Dennis Mahar]

Pye,

Beneath a lot of cynicism lurks the heart of a persistent idealist :)

Well played lass!

Perspicacious.

'looking through'
of course, in duality, idealism carries a modicum of cynicism.
perfect pals.

Is the pot calling the kettle black?

[Pye]

Dennis writes: Is the pot calling the kettle black? [re: cynicist/idealist]

Many a cynic, when called out, will say that they are simply realists. Both can make the same observations (cynics and realists), but only one of them feels bitter about it. Only one of them is really disappointed.

[Dennis Mahar]

'high hopes' got dashed back on the time track if you know what I mean.
a thin layer of protection got lacquered on that fronts up to 'dogshit' reality.

Who does vulnerable anyway?
Is anyone that stoopid?

Cagey mind standing guard for Spirit.

What do you say after you say hello?
as a context for avoiding prangs.


Clamouring World don't let you rest in 'pass the potato's please'.

doing 'nice and polite' deftly avoids stepping in yet another pile of dogshit.
'Clean shoes' is indeed a fantastic option.

Nevertheless, it ain't walkin' on sunshine.

Pye,
tell me.

How does Spirit get to fly?

no bolshevik please.
full access.

[Pye]

Dennis asks: How does Spirit get to fly?

It'll fly as soon as it's grounded.

[Dennis Mahar]

It'll fly as soon as it's grounded.

It is.
This is it.

[Pye]

:)

[brad walker]

There is a kind of wild and crazy love: the love of the poets I call it. Everyone has to know it at one time or another. Some 'romantics' hang everything on it and will happily sacrifice everything...for just a half glass more. That too is something most everyone has had to live. But real 'love' must be (I think) sober, conscious, something that seeps out like a residue, a strange form of sweat, a sap. With that sort of love we can actually do something.

Material thus has three principal characteristics: it is a molecularized
matter; it has a relation to forces to be harnessed; and it is defined by the
operations of consistency applied to it. Finally, it is clear that the relation to
the earth and the people has changed, and is no longer of the romantic type.
The earth is now at its most deterritorialized: not only a point in a galaxy,
but one galaxy among others. The people is now at its most molecularized:
a molecular population, a people of oscillators as so many forces of interaction.
The artist discards romantic figures, relinquishes both the forces of
the earth and those of the people. The combat, if combat there is, has
moved. The established powers have occupied the earth, they have built
people's organizations. The mass media, the great people's organizations
of the party or union type, are machines for reproduction, fuzzification
machines that effectively scramble all the terrestrial forces of the people.
The established powers have placed us in the situation of a combat at once
atomic and cosmic, galactic. Many artists became aware of this situation
long ago, even before it had been installed (Nietzsche, for example). They
became aware of it because the same vector was traversing their own
domain: a molecularization, an atomization of the material, coupled with
a cosmicization of the forces taken up by that material. The question then
became whether molecular or atomic "populations" of all natures (mass
media, monitoring procedures, computers, space weapons) would continue
to bombard the existing people in order to train it or control it or
annihilate it—or if other molecular populations were possible, could slip
into the first and give rise to a people yet to come. As Virilio says in his very
rigorous analysis of the depopulation of the people and the
deterrito-rialization of the earth, the question has become: "To dwell as a
poet or as an assassin?"56 The assassin is one who bombards the existing
people with molecular populations that are forever closing all of the
assemblages, hurling them into an ever wider and deeper black hole. The
poet, on the other hand, is one who lets loose molecular populations in
hopes that this will sow the seeds of, or even engender, the people to
come, that these populations will pass into a people to come, open a
cosmos. Once again, we must not make it seem as though the poet gorged on metaphors: it may be that the
sound molecules of pop music are at this very moment implanting here and
there a people of a new type, singularly indifferent to the orders of the
radio, to computer safeguards, to the threat of the atomic bomb. In this
respect, the relation of artists to the people has changed significantly: the
artist has ceased to be the One-Alone withdrawn into him- or herself, but
has also ceased to address the people, to invoke the people as a constituted
force. Never has the artist been more in need of a people, while stating most
firmly that the people is lacking—the people is what is most lacking. We
are not referring to popular or populist artists. Mallarme said that the Book
needed a people. Kafka said that literature is the affair of the people. Klee
said that the people is essential yet lacking. Thus the problem of the artist is
that the modern depopulation of the people results in an open earth, and by
means of art, or by means to which art contributes. Instead of being bombarded
from all sides in a limiting cosmos, the people and the earth must be
like the vectors of a cosmos that carries them off; then the cosmos itself will
be art. From depopulation, make a cosmic people; from
deterritorializa-tion, a cosmic earth—that is the wish of the artisan-artist,
here, there, locally. Our governments deal with the molecular and the
cosmic, and our arts make them their affair also, with the same stakes, the
people and the earth, and with unfortunately incomparable, but
nevertheless competitive, means. Is it not of the nature of creations to
operate in silence, locally, to seek consolidation everywhere, to go from the
molecular to an uncertain cosmos, whereas the processes of destruction
and conservation work in bulk, take center stage, occupy the entire
cosmos in order to enslave the molecular and to stick it in a conservatory
or a bomb?
These three "ages," the classical, romantic, and modern (for lack of a
better term), should not be interpreted as an evolution, or as structures separated
by signifying breaks. They are assemblages enveloping different
Machines, or different relations to the Machine. In a sense, everything we
attribute to an age was already present in the preceding age. Forces, for
example: it has always been a question of forces, designated either as forces
of chaos or forces of the earth. Similarly, for all of time painting has had the
project of rendering visible, instead of reproducing the visible, and music
of rendering sonorous, instead of reproducing the sonorous. Fuzzy aggregates
have been constituting themselves and inventing their processes of
consolidation all along. A freeing of the molecular was already found in
classical matters of content, operating by destratification, and in romantic
matters of expression, operating by decoding. The most we can say is that
when forces appear as forces of the earth or of chaos, they are not grasped
directly as forces but as reflected in relations between matter and form.
Thus it is more a question of thresholds of perception, or thresholds of
discernibility belonging to given assemblages. It is only after matter has
been sufficiently deterritorialized that it itself emerges as molecular and
brings forth pure forces attributable only to the Cosmos. It had been present
"for all of time," but under different perceptual conditions. New conditions
were necessary for what was buried or covered, inferred or concluded,
presently to rise to the surface. What was composed in an
assemblage, what was still only composed, becomes a component of a new
assemblage. In this sense, all history is really the history of perception, and
what we make history with is the matter of a becoming, not the subject matter
of a story. Becoming is like the machine: present in a different way in
every assemblage, passing from one to the other, opening one onto the
other, outside any fixed order or determined sequence.

[Dennis Mahar]

Pye,

:)

Dennis,

:) (:

[Pye]

Dennis:
It is.
This is it.

Even better without the 'it.' Maybe even without the "this."

[Diebert van Rhijn]

Denn-- no is, e?

[brad walker]

I am still playing, less dangerously.