feed my love

feed ears on airwaves, en music and words——->ralph

“If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for i shall already have forgotten you…
my love feeds on your love, beloved,”
-neruda, “if you forget me”

these texts are wagering intimacy.
who do you love? who do you speak to?
do you forget me, who do you forget, when you love me and when you speak to me?

the breath is the vibration of waves. we think in breathe
but words are my enemy

they are some thing i just can not believe

faith is speech less. you speak, liar;
symmetry wings dare he aspire

in fear isolde love-death down river

we are not unique in the ways we enjoi. the drive is duplicitous, duplicative
e.g., no. i walked right past it. i wasnot even looking at it.

instead of all this endless searching and fasting, feed my love.

intimacy is not a knowing. we must wager the intimacy for it to be. we are always wagering blind.

come in side. you let me think to bring you in when instead you remain out side.

//fear of being lied to v. acceptance of the split drive//

we are not to be harmed in our lying. instead, we move in different directions at once.

in his preface to //time driven//, johnston explains, “Even if every external impediment were eliminated, the drives would spontaneously fabricate their own repression in order to preserve their fantasmatic forms of jouissance. Obtaining this jouissance would be the ultimate trauma for Trieb” (xxiv).

our drives are self-sabotaging. johnston relates this implicit double-cross to the two axes of the drive, iteration and alteration. one claims the same, and the other, absolute difference. johnston observes that our process of desiring is the same, whereas our fixation of desire is alternating always. the split of the drive is synonymous to our split in time. time is the precise psychoanalytic insight for johnston, as it relays the tension of subjectivization when the subject is always both constituted by history and also is becoming. dehisence is the reality of trieb–the drive. we are split, to move in contradictory directions, and we do not wish to achieve satisfaction.

trembling in facing the impossibility within possible is transfigured into a worship through self-limitation. we rely on external obstacles to protect us from realizing jouissance does not exist. we then, thru “libidinal cunning”…”transform externally imposed necesseties into internalized psychical virtues”…”the libindal econcomy comes to acquire a stake in its own inhibition” (johnston, //splitting the drive// xxxv). but let this inherent self-inhibition not make us fear intimacy, nor our trembling lead us to perpetual hesitation. we step in side and get ready for the confusing drive.

nightshade, ruby grape of proserpine

//intimacy is illegal//

there is a federal charge that carries great sentencing weight called conspiracy. it casts one as guilty if one knows crime to be construed with out reporting the knowledge. miller correctly observes in //the crucible// that “without confidences there could be no conspiracy.” the monstrosity of conspiracy is that among one and her others, conspiracy as criminality seeks to make us confidence-less.

the effect of the conspiracy charge is that it makes interpersonal intimacy illicit in the face of government allegiance. allegiance is from liege, a king; it instantiates a frame of mastery and slavery on the relationship of one to an other. the chilling message of the execution of the rosenbergs, charged for conspiracy to commit espionage (the first peace time espionage charge, for actions involving our political recent-ally-turned-enemy, which sent them to state-sponsored death): is there a problem when one’s political affiliation on face is declared to provide evidence of one’s guilt of conspiracy to overthrow the government? yes, but more nefariously, it is the chill that we’ve aestheticized politics to the extent that words do carry more weight than actions. the intimacy, not the extamacy, is the threat. what lies beneath the machine, which to all appearances, runs fine.

in esthétique-politique, we experience fascism. and the level at which conformity is demanded in fascism renders an intimacy–which is theoretically always at odds with univocal conformity–illegal.

//fidelity is truth//
truth is closed. the process of truth-telling, finding, creating, is love; love is open. we are loving and truth grows.

truth is our fidelity. it is wagered and leapt into in vain. it is unknowable–yet known. courting forgiving the impossibility of thought not to think it self and yet doubting it does.

love is opening more and more. it is dis-closure. not, like for heidegger, some thing hidden now tantalizingly revealed; we are reversing the closure.

in fidelity, we abide truth in a process of love. this is not the same as obedience/allegiance. allegiance is to a liege, a king. fidelity is action on behalf of faith, which is wholly unsubstantiatable, unlike allegiance, which must be rededicated through many rituals of consecration. faith is what is developed in intimacy.

fed up and dying

//come closer//

we need to develop a politics of people. not of the state. the politics of people works toward this truth of accident. in dis and en-closure.

bensaid describes the truth as an “event…characterized by the unpredictability of what might just as well not have occurred. This is what lends it an aura of ‘laicized grace’ (SP, 89). It comes about retroactively through the sovereign naming of its existence and the fidelity to the truth which comes to light in it.” in the very accident of its occurrence, we find the truth event to bear an interminable not/knot that demands us to relish the accident and forgive the arrogance of ego’s insistent prescriptive organizations.

knowledge and truth differ as truth is lived. we must wager to live into a truth that is evidently to be misnamed.

this risk is our subjectivization as struggle. bensaid quotes badiou to note: “[F]or Pascal, the world does not necessarily lead to God without the rigorously aleatory decision of the gambler who brings it into existence” (PP, 87). god only becomes god through our gamble, and likewise, man only becomes man in his wager to be so-called. we must relish in our gambling disorders! besaid continues, “For Badiou…man only attains genuine humanity, albeit an ephemeral one, through the event of his revolt.” in this “politics as pure will”
we need to beware the misgivings of our will to power. that our “majestic sovereignty” of subjet, whereby nothing “commands the whole,” not be side-tracked into arguments of an untenable position–of agency. yes, truth is situated; the event is lived not known. our determination of when are we ripe to live our truth helps us celebrate our gambling disorders. but i fear another “discourse of mastery” even if it be the preferred mastery of the subject to that of the fascistic state; must we speak only in terms of command? the risk is beautiful in itself, and it cannot be authorized nor celebrated as a purported substantiation of the ego-ideal it in fact renders superfluous.

oyster shells

//difference and distance//

the preoccupation with command figures in to an addiction to difference. it encourages all intimacy to be deemed conspiracy. it is an addiction to difference–which means obedience–what makes intimacy a conspiracy against mastery and slavery.

the love that connects does not threaten, unless it be that which bars freedom. and love behind bars is tortured.

do you wish to be different from an other, from your students, from your children, from your patients, from your lovers.

let not our analysis be a victory of manipulation–asserted through distance and difference.
what is the absolute difference sought by the analyst. is this not indifference? and unless we, machine men, this objective stasis be a lie.

//to forgiveness//

forgive the liar. i hope to reach a place where one does not feel compelled to lie. in this way, imagination and creativity diverge from the mask of the lie. for our intentions are not clear concrete objets, but objets a; we thus to them reinvent and reshape always. let us not obscure what is significant to get right–this is truth, which is “wrong” some times but not false. we can treat our jokes seriously.

—
feed love to move beyond allegiance, an obedience…toward an intimacy, a conspiracy–when we are all double agents to the split drive.