Hi all!  

I'm revving up for next week, but I would like to add some things to the 
discussion among Ian/Michael/Jack. I hope this will be useful. (Many of you are 
friends or friends-in-law, and I am showing fidelity to that by speaking and 
speaking frankly.)  I imagine that Patricia, having come to speak speculative 
realism, will have lots to say about this discussion too.  Me, I work on 
affects of attachment and the ways those dynamic movements within proximity 
engender forms of life--I'm on the Latour side of things, resonating with it 
through Laplanchean anaclitic psychoanalysis and an aesthetics derived from, 
without being orthodoxly, Spivak (unlearning), Deleuze ([un]becoming), and 
Cavell (ordinary language philosophy). Or, I'm a materialist queer writing 
sentences to induce some arts of transformation, which is I think why I am 
here, although I've wondered about that during the last few weeks.


1. Re the Bogost/Halberstam convo.


 Ian writes that "all objects equally exist, but not all objects exist 
equally," and I couldn't agree more. But like Jack I think it matters to attend 
to the relative impact of both clauses of this statement.  If you believe it 
then you have also to account for your own prioritization of things that seem 
normatively to be things over things that normatively seem to be human. As Jack 
points out, there's a complex political and definitional history there.


2.  But more interesting to me--and addressed to us all, not just Ian--why 
should thinking about things in relation not be interfered with by other 
idioms?  Recalling Zach's entries and my own inclinations too, where does 
interference (the glitch suspending the movement of the system, the noise that 
proceeds within which form manifests, take your pick) make its way into our 
methods, imaginaries, or concepts?  Why is Jack's attention to the history of 
what classes are served by disciplinary conventions deemed some kind of threat 
to productive conversation? 


Those of us who write from queer/feminist/antiracist/anticolonial commitments 
have debated a lot whether, how, and when it matters that some statements are 
held true as though the second clause,"but not all objects exist equally," 
didn't exist (this is, I think, Jack's argument against abstraction and 
universalism).  I like abstraction and universalism more than Jack does, but 
that's because my orientation is to want more of everything. not less of some 
things. I want the terms of transformation to proceed  through idiomatic 
extension and interruption, huge swoops and medial gestures, the internal 
frottage of contradiction and irreconcilable evidence... I'm an impurist.  What 
are the incommensurate ways we can address the scene of that thing in a way 
that changes that thing?


As Jack writes, it matters who is cited:  who we think with and the citations 
that point to them build and destroy worlds, they're both media and bugs in 
world-building. The clash of intellectual idioms is a political question too 
because it shapes the imaginary of description and exemplification. The clash 
of idioms is inconvenient, and I would like also to say that it's part of a 
queer problematic represented here certainly by Zach and Michael and Jack and 
me too, although I sense that where Jack and I are looking for discursive 
registers that allow us to say everything we know in all the ways we know it,  
Zach and Michael's fantastic written work is more likely to make arguments in 
specific idioms (sometimes sounding all cultural studies, sometimes critical 
theory, sometimes arguing in the modes of disciplinary philosophy) depending on 
the conversation.  We might also talk about polemics v analytics. I'm less 
polemical than some of us here.


I think it's important that we talk about this question of knowledge worlds (of 
accessibility, of purity [high/low, 
disciplinary/transdisciplinary/undisciplined/syncretic epistemologies and 
idioms]), in a discussion of queer new media and of how its criticality can 
operate.  


3.  Re Michael/Jack's argument about masculinism, Warner, etc.  I kind of agree 
with Michael and Ian that calling something masculinist (from you, Jack, that's 
kind of astonishing, but of course it was a shorthand for the elevation of 
abstraction over sensual life in all of its riven contestations) is probably 
not too clarifying or accurate, but it is pointing to something important, 
which has to do with "all objects equally exist, but not all objects exist 
equally."  Warner's practice has always been to posit queer as a practice and 
orientation as against identity politics, which he takes to be over-bound to 
the signifier (as does Edelman).  My orientation has been to attend what 
happens when we mix things up, or remix things up, and as I have written 
collaboratively with these two guys and been cast as the vulgarer in both 
cases, all I can say is it's always instructive to enter into the affective 
space where some things are anchors so other things can change. That's true for 
all of our practices, which is why I've spent some time here pondering what 
kinds of argument have gotten bracketed or foreclosed so that other things can 
seem innovative and productive...


Ta!  This is fun!
LB


Lauren Berlant

George M. Pullman Professor
Department of English
University of Chicago
Walker Museum 413
1115 E. 58th. St.
Chicago IL 60637



-----Original Message-----
From: Ian Bogost <ian.bog...@lcc.gatech.edu>
To: soft_skinned_space <empyre@lists.cofa.unsw.edu.au>
Sent: Thu, Jun 14, 2012 8:50 pm
Subject: Re: [-empyre-] Meillassoux / Harman


Joe,


Thanks for these great comments. 



I think it is because this resonance seems so fruitful to me that I am 
perplexed by some of the claims by proponents of OOO that the political can be 
separated from claims about the ontological if we are constrained in our own 
ways by our as-structures, then right from the outset we encounter the world of 
human and non-human objects as profoundly political, raising uncanny questions 
of co-existence whether we are human subjects or neutrinos or cypress-flames. 
So OOO, far from allowing us to discuss "what exists" in politically neutral 
spaces, rather radicalises the political questions of ecology and "being-with" 
into the realm of the non-human, so that all objects are trying to 'work out' 
how to exist with each other whether to congregate or flee, embrace or destroy, 
swap DNA and code sequences, or annex and withdraw.  This doesn't prescribe a 
particular flavour of politics, but it does seem to make the political at least 
"equiprimordial" with the ontological.  I'd love to hear people's responses to 
these thoughts if you have anything to share.




I don't think I find anything objectionable here, save the (perhaps?) implied 
conclusion that objects "working out" of mutual co-existence is best called 
"politics." Sure, we can call it that, words are words after all, and perhaps 
it's an appropriate metaphor. After all, as you rightly say, those of us who 
embrace the tool-being as a fact of all things also acknowledge the 
incompleteness of this grasping of other objects. 


However, this is a very different idea than the usual one, that politics is 
*our* politics, is a normative or descriptive account of human social behavior. 
It's this conceit that bothers OOO, that politics-for-humans could be taken as 
first philosophy.


If I can be permitted the indulgence of quoting myself at absurd length, here's 
how I attempt to address the matter in Alien Phenomenology (pp 78-79), on the 
topic of ethics rather than politics:





Can we even imagine a speculative ethics? Could an object characterize the 
internal struggles and codes of another, simply by tracing and reconstructing 
evidence for such a code by the interactions of its neighbors? It’s much harder 
than imagining a speculative alien phenomenology, and it’s easy to understand 
why: we can find evidence for our speculations on perception, like radiation 
tracing the black hole’s event horizon, even if we are only ever able to 
characterize the resulting experiences as metaphors bound to human correlates. 
The same goes for the Foveon sensor, the piston, the tweet, and the soybean, 
which can only ever grasp the outside as an analogous struggle. The answer to 
correlationism is not the rejection of any correlate but the acknowledgment of 
endless ones, all self-absorbed, obsessed by givenness rather than by 
turpitude. The violence or ardor of piston and fuel is the human 
metaphorization of a phenomenon, not the ethics of an object. It is not the 
relationship between piston and fuel that we frame by ethics but our 
relationship to the relationship between piston and fuel. Of course, this can 
be productive: ethical principles can serve as a speculative characterization 
of object relations. But they are only metaphorisms, not true ethics of objects.

Unless we wish to adopt a strictly Aristotelian account of causality and 
ethics, in which patterns of behavior for a certain type can be tested 
externally for compliance, access to the ethics of objects will always remain 
out of reach. It is not the problem of objectification that must worry us, the 
opinion both Martin Heidegger and Levinas hold (albeit in different ways). 
Despite the fact that Levinas claims ethics as first philosophy, what he gives 
us is not really ethics but a metaphysics of intersubjectivity that he gives 
the name “ethics.” And even then, Levinas’s other is always another person, not 
another thing, like a soybean or an engine cylinder (never mind the engine 
cylinder’s other!). Before it could be singled out amid the gaze of the other, 
the object-I would have to have some idea what it meant to be gazed on in the 
first place. Levinas approaches this position himself when he observes, “If one 
could possess, grasp, and know the other, it would not be other.” That is, so 
long as we don’t mind only eating one flavor of otherness.

Timothy Morton observes that matters of ethics defer to an “ethereal beyond.” 
We always outsource the essence of a problem, the oil spill forgotten into the 
ocean, the human waste abandoned to the U-bend. Ethics seems to be a logic that 
lives inside of objects, inaccessible from without; it’s the code that endorses 
expectation of plumbing or the rejoinder toward vegetarianism.

We can imagine scores of bizarro Levinases, little philosopher machines sent 
into the sensual interactions of objects like planetary rovers. Their mission: 
to characterize the internal, withdrawn subjectivities of various objects, by 
speculating on how object–object caricatures reflect possible codes of value 
and response. Object ethics, it would seem, can only ever be theorized 
once-removed, phenomenally, the parallel universes of private objects cradled 
silently in their cocoons, even while their surfaces seem to explode, devour, 
caress, or murder one another.

Morton offers an alternative: a hyperobject, one massively distributed in 
space-time. The moment we try to arrest a thing, we turn it into a world with 
edges and boundaries. To the hammer everything looks like a nail. To the human 
animal, the soybean and the gasoline look inert, safe, innocuous. But to the 
soil, to the piston? Ethical judgment itself proves a metaphorism, an attempt 
to reconcile the being of one unit in terms of another. We mistake it for the 
object’s withdrawn essence.

This confusion of the withdrawn and the sensual realms allows us to make 
assumptions about the bean curd and combustion engine just as we do with oceans 
and sewers, drawing them closer and farther from us based on how well they 
match our own understanding of the world. But when there is no “away,” no unit 
outside to which we can outsource virtue or wrongdoing, ethics itself is 
revealed to be a hyperobject: a massive, tangled chain of objects lampooning 
one another through weird relation, mistaking their own essences for that of 
the alien objects they encounter, exploding the very idea of ethics to infinity.



We can imagine scores of bizarro Levinases, little philosopher machines sent 
into the sensual interactions of objects like planetary rovers. Their mission: 
to characterize the internal, withdrawn subjectivities of various objects, by 
speculating on how object–object caricatures reflect possible codes of value 
and response. Object ethics, it would seem, can only ever be theorized 
once-removed, phenomenally, the parallel universes of private objects cradled 
silently in their cocoons, even while their surfaces seem to explode, devour, 
caress, or murder one another.




Ian


On Jun 14, 2012, at 9:02 PM, Joe Flintham wrote:


          
    
Hello
      Forgive me I'm a first time poster with a long history of lurking      
here and a some-time fascination with SR/OOO, and thankyou to      everyone 
here for an exciting discussion.  I wanted to write      something both as a 
way of thinking it through and asking the      contributors about the 
possibility of separating the political      from the ontological.
      
      Tim Morton recently in one of his podcast classes on OOO      summarised 
the development of SR/OOO as a response to      correlationism, noting that 
where the Meillassoux strand of SR      admires the correlationist approach and 
attempts to ground or      legitimise the correlate, OOO instead accepts the 
correlationist      limit but extends it to all relations, human and non-human. 
     Perhaps I could borrow from the Heidegger legacy that comes      through 
Harman to this analysis and say that OOO acknowledges the      'as-structure' 
that characterises being, and radicalises it to be      a feature of all 
relations, rather than just human Dasein. I      encounter you *as* something, 
as you encounter me; the cotton      encounters fire *as* something, just as 
fire encounters cotton.
      
      I therefore understand OOO not as a way to provide an ontology      that 
is independent of epistemology, but as a transformation of      the question of 
"how we know what is in the world" from being      'merely' a methodological 
problem, to a fundamental feature of      being both an "individual" or 
"object" (such as a human, a      toaster, or a quasar) as well as a component 
in an assemblage or      world. Everything is interconnected, albeit while 
negotiating a      fundamental inner rift in which we also encounter ourselves 
*as*      something.  Again following Harman and Morton's reading of y      
Gasset, relations are tropes rather than literal.
      
      In this sense the as-structure that runs through OOO thus seems to      
me to be very consonant with queer theories. No object is able to      engage 
with other objects except through its own functional      colouring, its own 
perceptual morphology, its own heritage and      identity, whatever material or 
discursive agencies have been made      to bear on that history. I understand 
Morton's take on the uncanny      ecology in OOO to mean all objects confront 
each other suddenly as      strangers, that we have no 'natural' categories to 
rely on, and no      normative criteria to which we can appeal we can't even be 
     certain of the extent to which we are either concrete individuals      in 
our own right or fleeting instances playing the role of      components within 
some larger being perhaps we are both both      representatives of a form or 
type, but also withdrawn and thus      always capable of being something else, 
someway else. In this      respect it very much means that markers of the 
normal are awash      and abandoned.  Perhaps some of the tropes that have 
characterised      the development of SR horror, the weird, anxiety resonate 
with      the experiences of abjection that make queer such a powerful      
resource.
      
      I think it is because this resonance seems so fruitful to me that      I 
am perplexed by some of the claims by proponents of OOO that the      political 
can be separated from claims about the ontological if      we are constrained 
in our own ways by our as-structures, then      right from the outset we 
encounter the world of human and      non-human objects as profoundly 
political, raising uncanny      questions of co-existence whether we are human 
subjects or      neutrinos or cypress-flames. So OOO, far from allowing us to   
   discuss "what exists" in politically neutral spaces, rather      radicalises 
the political questions of ecology and "being-with"      into the realm of the 
non-human, so that all objects are trying to      'work out' how to exist with 
each other whether to congregate or      flee, embrace or destroy, swap DNA and 
code sequences, or annex      and withdraw.  This doesn't prescribe a 
particular flavour of      politics, but it does seem to make the political at 
least      "equiprimordial" with the ontological.  I'd love to hear people's    
  responses to these thoughts if you have anything to share.
      
      Thanks,
      Joe 
      
      On 14/06/2012 23:35, Robert Jackson wrote:
    
    
      
        
Hey All, I've been          subscribing to this mailing list for a while now, 
so I'm glad          this debate is getting aired I just hope it doesn't 
inherit          the unfortunate slippage of tone that the blogosphere features 
         typically in these types of discussions.
        

        
        
So, I really don't understand          this criticism of OOO, which tars the 
ontological          'equivalence' brush with capitalism or neo-liberalism. 
This is          straightforward reductionism in my eyes. There are plenty of   
       political questions which need asking. But asking the question          
'what is' need not be a politically contentious one. This is          what SR 
is precisely getting away from, no matter what          anti-correlationist 
critique one advocates.
        

        
      
      
The key issue here is        sovereignty. If a current position can articulate 
contingent        surprise within an ontology that's a start (even the early 
zizek        took the correlated 'Real' has a sovereign theoretical given, to   
     which ideology conceals or masks). For my money OOO (which Levi        
Bryant has argued), has an interesting proposition in that one        could 
potentially argue that all real objects have an ambigious        sovereign 
inner core of surprise which can never be fully        articulated, by 
anything: whether benvolent dust mite or        proprietary software. This 
might be a starting point for        discussion.
      

      
      
Best
      
Rob
      

      
    
    
    
  
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