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 >> NetBehaviour@netbehaviour.org >> http://www.netbehaviour.org/mailman/listinfo/netbehaviour > > _______________________________________________ > NetBehaviour mailing list > NetBehaviour@netbehaviour.org > 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 NetBehaviour@netbehaviour.org http://www.netbehaviour.org/mailman/listinfo/netbehaviour
