Wednesday, December 6, 2017

smoke fog 7:Noise 2

NOISE 2: MAGNETIC DIVINATION

"Invisible things flit through the teeming immensity. What is below human beings perceives through a fog that which is above them." Victor Hugo

Most immediately, we can think of that which is below human beings as objects and as all other living things, although Hugo was referring to the statistical phenomena of the crowd, the "impenetrable obscurity of mass existence" (Walter Benjamin). This "teeming immensity" is penetrated with modernist attempts to extricate the 'crowd' from its 'objecthood', to liberate it from its inexpressiveness, from the fog-like opacity which the material world apparently institutes through the aegis of the psychic aggregate ( mob mentality or the collective unconsious, depending on ones mind set). At the same time, however, these redemptive extrications (such as those of Marxism and perhaps Freudianism) required the presence of the modern statistical mass (the proletariat, the superstitious and pre-critical horde) in order to enact their own enabling liberatory gestures. Inasmuch as these gestures also enact a performative impulse which frames action (as methodologies are always assumed to do), the teeming immensities of the crowd can be easily seen to contain not only demonstrations and chants but also consumption and chance, especially when separated from any chiliastic teleology, all aligned with shock and catastrophe (Benjamin's angel of history), hallmarks of modernism: the transgression of the gestural frame at virtually the same moment that it is instituted. (Just as, for example, the photograph is framed, time is sliced and frozen; and yet the photograph is exceeded by the photographic apparatus itself, and the 'optical unconscious,' the unseen structures, which it reveals. We may take that to be the case with all exemplary re-presentational media structures. It is now possible to freeze not only the individual moment but statistical events and processes on a world-wide basis, perhaps revealing an 'event unconsciousness', the search for--or better yet, creation of -- 'secrets'.)

The moment that is being freed for the next millennium is the transgressive instance of the second stage of trauma, the phase of recognition and memory (of secrets), jolted by a demographic telematic apparatus of global proportions, memory freed from the exigencies of experience, released into an ether (of at least two sorts) of virtual experience, a re-ordering of causal orders, befitting a quantum age. This matrix of virtuality constitutes a boundary membrane, the main characteristic of which is porosity, perhaps not the final product of enlightenment but a tuning coming from a slowly dissolving orchestra pit before the collapse of stage into audience.

smoke fog 6: noise

NOISE

This clotted fog, mental, physical, material, so intimately connected to the terror of the cemetary and the opening of the earth and of all sorts of crypts (everywhere announcing the spreading miasma of etheric doubles, which the digital can only mimic, as a sort of power ploy used by mimesis, and which the historical dialectic can only sheath in various rhetorics and delaying tactics) always serves the escalation of boundary intrigue. Fog has become the epitome of that New Matter, formerly opaque, now seen as merely a noisy boundary between Energy and Information, more void than solid, yet throwing up a very convincing facade of imperturbability. This new foggy matter is the utmost in flexability and adaptability, best exemplified by the extropian use of the utility fog or "nano-fog". (This would be a fog composed of foglets, each of which would be the size of a human cell and would be composed of a supercomputer chip and 12 manipulable arms on the surface of the octohedral surface; a cubic centimeter would contain approximately 16 million of the foglets. Their purpose would be to create a complete environment, able to change almost instantaneously and capable of creating almost anything.)

At the extreme limit of the boundary between noise and information (that is, within the boundary itself), the differentials between matter and energy, signal and data, become so blurred as to be non-existent; or rather, the normal mechanisms for dealing with border disputes are not available since all hermeneutic strategies are based on an a priori determination of starting points -- but, inside boundaries, such determinations have yet to be established. Gravity, basis of all interpretation, has disappeared. Inside boundaries (within the fold, at the hinge, cardo, or heart of the matter) noise and signal merge, become chiasmatic even. On what basis does one set up beacons in the fog?

 All belongs to the shadowlands, ultimate border between the living and the dead, where the only operable function seems to be a species of magic, conjurings in the flux, strange attractors. "Immersed in background noise with its fractal agitation, the observer attracts the directional flux. It comes toward him, it is bound to. Should there be some wind, it will blow in his direction, any other point, for him, will be in the background. Immersed in disorder, all order is directed toward him. Toward him, at him, and against him." Michel Serres, 

The epistemological correlate for knowledge here becomes rumor, conspiracy, generated at every moment in conditions of extreme multiplicity and boundary disorder, new decision trees created at each instance and concommitant criteria for un/verifiability. At this point, one can only, as the saying has it, 'give up the ghost': "...I am a castaway of perception. I am swallowed up in space, drowned in its murmuring, the multiple always overflows me. I am a subject only when I am on the verge of fainting, dying." (Serres, ibid, p.65).

The trauma for boundary inhabitants: give up the ghost (cyborg) or become the ghost (sorcerer). They may turn out to be the same. The problem remains one of navigation, of determining longitude and lattitude, only partly dependent on the cocoon-like spinning of the gyroscope.

smoe fog5: opaque

A Beside: Learning to be Opaque

Since the dispelling of all sorts of fogs is the cornerstone of the modernist enterprise and its prime patrimony from the enlightment, it is no wonder that the rise of a certain 'dangerous' opacity, inextricably connected with communication (what isn't now?) and its' technology, is causing uneasiness (or elation, depending). This is so particularly among those who have fetishized transparency in its various modes, especially as its role, by no means transparent, in the great modern institutional panopticons.

The concept of public space serves to provoke anxiety now, not least of all among architects, the self-professed 'custodians' of that arena. Inasmuch as that space is the site of the conflict/collision/meeting of the particular and the general, it may always have caused a certain uneasiness for those who passed though it (even though now we only seem to pass through it, the modernist emphasis seems to be on living in that space.) we have only to think of Walter Benjamin's meditations on glass/transparency when he wrote in 1929, "Everything to come stands under the banner of transparency." ... And subsequent modernism's infatuation, both materially and ideologically, with the possibilities of transparency, and its utopian placement, as a form of psychic management of the public arena. We have only also to think of Philip Johnson's early glass house, any downtown AND suburban office park and before that, Bruno Taut and the Glass Pavilion in London at a turn of the century expo.
It has turned out however that transparency may not be the tool of leverage it was originally conceived to be. In thinking that glass would allow the public arena to be expanded inward to the interior, the architects of modernity were perhaps hoping for the instauration of Adolfe Behne's sentiments that "When all intimacy has ceased, man begins to breathe." Of course, it didn't turn out to be that simple. Transparency now seems to be a duplicitous quality, something that postmodernism in its many variants has become aware of, even to the point of instigating various forms of opacity, mirroring (doubling), and renewal of ideas of particularity and singularity at the expense of generality, albeit in the form of the frame surrounding the glass (which, as we know, can readily transform, even shatter, the contents of the frame if sufficient torque is applied. Early theorists were quite aware of this and attempted to minimize the framework as much as possible. In a true public space there would be no framework, an apparent impossibility).

Early on, it became apparent that, as Pierre Missac puts it (and a certain almost almost metaphysical taint seems to bleed through):, "Quite rapidly, the brillant light came to seem unbearable, ..., as though needing to feel the space around them enclosed by walls..." Subsequently tinted glass, special louvers, etc were devised. Much of what the 'philosphers of suspicion', Heidegger, Nietzsche, Freud and subsequent continental theory, have had to contribute to the modernism/postmodernism debate has been a re-examination of the frame--and quite often at the expense of transparency. Transparency now has a pharmakonological aspect, which takes two forms, neither apparently at odds with each other: its ability to shatter into deadly shards and its ability to affect transmissibility--terrorism and communication (the most advanced, most dense form of data transmission now uses glass cable; one way glass has long been used for surveillance purposes. And just as an aside we should remember that glass has always played a part in scrying, divination, and prophecy [and transparency is always on the way to becoming a screen or mirror or, ultimately, for glass, a slab of granite; something which it shares, no doubt, with the body) . As it turns out, prophecy -- and even enthusiam as public religious 'discourse'-- is never very far from any discourse on public space.] Both of these aspects now account for current anxieties regarding public spaces.

Utopian transparency has given way to dystopic C3: military terminology for Control, Command, Communication. The opening up of interiorities via transparency has now come to be seen as a pillaging of interiorities, both historical (and certain forms of postmodernism hold responsibility here) and psychical in the form of evacuation ( -- or 'hollowing out' as Adorno put it --) of subjectivities and subsequent re-filling in the form of commodity fetishism, criss-crossed and maintained by an information infra-structure. This data highway now promises to do for the interior landscape (and perhaps also exteriorities--the boundaries seem to becoming increasingly porous) what the physical highway has done to the physical environment: erosion of distance, a speeding up and densification of temporal ordering, alteration of sense ratios, the eradication of local communities, fragmentation, heterogeneity. In contrary motion are various forms of institutional consolidations, mergers, and alliances on a global scale; formation of non-contiguous communities ('inoperative' in Jean-Luc Nancy's phrase) as well as uprisings of more archaic communities based on race, ethnicity, religion, and recreation; a curious static-ness of human nature' wherein mythological structures seem to be constantly erupting, especially through technical media and cinematic special effects

While high theory seems to be increasingly shorn of gravity, floating free of earthly constraints, the popular imagination becomes increasingly mythologized, dwelling on draconian fantasies, neo-gothic architecture, subterranean, even uterine, formations taking precedence over Corbusian garden cities, the tracing of enatic lines over (and sometimes against) agnatic geneologies--the fearful Return of the Mothers, Goethe's Faust might exclaim.. The atrium has now come to encompass all of space, an invagination wherein even the space between buildings comes to seem merely the interior of another, vaster space, albeit a space enclosed in darkness and water (one has to only think of the city scapes in many popular recent movies: Bladerunner, the Batman series, the recent Judge Dredd; in fact, in almost every movie wherein the environment is equal to or takes precedence over character, certain mythological dicotomous restraints seem to apply.)

The public space, then, as it is activated through terrorism, communication, commodity fetishism, and prophecy seems to be taking on some of the tensions which Julia Kristeva ascribes to psychoanalysis in its attempt to counterbalance authority and transgression as in the following quote: "The ensuing equilibrium preserves the vitality of this discourse, a vitality that grows out of the immanence of death (the discourse of knowledge) and resurrection (the discourse of desire). As a result, psychoanalysis upsets the social contract, which is founded, according to Freud, on an act of murder. Analysts do not shy away from being dead fathers of knowledge, but the are also subjects of affect, desire, and joissance. Consequently, they are distanced from schools and institutions and concentrate instead on restructuring other people's  psyche.." (New Maladies of the Soul, 35).
Architecture is, however, an even more peculiar form of pyramidology, literally exhausting interiors, eviscerating natural structures, trees to lumber, volcanic interiors to cement, melting beaches to glassine surfaces, a peculiar form of resurrection indeed where the dead are the first priority. Little is left for the public space but the ghostly dance of commodities, objects, deaths brought back to life under the sign of Saturn: leaden, melancholic, the world itself become a thing, "the planet of detours, delays" making one "apathetic, indecisive, slow" (as Susan Sontag once described a certain modern temperament).
No wonder then that architecture becomes the chosen site for the terrorist's attempts to communicate, interrupting by re-inscribing a discourse of particularlized destructive desire onto bunkered generalized knowledge (the industrial state, as the Unabomber has it; the scientific method itself!), attempting an instauration of his own particularized brand of prophecy, 'signature effect' (of neccessity irrational, Benjamin's destructive character' smeared across the landscape) requiring as his glass ball, shards, fragments, as his only recourse, working perhaps 'backwards' from desire (the hope for SOME sort of resurrection--personal, social--) rather than 'forward' from knowledge, the inevitable chiasmatic crossing forming the new public space (always doubled now, uncanny, paranoiac, mobiated).
And as sorcerers and those who live in the blues have always known, crossroads are dangerous places.

smoke fog 4: trauma

TRAUMA

"...The impact of the traumatic event lies precisely in its belatedness, in its refusal to be simply located, in its insistent appearance outside the boundaries of any single place or time." Cathy Caruth, "Trauma and Experience: Introduction" in Trauma: Explorations in Memory, p.9
 
If the leading characteristic of fog and fog-like events is a 'dispersed systematicity' or a 'granulated amorphous effectivity' or an 'environmentally sedimented atmospheric zone' or a 'zone of atmospheric instability between two adjacent zones' or an 'area of confusion' or visual noise or a term for obscured vision (and like enfleurage there is gentle but nevertheless definite gradient in the range from dispersed/multiple to obscured vision, theory-wise), there is also a tinge of the trauma of the enfilade in the cultural reception of 'fog' (various para-logics perhaps, even the biological itself in its current, perhaps temporary, opaqueness) and in its use as an antithesis of logic, of, on the one hand, the confusion it brings about, and on the other hand, the threat of the appearance of some monstrous other, usually connected with the reappearance of the dead.

Trauma comes from the Greek word meaning wound, which in turn derives from the word for 'to pierce,' or perforate. On a physical level it is the idea of a violent shock or wound and the idea that there are thereby consequences affecting the whole organization.

Organisms are protected by thin shells, both physically and psychically; should these be breached by a traumatic event, the resources of the organism are marshalled to control the damage. In some cases, the traumatic event is so overwhelming that the organism cannot cope immediately but encapsulates it further, in a 'holding tank'. This may serve to temporarily protect the whole organism (psychically) by delaying and postponing reaction. This encrypted energy however can also work to re-orient the organism in ways not readily perceptible. The very resources of the organism itself work to obscure the origin of the trauma, the source of the problem. Just as in a sort of conceptual fog, there is condensation between the first scene (or wounding) and the second scene (or discovery), often obscuring vision either way. History itself seems to partake of this foggy view. ("For history to be a history of trauma means that it is referential precisely to the extent that it is not fully perceived as it occurs; or to put it somewhat differently, that a history can be grasped only in the very inaccessiblity of its occurrence." Cathy Caruth, ibid, p. 8)

If referenciality disappears, anxiety severs all speech, leaving a bodily dimension, a gestural system, system of objects -- rather, the uncanniness of a system of objects freed from a system of subjects: "Anxiety makes the subject no longer know who it is. It takes part in its own 'wild' deconstruction, if one can put it this way. This 'one' is no longer a subject but an indeterminate presence which feels invaded by a feeling of uncanniness." (M. Haar, Song of the Earth, p.45)

The appearance of the uncanny is the system past its limits, boundaries, membranes, where parts of itself have broken off, creating a doubling effect through sheer out-of-control iteration, attempting to fill all space and disconnect time (thereby making all of time available). Unlike the sublime, which is well within the limits (sub-limned) and attempts to see through the space to the end, all the while calculating the time of arrival (which is always placed at an infinite remove), the uncanny situates itself immanently through the very placement of objects in space: saturation then condensation; objecthood itself becomes the site of the unanny. The sublime is teleological, apocalyptic, millennialistic, binary, a product of unclosable distance, 20/20 vision, product of production itself, producing its own scopic orbitals (for the sublime, what goes around, comes around: a lame dialectic, hobbling in circles, waiting for a crutch [prosthesis], with no antidote/thesis in sight). The uncanny, product of and conducive to, terror and anxiety, is assembled through delay and trauma, relayed through prostheses, doubling., emergence of monstrous Other.

possible smoe fog 3: the dead

THE DEAD

"It is now becoming clear that EVERYTHING we once thought dead and buried, everything we thought left behind for ever by the ineluctable march of universal progress, is not dead at all, but on the contrary likely to return--not as some archaic or nostalgic vestige (all our indefatigable museumification notwithstanding), but with a vehemence and a virulence that are modern in every sense--and to reach the very heart of our ultra-sophisticated but ultra-vulnerable systems, which it will easily convulse from within without mounting a frontal attack. Such is the destiny of radical otherness--a destiny that no homily of reconciliation and no apologia for difference is going to alter." Jean Baudrillard, "The Melodrama of Difference", from The Transparency of Evil

But this is the rationalization of systemization, the route from the local to global (or the finding of the general within the particular, the moment of the theoretical--a balancing point in the hermeneutic circle by which we entered this fog) via the cut of particularization or the 'digital'. This perhaps only bears a passing resemblance between the living/dead switch, but it does bear the mark of the inextricable/ineradicable economy of heat-transfer and entropy: still the land of the dead (and the unliving--which is not precisely the same as the dead. Life is just a subset of the dead, Nietzsche) One can think of the optimum condition for circuitry (as cold as possible for maximum electron flow) and then consider the fog flowing out of the mouth of the priests in The Exorcist, or any number of other films where the pneuma (geist) of the body becomes momentarily visible as a kind of ectoplasmic stand-in for the human essence, made visible as the indicator, the stroke, as the limit point between two realms. The dead have no memory, only trails; the un-living do have at least temporally based data storage of the sort: center/periphery, a functional equivalent of subject/object, particular/general but here the trauma of consciousness cannot make the cut into memory, for any cut only fractalizes, furthering the processing horizontally, spatially but not temporally:

 "Machines work more quickly because they are unlinked to any otherness. Networks connect them up to one another like an immense umbilical cord joining one intelligence and its twin. Homeostasis between one and the same: all otherness has been confiscated by the machine."
"These delicate arms, cilia quivering in turbulence, are born of the low white fog, these here, an infinite number, fade away, they break up, though they return aperiodically, others rise higher only, once again, to disappear, those there gel into an edifice, steeples." Michel Serres

smoke fog 2:smoke

SMOKE

"When the world is reduced to a network of interchangeable connections, there are truly no more subjects who face objects but only gigantic circulations of energy, products, information, and consumption. Everymore removed, ever less inserted in a situation or a determinate site, technological man more and more finds himself decontextualized, simultaneously integrated and dispersed. The sense of the near and the distant becomes blurred. The oblivion of the Earth is the oblivion of the originally local and regional character of thinking and action." Michel Haar, The Song of the Earth: Heidegger and the Grounds of the History of Being, p. 5 "...there is no space in general, and everything brings its space with it, a place takes place by itself. Thoughts are not the fruits of the earth. They are not registered by areas, except out of human commodity. Thoughts are clouds. The periphery of thoughts is as immeasurable as the fractal lines of Benoit Mandlebrot. Thoughts are pushed and pulled at variable speeds. They are deep, although core and skin are of the same grain. Thoughts never stop changing their location one with the other. When you feel like you have penetrated far into their intimacy in analyzing either their so-called structure or genealogy or even post-structure, it is actually too late or too soon. One cloud casts its shadow on another, the shape of the clouds varies with the angle from which they are approached." Jean-Francois Lyotard, Peregrinations: Law, Form, Event. p. 5. 

Even shadows take on a certain solidity in the fog, a penumbral presence that bends around corners, plastered to the edges, like a rumour that haunts a certain strictness of being (like Being shadowing being--or vice versa), of language, of discourse, the body politic. The chiaroscuro partitioning of shadow/light forming shifting blocks of truth/falsity--there SHOULD be rigid demarcations (after all, it's in black and white, on/off), perceptual truth tables. But such 'truth-telling' only works at high noon (although artificial light can create the same effect--or affect in that case), after fog/smoke has been burned off and, though there are shadows galore, they are sharp edged, measurable. But even then, even here with the sun overhead, eclipses can happen, something large burns nearby, millions of bits of particulate matter scale the air, rising in the warm, casting a pall, loosening the connections between thing and shadow cast.

Smoke: the inevitable aftermath of catastrophe, the caterpillar's writing of the disaster, hoving over the cooled remains, cinders, husks left, the last testimony of the dead: mute, toxic witnessing of departed flame. The smoke is always, already (everywhere) rising above the sacrificial altars of the twentieth century, like the augurs and appeasements to the gods which the greeks were constantly seeking: all that is solid turns to smoke (fitting Marxian inscription on the tomb of itself as well as the greco-hebraic gravesite which was/is/shall always be burning: burning at both temporal ends, smoke from the shrines at Eleusis turning up above Edison Electric in New Jersey).

The modern temptation to continually poke through the smoky rubble, finding victims, looking for evidence, is only part of our patristic heritage, our burden of hermeneutics: an attempt to find the match which set the world burning (and in that burning world is where techn resides and best finds its resources: Terminators striding the smoky debris, hunting out the last Living Humans, smoking out the last possibility of metaphor). Like the sublime, smoke hides, mimics the uncanny, perhaps even releases the uncanny under the traumatic pressure of parsing (smoke/cinders) which fast oxidation causes (burden of life in oxygen! : The Original Trauma). Technology: the fastest oxidation possible, so fast that it always seeks to frame uncanny fog within its representational structures, always attempting to make it a theatrical effect, nostalgic and propaedeutic, History and Future the other parsing that technology knows, at the same time. It's almost as if smoke were dreaming of fog, as if it could conjure up its uncanny Other under the pressure of burning (pressed through a sieve, a net, chora,) as if its sacrificial altars could re-constitute the gods and goddesses, (artificial) life embossed into the smoke.

But, for now, like the hookah-smoking catepillar in Alice In Wonderland, the smoke turns inevitably into letters before dissipating, a metaphor which may be taken to allude to language in general and, in our case, language under pressure of extrusion from global telematic services: within a final puff of smoke the caterpillar is transformed. (We would perhaps not be remiss in pointing again to Walter Benjamin's wizened theological dwarf operating in conjunction -- but out of sight -- with the automaton chess player with the aim of installing -- or revealing -- the "weak messianic force" in techn.) Has the prosthetic hookah aided the transformation? Or has it merely thrown up a smokescreen to hide the transformative process? Whence comes the transformation? The smoke, the internal exigencies of the caterpillar ('natural law'), the letters (as a sort of kabbalistic incantation), the hookah (as a prosthetic enabler), or the presence of Alice (the x and y of which a certain ontological feminism might beckon, a transformative possibility of a body that an Alex can only observe)?

Friday, December 1, 2017

possible smoke fog ahead 1

...woke this morning to swirls of fog and thoughts of prolepsis  in re: the never ending Ourobouros-like tail biting. I leave it to the reader to disentangle the parts, if such prophetic possibility present itself. To that end (always pregnant with the beginning), I came across this quote from Leibniz in Roberto Calasso's book Tiepolo Pink. In passing one might note also the cloudy, clotted scenes from Tiepolo's work, along with the the scenes of fairy lore of Victorian painter Richard Dadd and the more 'modern' work of contemporary artist Maurice Clifford; the enigmatic detail of these artists no doubt leads to an awareness of an occulted sensibility overall :
The outcome of these little perceptions is therefore more efficacious than one would think. They form that je ne sais quoi , those inclinations, those images of the qualities of the senses, clear as a whole, but confused in their parts; those impressions that surrounding bodies make on us, and that embody infinity; the bond that every living being has with the rest of the universe. One may even say that as a consequence of these little perceptions the present is pregnant with the future and laden with the past, which plots all (sýmpnoia pánta, as Hippocrates put it), and that in the smallest of substances penetrating eyes like those of God might read all the concatenation of the things of the universe.
GW Leibniz 
 The following is from a perforations issue, subsequently printed in the perforations collection as a hypertext
...

INSECTICIDE

(When I was a boy, passing hazy summer days in a small southern town, the highlight of the week was the twilight trip of the truck fogger which slowly huffed through the neighborhood spraying out a thick fog of insecticide to stem the equally thick fog of mosquitoes, nano-like and insistent in their omnipresence. Jumping on our bikes, my friends and I would follow the truck, holding our breath and swooping in and out of the fog, intent, no doubt, on acting out our own version of the emergence of monsters from the mist, the combination of twilight and fog too irresistable to ignore. If the fog which we saw in the saturday matinees at the monster triple features would too seldom--if ever--come to us, why, we would go to it.)

The power of 'fog' is thus not only an industrial (ala 19th century production modes) effect (and isn't a bullet preeminently an industrial artifact?) but rather its power resides in its disseminative effect, its ability to flow into the farthest interstitial reaches. (Like an insecticide fogger, set to go off and into every nook and cranny of a room, killing every roach no matter where it's hiding. Will some future superroach be able to adapt and live off those fogs, come, even, to await with eagerness its arrival?) Modernity and modernism themselves have many of the same traumatic qualities of this search-and-destroy feature of the anti-insect fogger and its inevitable covering-over of every available surface. Inasmuch as modernism has historically been about the "shock of the new" (which has, from a post-modernist point of view, been about the conversion of temporal qualities to spatial, or the substitution of surface effects for depth configurations), the 'post-modern' can be seen as the dissemination of modernism through the aegis of capital flow, under the cultural dominance of global multi-national corporations and an imbricated telematic infra-structure of computers, video, and telephone service. A form of indeterminate transfer of systematicity for which the terms enfilade and enfleurage are evocative but inadequate unless they can somehow be combined.

The hallmarks of this tail end of modernism have now passed from shock (is anyone shocked by anything anymore?) to uneasiness, dread, expectation, and anxiety. The sharp slap of shocks, administered repeatedly to a system (by a system), rapidly become, in the first moments of trauma, hidden; the organism learns to cope, learns to encrypt that originary scene, managing to put up with the increasing miasma that seeps out of the crevices, cracks and then starts to define those cracks. Effects begin to be noticed outside the crypt as energies begin to be invested in objects. As speech is quelled under the pressure, the objects begin to speak, but heard indistinctly, seen through a glass darkly (even as the object world becomes ever more insistently present, the 60-cycle humming of nano-mosquitoes).
The second scene of trauma, the scene which establishes consciousness (a temporal cut), the scene of discovery, still has not taken place. And like enfilades's establishing cut through sortie, abolishing one scene and creating another simultaneously, and enfleurage's hind brain reliance, scenes of modernist discovery kill at they same time that they discover (or remember) the 'evidence'. What would be the establishing 'cut' for the machinic phylum, spirited (machined?) away from the trembling, shaking, swaying Kore-tic organic? What must be killed and what is remembered? Oleaginous escape from inorganic depths forming from toxic interior to the outside covering the exterior..., pushing toward some ultimate alien aufhebung. "What then is the unhuman? It is, first of all, a limit without reserve, something that one is always arriving at, but which is never circumscribed within the ambit of human thought/" Eugene Thacker