Negative feeling could be what “whets the appetite and leaves no aftertaste,” as one of Schlegel’s fragments says. Moving out of loss, having done with memory yet still unfinished, undone, brimming and spilling over into the next table, this kind of feeling is negative but not deficient. Its erotics and convivialities and smoke breaks decline their objects exactly (not strictly, flatly; a platonic yes and curious no, maybe) where possession interrupts tendency. To prefer flirting or tasting to taking is to let our senses get out of sync with the already knowing trajectory of want. Like with each other there’s another common sense on the horizon right now.
Numbing smoke floats under the streets at the end of the “empty” territories while across the country sacral cigarettes spirit away over invisible frontiers. If by the end of the night they evaporate, it can also happen over and over again, just from staying there or jumping fences and driving all over the place until it becomes a meeting, a praxis, a ritual, a semicircle, an open invitation, a conversion, a kinship, a stable threshold or wobbling envelope when transience comes out to play.
And, along with everybody else, when the open screen breaks there are those who want to take it all in: tourists and terroristic inspection; anthropology lending itself to demonology; all the society types with their oblivious reactionary enclosure, for the safe spacing of whiteness. Whether colonization ever ends, or whether it takes or has taken everything, is still up in the air. No, it’s ongoing; no, the takeover was always a failure, corroded by its own needy epistemology.
Less interesting to ask when you’re hanging around in a promiscuous sleep, unlike (I’d argue) the supposedly regressive-orgiastic dreams of the “mescal Dionysus” Bloch comes up with by way of analytic opposition. But how could anybody find their way backwards when they’re besides themselves? Why categorize and take Iamblichus at his word when he says ecstasies are the work of demons? Just because we’re not all there or about to go unconscious doesn’t mean that’s a lapse out of aliveness; couldn’t it just as well be zoning out in the Not Yet that’s the inapparent difference from the next morning?
10.27 – repeat 1 – tendency
A fruitless materialism can become irritating: at best a kinetic assembly when someone and it and they lose their reified vertexes. But the reflex to embrace the horizontal equation of people and things plugs a ratio where a practice could be.
Or there’s a sweeping prelude to not knowing whether anything will even happen. Anticipations can hold the present in place like nothing else can.
Sometimes it can prompt a sense of the long arc, what we owe recursion, and maybe a little diminution of the normalizing aspirations of the present, knowing how other people uncoil and enfold other people.
The dream of initiation into a queerer world is / was at the same time a dream of the ease of repairing the ease of contact.
Knowing this by taking an unknown quantity points out another algebra: each sensorium solves for x by dividing from the full energy of a room where who knows what is circulating. Who knows who is another question.
Maybe something will bend shamelessly out of its overburdened case, rethink its quick retractions from the invention of desire, lose its cold comfort with the world as it is.
accompaniment: Deleuze on the varying amplitude of the inclination to go to a nightclub, in The Fold: Leibniz and the Baroque, pp. 69-70:
[Leibniz] denounces two illusions: one consists in objectifying motives, as if they were weights placed on the pans of a scale, and as if deliberation were seeking to know in what direction, all conditions being equal, the scale would tip. The other illusion consists in dividing motives, since an infinity of subjective motives are needed so that a choice of objectified motives can be made, as if one might be able “to desire to desire.” But in truth the soul is what invents its own motives, and these are always subjective. We have to begin from all of the smallest inclinations that ply our soul in every direction, in the flash of an instant, under the stress of a thousand “little springs”: disquiet. That is the model of the pendulum or balance wheel, the Unruhe that replaces the scale. The action is voluntary when the soul – instead of undergoing the total effect into which these little appeals enter – gives itself a certain amplitude, such that it bends entirely in one direction or toward one side.
For example, I hesitate between staying home and working or going out to a nightclub: these are not two separable “objects,” but two orientations, each of which carries a sum of possible or even hallucinatory perceptions (not only of drinking, but the noise and smoke of the bar; not only of working, but the hum of the word processor and the surrounding silence). And if we return to motives in order to study them for a second time, they have not stayed the same. Like the weight on a scale, they have gone up or down. The scale has changed according to the amplitude of the pendulum.
10.28 – resources
New York: Last Call / Última Chamada: a view by / um olhar de Ruth Slinger –
Chicago: I Was There When House Music Took Over the World, episode 1