Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
More Liberal Militarization of UCPD
This is how UC and president Obama's homeland security department protect our freedom of protest: http://reclaimuc.blogspot.com/2012/06/ucpds-getting-tank-from-homeland.html.
To re-quote Foucault on liberal govermentality: "everywhere you see this simulation of the fear of danger which is, as it were, the condition, the internal psychological and cultural correlative of liberalism. There is no liberalism without a culture of danger." Simply: liberal, free-market, capitalist governments (legislative, executive, juridical, economic, etc.) demand a culture of fear -- fear over the interruption of the flow of capital, be it financial capital or bodily capital. Thus: fear occupy, fear protests where the flow of money-bodies is interupted. Hence the Davis Dozen prosecutions, and hence the militarization of police. At all costs, Katehi, Yudof, Obama, arm yourselves against our insurrection against capital and its circulation. Villainize and criminalize and brutalize lawful protest. After all, that's how you constitute liberal power. Agamben is right: we live in a state of exception.
To re-quote Foucault on liberal govermentality: "everywhere you see this simulation of the fear of danger which is, as it were, the condition, the internal psychological and cultural correlative of liberalism. There is no liberalism without a culture of danger." Simply: liberal, free-market, capitalist governments (legislative, executive, juridical, economic, etc.) demand a culture of fear -- fear over the interruption of the flow of capital, be it financial capital or bodily capital. Thus: fear occupy, fear protests where the flow of money-bodies is interupted. Hence the Davis Dozen prosecutions, and hence the militarization of police. At all costs, Katehi, Yudof, Obama, arm yourselves against our insurrection against capital and its circulation. Villainize and criminalize and brutalize lawful protest. After all, that's how you constitute liberal power. Agamben is right: we live in a state of exception.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Walter Pater's Speculative Aesthetics and Microbiopolitics
In
defining the aesthetic experience as hazarding oneself within a desubjectifying
aesthetic-object relation, Walter Pater’s speculative aesthetic criticism short
circuits the Ruskinian liberal subject (predicated on art’s near-sublime
ability to convey the greatest number of great ideas) and its condition of
possibility (the mastered/mastering human-world correlate) by overwhelming it
with a field of bipolar tensions. Pater, having worked Kantian aesthetics
backwards from the “subject” to the aesthetic object, confronts the material
conditions of possibility for pure aesthetic experience. While the lineage of
Victorian Kantians (Coleridge, Carlyle, Ruskin, Arnold) had pursued the
transcendental dimension of aesthetic experience as a way to construct an
autonomous, self-willed, distanced, and disinterested liberal subject, Pater
sought to strip the aesthetic experience of all external relations or ends.
Scandalous to 1870’s England and blasé to post-New Criticism literary scholars,
Pater’s peculiar rootstock of “art for art’s sake” deserves reappraisal on
ontological and ethical grounds. Rather than reading Pater as a historical
anomaly, I propose an approach treating his aesthetic criticism as a
speculative philosophy capable of providing a model for how contemporary microbiopolitical
apparatuses operate upon living beings and how an efficacious subjecthood can
be constructed vis-à-vis those very apparatuses.
Pater’s sketch of the aesthetic experience,
which maps the force field stretched between the aesthetic object and the
critic’s imaginative reason, not only inverts then-conventional Kantian
criticism, but also pushes aesthetics to its ontological and epistemological
horizon: the pure aesthetic object. If the aesthetic object and aesthetic
critic enter into intimacy through the aesthetic encounter, and if this
intimacy short circuits the production of a liberal subject (a harnessing of the
material autonomy of art for immaterial, human ends – meaning, ideation,
morality), then the danger lies in the aesthetic object’s indifference to the
critic’s comportment. The horizon between matter (or content) and form becomes
for Pater the primary locus of the aesthetic encounter, the site where the
aesthetic object withdraws from access and the site to which the critic is
irresistibly drawn. Such a fissure, I argue, becomes a site of mastery – the
object over the viewer or the viewer over the object – motivating Pater’s
insistence that “it is the constant effort of art to obliterate it” (90).
Matter and form must, for Pater, operate through a curious immanence within
which “this form, this mode of handling, should become an end in itself, should
penetrate every part of the matter.” Resolutely non-Platonic (or non-Kantian?),
Paterian form remains grounded in materiality as the trace of the artistic
gesture or signature. Form’s penetration of matter is that which subverts
Ruskinian subject-formation by suspending the force of external relations
manipulating the aesthetic object for other ends.
Nevertheless,
the zone of indistinction rendered by form’s penetration of matter also serves
as generative force for meaning – and the liberal subject’s formation via art.
The form-and-matter zone of indistinction is, therefore, a particularly fraught
region for Pater wherein “meaning reaches us through ways not distinctly
traceable by the understanding” (91). Meaning serves as a sieve through which
living being is captured and passed along into other fields of force – an
ideological terrain of Victorian liberalism, for instance. Meaning, arising out
of form-and-matter, is an apparatus – a “thing” capturing, orienting, modeling,
controlling, intercepting, securing the behaviors, gestures, opinions,
discourses of living beings for ends outside themselves. And yet if meaning, as
an apparatus capturing and jettisoning some capacity of the viewer into another
field (a process Agamben calls sacredization), arises out of form and matter’s
indistinction, then form-and-matter also holds the potential to subvert that
process. An over-penetration of form into matter could render inoperative
meaning’s capturing force. For Pater, art inherently tends to this suspension:
“Art, then, is thus always striving to be independent of the mere intelligence,
to become a matter of pure perception, to get rid of its responsibilities to
its subject” (92). As an aesthetic object withdraws into its constitutive zone
of form-and-matter, it simultaneously severs itself from ends outside itself,
while still retaining its force of
capture. As The Picture of Dorian
Grey warns, the pure aesthetic object never ceases to exert capturing,
modeling, control, or orienting force over its viewer. Rather, in the aesthetic
object Pater discerned the bare condition of an apparatus’s possibility, its
unceasing force of capture independent of ends – the aesthetic object as black
hole.
The horizon marking the aesthetic
object’s force is useful in thinking through the operations of what Nigel
Thrift defines as microbiopolitics: practices and techniques of power operating
“in the half-second delay between action and cognition” (71). This
microbiopolitical domain teems with apparatuses capturing living beings at an
ontological level indifferent to thought. If biopolitics could be thought
through a correlationist lens (Foucauldian power-knowledge), microbiopolitics
demands a speculative philosophy because it operates entirely independent of
thought. Certainly the “operators” of such apparatuses can and should be
thought; nevertheless the very operations of microbiopolitics demands approach
other than the Foucauldian. Pater’s aesthetic object offers such an approach. By
mapping the domain generating an object’s capacity to capture (its condition of
possibility as an apparatus), Pater’s criticism concerns itself with the
ontological conditions of capture indifferent to thought: the half-second delay
between action and cognition.
This isn’t to argue that
Pater’s aesthetic objects are microbiopolitical apparatuses (which would be to
stretch the definition too far, as if all art were microbiopolitical because it
works on the senses), although the incense-laden procession opening his Marius the Epicurean could gesture
towards contemporary pheromone apparatuses. Rather, Pater’s aesthetic
criticism, if read as speculative philosophy, not only offers a way to think
the ontological conditions of microbiopolitics, but also provides a
form-of-life constituted by the reparative or profaning appropriation of apparatuses:
Hellenic subjectivity. Explicitly a renunciation of Ruskin’s valorization of
the Gothic, Hellenic subjectivity profanes the liberal subject’s constitutive
characteristics and puts them to new use. Like the liberal subject, the
Hellenic subject is self-willed (“They are ideal artists of themselves” [143]),
autonomous (“that Hellenic ideal, in which man is at unity with himself”
[145]), and disinterested (“the absence of any sense of want” [144]). However, such
a subject arises out of an entirely different relation to the world. Whereas
the liberal subject attains its self-will, autonomy, and disinterestedness from
a detachment or transcendence from the world (from sensation into mind, for
instance), the Hellenic subject emerges from a radical immersion into the world:
the “Hellenic ideal, in which man is at unity with himself, his physical
nature, with the outward world.” As Johann Winckelmann’s life (Pater’s
prototype Hellenic subject) indicates, the Hellenic subject is constituted
through an intimacy with the aesthetic object, a being “in touch with it; it
penetrates him, and becomes a part of his temperament” (127). It is in
connection with the aesthetic object, understood as a pure apparatus, that we
should read Pater’s (in)famous definition of success in life. “To burn always
with this hard, gem-like flame, to maintain this ecstasy” of “that strange,
perpetual, weaving and unweaving of ourselves” is to profane the apparatuses of
“the modern world, with its conflicting claims, its entangled interests,
distracted by so many sorrows, with many preoccupations” (148), severing their
external ends (claims, interests, sorrows, preoccupations) and repurposing
their force of capture for new ends. Pater’s “speculative culture” (154) offers
a model for Thrift’s microbiopolitical counter-conduct – an art or cultivation
of the self attuned to “the kind of biological-cum-cultural gymnastics that
take place in this realm which is increasingly susceptible to new and sometimes
threatening knowledges and technologies” (71).
Thursday, June 14, 2012
How Art Kills: Pater's Speculative Aesthetics
The
recent speculative turn in continental philosophy offers not merely a return to
philosophical realism, but also a reparative resurrection of dormant thought designed
to push philosophy outside a correlationist shadow cast since, arguably, Kant.
While most efforts have focused on revising of the contours of the Western
philosophical canon, attention could also be paid to marginalized figures in England’s
literary history, figures that, like Walter Pater, offer a speculative
genealogy confronting issues of realism from within certain strands of
Kantianism. While no means speculatively realist avant la lettre, Pater’s aesthetic criticism warrants reappraisal
within the emergent discourse of the speculative turn primarily because of his
curious reformulation and development of a realist tendency present but
unthought within Kant’s Critique of
Judgment.
Pater’s The Renaissance: Studies in Art and Poetry begins with a polemical
warning not to define “beauty in the abstract, to express it in the most
general terms, to find some universal formula for it” – a warning against, in other
words, an English tradition of Kantian aesthetics (1). Without naming names,
Pater gently chides the practitioners of this dominant aesthetic paradigm by
quoting without citation Matthew Arnold’s famous 1861 aesthetic dictum, “To see
the object as in itself it really is” (64) – a line consistent with that other
grandee of Victorian aesthetics, John Ruskin, whose criticism centers on sight,
“the most important thing to be taught in the whole range of teaching”
(“Inaugural Address” 94-95). But what type of sight, Pater cautions, does
Arnoldian or Ruskinian criticism demand, and, more to the point, for what end?
For Ruskin the greatest art is “that which conveys to the mind of the spectator
the greatest number of the greatest ideas” (“Definition of Greatness in Art” 12);
great art, which presumably moves the viewer through such greatness, is
eminently transcendental, transporting the viewer outside himself (there are so
few “herselves” in Ruskin’s mind) and into communication with universal truths
whose efficacy is proportional to their capacity to resonate with “a higher
faculty of the mind.” Beautiful greatness, in this sense, is akin to the
Kantian sublime, the experience of reason’s infinite scope seemingly independent
of natural or aesthetic objects: “Sublimity, therefore, does not reside in any
of the things in nature, but only in our own mind, in so far as we may become
conscious of our superiority over nature within, and thus over nature without
us” (Judgment 94). Ruskin and Arnold
are heirs to the idealist-tendency of Kant’s analytic of the sublime via a
genealogy that runs through Coleridge and Carlyle.
Pater, however, resists the analytic
program’s privileging of art’s capacity to elevate reason at the expense of its
subtending haecceity: “To define beauty, not in the most abstract but in the
most concrete terms possible, to find, not its universal formula, but the
formula which expresses most adequately this or that special manifestations of
it, is the aim of the true student of aesthetics” (1). Whereas the dominant
line of Kantian aesthetic criticism takes Kant at his word – sever sublime art from
its materiality – in an effort to examine the synthetic a priori conditions making
aesthetic experience possible, Pater turns his attention in the opposite
direction and towards the historical a posteriori conditions of aesthetic
pleasure’s possibility as arising from contact with the aesthetic object
in-itself. With his four central aesthetic inquiries (What is aesthetic object
to me? What is its effect on me? How does object give me pleasure? How does it
modify my nature? [1]), Pater effectively snubs his nose at English Kantianism
while ingeniously resurrecting a latency in Kant’s critique of judgment.
Without denying the operations of the sublime, Pater asks the painfully obvious
question raised by Kant’s correlation of the aesthetic object and the sublime:
if the sublime “must be thought only in the mind of the judging subject” (Critique 86) and if that subject’s
disposition towards the sublime is triggered by yet irreducible to aesthetic or
natural objects, what are the conditions of possibility for the sublime’s
arising out of a judging subject’s relation to a given type of object? To
address this impasse in Kant’s analytic of the sublime Pater turns away from
the a priori conditions so fascinating for English aesthetic criticism, and
instead focuses on the “relative” experience of aesthetics (1).
Contra Ruskin, Pater defines beauty
as “relative,” a term embracing both the critic’s subjective pleasure and the
critic’s relation to the aesthetic object; the stress ultimately falls on the
later dimension: “the definition of [beauty] becomes unmeaning and useless in
proportion to its abstraction” (1). And while critic and aesthetic object arise
in their modalities (Pater-as-critic, canvas-as-aesthetic-object), Pater’s
repeated prepositional phrases (to me, for me, etc.) indicate an irreducibility
that subtends both critic and aesthetic object and gives rise to the particular
pleasure of the aesthetic encounter. Provocatively, Pater defines the
pleasure-producing operations of aesthetics as “the stir” (3).
In the supplemental 1877 chapter
“The School of Giorgione” Pater maps the “stir” through a sly translation of The Renaissance’s by then infamous and
retracted conclusion. Here we no longer have the simplicity of the aesthetic
object–critic relation, but rather a bipolar force field traversed by waypoints – aesthetic object’s materiality <>
sensation <> sensual element <> imaginative reason – that
momentarily check and relay the unidirectional “delight of the sense,” which is
the “vehicle of whatever poetry or science may lie beyond them in the intention
of the composer” (88). Pater warns against focusing on art’s ideational content
and instead points his readers towards the condition of that content’s
possibility: “the sensuous material of each art . . . is the beginning of all
true aesthetic criticism” (87). By attending to this special materiality, the
critic enters into an undue intimacy not directly with the aesthetic object,
but rather vicariously with an artifact’s “special mode of handling its
material” (89). Because the aesthetic object and the critic never enter direct
contact, but remain instead suspended within a force field, Pater’s privileged
sensuous element, which marks the historical a priori (to take a phrase from
Foucault) of the aesthetic encounter, is located within the critic as the sensuous
object within which imaginative reason vicariously connects to the aesthetic
object. The sensuous element, spectrally arising from art’s special material,
separates the critic’s imaginative reason and sensation from within in order to
plunge him/her into the uncanny aesthetic encounter – a desubjectification
subverting the Ruskinian and Arnoldian liberal subject’s the desire for
transcendence. What remained disturbingly opaque in The Renaissance’s conclusion – “To burn always with this hard,
gem-like flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life” (154) – Pater here
gives operational clarity. To burn with such a gem-like flame is to hazard
oneself within a relation that dissolves the fantasy of a transcendental
subject and leaves behind the margin of an individual’s irreducible gem-like
haecceity. For Pater art kills by obliterating the phantom liberal subject. The
question is, then, what remains?
Keats and Flat Ontology
In “To J.H. Reynolds,” as in other
poems, Keats plays Bogost’s ontographer avant
la lettre. Ontography, Bogost claims, follows a two-step process: first, it
suspends and isolates a field of units (or objects) within a catalogue; second,
it accounts for the coupling and withdrawing of these autonomous units from
each other (Alien Phenomenology 50). Ontography
serves as the tool for sketching a given milieu’s
mereology according to the premise of flat ontology, which “makes no
distinction between the types of things that exist” and instead “treats all
equally” (17). As a subset of Object-oriented Ontology, the flat ontology of
Bogost and Levi Bryant takes an object’s facticity and its intentional
qualities as equally real, much as Keats treats the bust of Voltaire, his
perception of that bust, and Voltaire himself as equally and simultaneously
real.
What matters to understanding Keats
as a flat ontologist is not simply that he treats all objects equally, but also
the manner and end of such treatment. “To J.H. Reynolds” opens with a typical
Keatsian gesture: supine, the poet confronts “shapes, and shadows, and
remembrances” that arise as “[t]hings all disjointed” (3;5). Inoperativity renders the poet open to a
flood of disjointed and thought-teasing objects – busts, etchings, prints,
reproduction paintings. For both poet and poem, objects seem under the spell of
invisible hyphens, as if each object were both itself and not itself
simultaneously: a witch grins with a cherub’s mouth, the Grecian Socrates
appears in a nineteenth-century cravat, Hazlitt, hater of cats, plays with
Maria Edgeworth’s cat. Similarly, such disjointedness serves to suspend each
object from every other object in order to catalogue them within the poem.
Irreducible to themselves and each other, the poem’s numerous units clank
against one another, shift shapes, enter promiscuous couplings only to recede,
in the end, beyond the poet and each other: “now ‘tis hidden all” (60).
Suspended
from their external relations, the poem’s units are also irreducible to their
parts. The poem’s central unit – the reproduction Enchanted Castle – is broken apart into constitutive units as if
composed of so many nesting objects. Keats dissects the painting into rocks,
trees, lake, and its central unit, the castle, whose own units are carefully
catalogued: wings, juts, doors, windows, flashes of light, galley.
However, Keats does not offer merely
a list of kitsch objects; rather, he catalogues objects such that their
relations to and experiences of other objects become graspable for the poet.
Keats therein constructs something like what Bogost defines as an ontograph,
which “involves cataloguing things, but also drawing attention to the couplings
of and chasms between them” (50). For flat ontology – a democracy of
ontologically equal units that are simultaneously isolated, enclosing a system,
and enclosed within a system (25) – ontography serves as a “general inscription
strategy” that “uncovers the repleteness of units and their interobjectivity”
(38). Keats maps the interobjectivity of units through the profusion of
metaphors, or, to follow Roman Jakobson, the relentless substitution of objects
with other objects.
Take
for example the sliding of reproduction kitsch not only into its original
iteration (a Keatsian gesture most recognizable in “Ode on a Grecian Urn”’s
conflation of the Portland vase and a Wedgwood imitation), but also from
artwork into lived reality. For the supine poetic gaze, referents come to life
through nearly inescapable “visitings” (13), a phenomenon whose generality
(“Few are there who escape these visitings”) stresses not only the
anthropocentricism of such ekphrastic object relations but also the primacy of
such relations. Visiting is, therefore, something like what Bogost calls a unit
operation – “a process, a logic, an algorithm is you want, by which a unit
attempts to make sense of another” (28) – proper to the human-world correlate,
albeit one that remains primarily hidden. The uncanniness of Keats’ ontography
stems from poet’s openness to such visitations, a process that Keats’ theorizes
as the “negative capability” “of being in uncertainties, Mysteries, doubts,
without any irritable reaching after fact & reason” (Letter to George and
John Keats, 21-27 December 1817). As the proper modality for the human-world
correlate, negative capability is human ontography avant la lettre. It names, more simply, how the poet “poems”
objects, a program resembling flat ontology’s metaphorism: how units “bask
metaphorically in each other’s ‘notes’ by means of metaphor” (67).
For Keats, the units composing the
uncanny flat ontology opened by negative capability – the “material sublime”
(69) – substitute each other in much the same manner that the poet relates to
his milieu: if the substitution chain
kitsch-art-referent pertains to the poet as its proper unit operation or
metaphorism, the objects within a milieu
like The Enchanted Castle likewise
metaphorize each other as their proper unit operations. The castle castles the
rock it sits upon, the rock rocks the lake it borders, the lake lakes the trees
its surrounds (26-28) – all operations functioning as if “[f]rom some old
magic-like Urganda’s sword” (29) much as for the poet it is the metaphoric “Phoebus” who, in mediating
the poet’s human-world correlate, animates “All which elsewhere [is] but half
animate” (37). If negative capability is the unit operation proper to the poet,
metaphorism names the general operation of object-relations that unit operation
opens onto. What holds for Bogost also holds for Keats: “things render one
another in infinite chains of weaker and weaker correlation, each altering and
distorting the last such that its sense is rendered nonsense. It’s not turtles
all the way down, but metaphors” (84).
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Walter Pater's Theory of the Dispositif: Countering Liberal Pastorship with the Aesthetic Object
In this paper, recently given at the "Phases of Thought" scholar symposium at UCD, I attempted to provide a
sketch of an emerging larger (dissertation) project and then a possible segment of that
project.
Overall, I am concerned with how in late-Victorian
England the conduct of the groups or populations was conducted through localized
configurations of liberal pastorship or governmentality – that is, how the
conduct of purportedly “free” subjects was (potentially) conducted in certain locations.
The lack of attention to the space of pastorship has limited other approaches
to nineteenth-century British liberalism, pastorship, conduct, and
counter-conduct such as those of Lauren Goodlad, Amanda Anderson, and Elaine
Hadley. I argue that “milieu” provides one way of historicizing
specific, localized struggles over liberal pastorship. The milieu, Foucault
tells us in Security, Territory, Population,
consists of a configuration of artificial elements and natural givens – a
potential model for reading the composition and operation of pastorship and
counter-pastorship, conduct and counter-conduct in spaces as disparate as
Walter Pater’s Brasenose College (Oxford), the virtual middle-class home of
Mary Haweis’ interior decoration guides, or the socialist utopia of William Morris’ News from Nowhere. The milieu’s
artificial elements are those “objects” constructed by a regime of pastorship,
while the natural givens are everything present in a location but not
constructed by that regime. According to this understanding multiple milieux
can operate and contest each other within a single location. The milieu’s conducting
artificial elements are what Foucault and later Agamben define as the “dispositif”
(apparatus): anything coupling living beings with a larger field by orienting,
intercepting, or securing their behaviors, thoughts, or discourses. Although
only one node through which conduct is conducted and by which that desired
conduct is resisted, the dispositif is useful for understanding localized
liberal pastorship because it is a medium for “free” contact, exchange, and
circulation between individual bodies and regimes of power. Walter Pater’s The Renaissance: Studies in Art and Poetry
offers not only what I argue is a late-Victorian theory of the dispositif, but
also a program of counter-conduct: Hellenic subjectivity.
Pater’s aesthetic criticism 1) locates the
aesthetic object’s medium-specific “sensual element” and 2) estimates “the
degree to which a given work of art fulfills its responsibilities to its
special material.” Rather than focusing on art’s intellectual content as does
Ruskin (great art provides the greatest number of great ideas, therein
orienting the proper conduct/morality they imply – think reading “The
Definition of Greatness in Art” coupled with “Of Queen’s Gardens”), instead Pater’s
aesthetic critic focuses on a work’s sensual element in order to understand its
operations upon the individual at a sensual and affective level – “How is my
nature modified by its presence.” Art, Pater argues, operates through its
proper materiality in order to reach the viewer’s “imaginative reason” via the
senses. The gap between art’s materiality and imaginative reason’s
immateriality is bridged by the sensuous element, the artist’s “mode of
handling” proper a given medium. Although rooted in art’s materiality, the
sensuous element is irreducible to materiality and is instead a sort of
spectrality hovering between the two. According to Pater, an aesthetic object’s
sensuous element delights the senses in part to “become the vehicle of whatever
poetry or science may lie beyond the intention of the composer.” Pater locates
in the sensuous element the medium through which an individual comes into
“contact” with a regime of liberal pastorship – again, think Ruskin’s criticism
its attendant conduct: the sensuous element is that medium or condition of
possibility for art’s greatness, its ability to conduct “free” conduct.
Yet, this contact
with liberal pastorship worries Pater, who wishes to theorize the ideal
aesthetic object, which should be an end in itself: “Art, then, is thus always
striving to be independent of the mere intelligence, to become a matter of pure
perception.” That is: if the aesthetic object via its sensuous element threatens
to place the viewer into relation with some regime of liberal pastorship, it
becomes more efficacious the more independent of that pastorship it can get.
Of course this tendency is an
idealization. As Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian
Grey tells us, all aesthetic objects partake in a milieu and therefore
serve to conduct conduct for better or worse. Nevertheless, we see in Pater’s
schematization of the aesthetic object’s operations a model of the dispositif as
a one mechanism of pastorship. Insofar as it tends towards autonomy, the aesthetic
object serves as the node with which a certain counter-conduct, Hellenic
subjectivity, orients itself. The proper comportment demanded by the pure aesthetic
object is one of suspension of content/pastoral baggage and attunement with the
autopoietic sensuous element – a two step counter conduct (im)famously promoted
in The Renaissance’s conclusion, one
that renounces the hallmark “disinterestedness” of the classic liberal subject.
Supine reflection “suspends” one’s comportment to the “cohesive forces” and
“the action of those forces extending beyond us” in order to experience the
ecstatic “weaving and unweaving of ourselves.” The Hellenic subject, constituted
by its blithe repose and its concentrating breadth/attunement, names the
counter-conduct seeking only “to burn always with this hard, gem-like flame, to
maintain this ecstasy” – opened by the suspending or profaning dispositif, the
aesthetic object indifferent to everything but its own sensuous element.
The
intersection of dispositif, Hellenic subjectivity, and pastorship offers an
opportunity for a series of “strategic” displacements: from object of analysis
to field of truth engulfing it, from institution to general order, from function
to general economy of power – all ways to consider the class, race, and gender
exclusions making Hellenic subjectivity possible.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Not-So-Surprising News: Katehi Sucks at Her Job, Reynoso Task Force Reports
After much delay, the Reynoso Task Force Report on Peppergate has been released! LINK No real surprises here, at least for those of us at UCD who aren't Katehi's technoscience, privatization foot soldiers (that is, nearly every department other than most humanities programs and physics). This report just provides the official proof of what those without our heads up our academically self-interested asses knew already: Katehi is grossly inept at her job. Some highlights: "The Chancellor Bears Primary Responsibility for the Decision to Deploy the Police at 3 p.m. Rather than During the Night or Early Morning, Which is a Tactical Decision Properly Reserved for Police Authorities" and "The Chancellor Bears Primary Responsibility for the Failure to Communicate Her Position that the Police Operation Should Avoid Physical Force." It also appears that the administration and the UCPD were merely indulging in a neoliberal paranoid fantasy within which they saw student protests as part of a global socialist agenda. It is nice to know this, but it is also greatly disconcerting: those with the resources and ambiguous legal authority to amass and employ militarized police equipment calculate their behavior according to capitalist dystopian nightmares rather than even half-hearted assessments of the tactical situations at hand. Hopeful something (i.e. criminal charges, resignations, and substantial reforms) come out of this report. If they can charge 12 peaceful protesters with "obstructing a thoroughfare," maybe the Yolo County DA can press charges for some actual physical assaults?
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