In the cool of the morning as the heat builds up, hiding in the library, wandering around the stacks, meandering around the half read ideologies, in the chaotics of writing your dissertation.
…epistemological obstacles, used more or less in the sense that Gaston Bachelard (formation of the scientific mind) meant it; referencing the burdens of tradition that slow down and prevent scientific, philosophical and cultural analyses and perhaps even raise false expectations that cannot be met or despite the problems hinted at here cannot be replaced. In this context then tradition can be said to have responded to natural questions and in the simple problematics of the past to have provided answers. In the present however science, philosophy and cultural analyses have become theory dependent, whose solutions can only be judged within the context being hinted at here…. The epistemological obstacles blocking our ways forward, which include the definitions of information, the canons, the unworkable ideas, dominant ideologies, are all insufficiently complex and completely overestimate their ability to deal with the objects and relations that are at stake… epistemological obstacles block everything…
”..To safeguard the earth or respect the weather, the wind and rain, we would have to think toward the long term and because we don’t live out in the weather, we’ve unlearned how to think in accordance with its rhythms and its scope. Concerned with maintaining his position, the politician makes plans that rarely go beyond the next election, the administrator reigns over the next fiscal budgetary year, and news goes out on a daily and weekly basis, As for contemporary science, its born in journal articles that almost never go back more than ten years; even if work on the paleoclimate recapitulates tens of millennia, it goes back less than three decades itself….” MIchel Serres
(in a strange land within my country… Aragon) …strange indeed is the encounter with the other… confronting the foreigner whom i reject and with whom at the same identify… I lose my composure. I feel lost, indolent, hazy…. Yet the foreigner is within us. And when we flee from or struggle against the foreigner, we are fighting our unconscious …. delicately, analytically… we must be taught to detect foreignness in ourselves…. By recognizing our uncanny strangeness we shall neither suffer from it nor enjoy it from the outside.The foreigner is within me, hence we are all foreigners. If i am a foreigner there are no foreigners…. (Julia Kristeva Strangers to Ourselves, some from page 192)
We are sitting in the shade of the library, the doors folded open to let the summer heat enter the room. Chatting easily about the decades we have been living together, our friends, those who couldn’t live together, those who shouldn’t and those who are still surprisingly living together, like us really. Outside beyond the garden’s boundaries, young girls are shrieking with pleasure. Too far away to go to the fence to see what is causing the commotion. The garden chimes ring in the hot summer breeze. It was raining during the night and occasionally in the morning, but now the moisture has mostly evaporated. Across the room as we talk of possible endings that never happened, I see a copy of Julio Cortazar’s Around The Day in Eighty Worlds… it’s been on some shelf or other since 1990, nobody has opened it for at least five years. There is an advertising postcard for a bar in Paleo date Wednesday 19th August… "I am indebted to Lester Young. One night when Lester filled the melody of ‘thee little words’ with smoke and rain, I understood better than ever the way great jazzmen would stay faithful to a theme by playing against it, transformng it and rendering it iridescent…."(3) Tomorrow it is supposed to rain heavily but that is another world all together….
Plagiarism is necessary. Progress implies it. It holds tight an author’s phrase, uses his expressions, eliminates a false idea, and replaces it with just the right idea. – Comte de Lautréamont
…. we call work at an entropic level hard: hammer blows on a chisel, steel melting, engines or nuclear bombs. We call acts at the information level soft: traces, marks, signs, codes and ther meaning…. a kind of paleolithic age is ending. Today an unpredictable bifurcation is taking place: it is the end of the hard and the beginning of the soft. It concerns not only the soft of morality but also of codes, the theoretical, scholarly and work related soft; for example, as blue collar work is lessening, there is an immense in crease in white collar work in production, the law and collective activities. This soft makes access and intervention possible. We have arrived at the deep tectonic plate where encounters, short circuits and ruptures between hard and soft provoke earthquakes… (p71-72) A Time of Crisis - Serres
Every itchy eye, every sneeze always catches us by surprise, an unexpected moment when nature penetrates the skin of our body through one of the many holes in the skin, encouraging us, in what sense? We might recognise in the bright midday light (I transcribe this from a notebook at midday in July) that we are impossible to satisfy, that we can never transcend our limitations, because we are determined by the limitations of our bodies, with our itchy eyes, thinking of where we left the anti-histamines. We breathe deeply and the sneeze explodes into the air, involuntarily we move, with a reaction equivalent to some definable thermodynamic force, we deflate and collapse into ourselves, feeling flushed at the expenditure of energy we can no longer afford at our age. Later, the next morning when we are suffering under another set of allergic sneezing, regretting that the pill has not yet worked, pouring a glass of fruit juice into a glass to take the blood pressure medicine, also necessary to slow down the inevitable entropic decline, aren’t we slightly saddened by our thermodynamic sneezing and its trivial effect…