reading on a train

A girl  ’reading’ on the train, Contemporary Strategy Analysis - Grant.  I can read the title because its a very thick textbook with copius amounts of white space between the words and meanings. White space containing more meaning than the text itself. The DVD of strategic analysis examples have been removed from the rear cover and loaded onto some computer or other. She is resting her smartphone on the cover typing messages to someone or something ….
"I am only writing this down so that when you do not see me any more you will know that my enemy has finally triumphed."

— Anna Kavan, Asylum Piece (via proustitute)

Tags: Anna Kavan

many politics… (The Control Society)

Paul,Virilio depicts the world State as it is sketched out today: a world of absolute peace still more terrifying than that of total war, having realised its full identity with the abstract machine, and in which the equilibrium of spheres of influence and of great segments intercommunicates with a secret capillarity - where the luminous and clearly dissected city now shelters only nocturnal troglodytes, each embedded in his own black hole, a social swamp which exactly completes the (Virillio 1976)’…obvious and super-organised society’… Deleuze/Parnet Dialogues p139.

The commodification of death…

Walking behind two young men dressed in conservative dark suits, one wearing a cheap pink and blue striped office shirt, both smoking cigarettes, one explaining to the other how F… had helped him get this job. They inhale in unison and cough.


Asleep, the doorbell rings waking him up, he opens his eyes and hears it ring again. He looks at the clock besides his bed, its not yet 7AM. Sitting up thinking of leaning out the window and calling to the person ringing the bell. Instead he pulls on his dressing gown and goes down. Everyday life written on flights of stairs. Drawing the belt together he discovers nobody is at the door. Only then does he realise that he had dreamed the doorbell again. His imaginary still hoping for a mysterious package from the postman, he looks into the empty packages box, the postman was in fact usually a woman but there was little rational about his imaginary. It was he thinks a sign of his boredom. He goes back upstairs and looks at the woman, uncovered in the bed, she briefly opens her eyes. “uh, are you all right?” He smiles… “yes…”  The ennui of everyday life…

the juror …

Why was I always so ready to suppose that if I got to talking with anyone whom I said good  afternoon to during my walks along this path I should be bound to find him or her full of reactionary opinions about everything ? It is true that the majority of walkers here - including the working class ones , who anyway were indistinguishable  from the fewer middle class walker in dress and appearance if not in their voices - were likely to hold such opinions, but no doubt they held them in varying degrees  of conviction and as a rule unthinkingly. And if I assumed that nothing I or anyone else with an outlook similar to mine might say to them could alter theirs in  the slightest then I would be no better than one of the intellectual renegades who have arrived at a philistines disbelief in the possibility of human progress…. Edward Upward  (The Night Walk - (Nine political proses pieces: 1976-1979))

In a Stark Restaurant with K…

In the evening we, together with K sit in one of the booths in the cafebar in the arcade, its the cocktail hour and is one of the quiet times in the bar. Yet as we sit in the alcove beneath the hanging tapestry, at one of the movable tables designed to let the more common overweight drinkers to slide out of the alcove - or even to enable tapas or drinks to be passed around and shared, we realize suddenly that their are others are close by on adjancent tables, couples who find themselves suddenly embedded in our life stories, as we are in theirs, all part of the same   chaotic uncertain universe, as are all our  singular destinies. Whilst the young couple to the right are at the beginning of things, a certain carefulness in the way they speak…
[-Jasa, han var det. Men i somras holl forbibindelsen pa att ga isar.
- Ja. Falk fick veta att Hedlund brukade besome Ulla och da  blev han svartsjuk…. Men det ordnade sig sa smaningnom.
- Vad anser ni om er vaninnas forsvinnande ?
- Jag kan inte forklara det.
- Hedlund kanner ni ju personligen….
- Har ni nagr fotograpier av froken Lundgren och Hedlund ?]
 The woman across the room whose elegance speaks of casual wealth, is standing by the bar talking to the owner - he looks like a professionally interested man. A course or two of small dishes arrive as we watch them go outside to stand beneath the arbor and smoke cigarettes together in the half-light, she laughs smoke and he smiles as if happy. We were amongst the last people to leave, we often were in those days. They were still together sitting on stools eating the food he’d ordered. It was raining outside.
No home but the struggle …

No home but the struggle …

from where is the commons derived?

- it seems to me that the commons of humanity is not held. It neither arises from it, not remains attached to it. It does not hold to rules or norms which we would  see ourselves from  the outset as having been subject to (the rule of the good and beautiful or even those rules of judicious discourse)…. For we always suspect that they again enclose this common in the communitarian, since this question will always have to be asked when drawing up its genealogy;  are their codes not codifications (and as such always threatened with an exception and conversely liable to provoke all the more violently the anathema of exclusion.  As much appears symptomatically in a striking continuity which, from Aristotle to Habermas, is usually rather immovable: anyone who does not respect judicious  discourse has ceased t anything more than a plant, is constrained to suicide and excluded from humanity… 
On the contrary, I say that this communality (commun)  of the human belongs to the order of the source. It comes and never ceases to come, from what alone forms an inexhaustable resource. The commons is not the base, as the French speak of the base of a case (fundus) which is finally revealed when everything has been taken out of it; when all the differences between cultures have been removed (and abstracted). But it is the basic funds  (funs) in the sense of a possibility to be exploited, in  the sense of what is indefinitely sharable,  and this is so by and in common intelligence, thereby producing, through continuous overflowing, a comprehension beyond every frontier and every particular, doing so by means of integrating them.  Only such a communicability in the intelligible, not one  that is believed to be given, but that is in process, will keep this communality open. It is in this power to exist  and to develop that the common exists and not in some prior condition.
The common is thus not a state or a skill - it is something always to be conquered and deployed…
Francois Jullien (2008/14)
"Capitalism was a natural phenomenon with which a new dream-filled sleep came over Europe, and, through it, a reactivation of mythic forces."

— Benjamin, The Arcades Project [K1a,8] (via rykalski)