constant escape

winter withered, warm
Might have a handle on it. From the first paragraph of Ch. 3 of a thousand plateaus: "The Earth [...] is a body without organs. This body without organs is permeated by unformed, unstable matters, by flows in all directions, by free intensities or nomadic singularities, by mad or transitory particles"

The manner in which "unformed, unstable matters" ≈ "unstable matters" ≈ "flows in all directions" ≈ "free intensities" ≈ "nomadic singularities" ("≈" being used to indicate some degree of overlap, situational equation) can be used to unpack/decrypt some of this stuff. These are things that permeate the body without organs, which is also situationally equated to the plane of consistency (I believe).

I think the body without organs is the extremely unorganized ensemble, not yet "striated" or compartmentalized - which would give rise to distinction/qualization and function. If the body without organs is comprised/"permeated" by free intensities, that means every point/quantum of it is of a unique quality - and thus the whole thing is one quality: noise. Signal is the fruit of organization here (?).

Sort of how, if everyone is exceptional, no one is. Exception only exists relative to a rule, and rules only arise once distinctions/striations are arbitrated, once territories are formed.

If every point has its own territory, then no territory exists, no organs exist, seeing as an organ is something distinct, something that is distinguished from other organs and from the nonorganic bulk. From this vantage point, territorialization enables and entails organization. The intensity, here, is a point with its own territory. And the body without organs is the space consisting of such points/quanta.

I like how the social pressure here can be harnessed to work this stuff out, lest I post something wrong!
 

luka

Well-known member
Staff member
whatever is registered is registered as an intensity, of greater or lesser extent
 

poetix

we murder to dissect
We are writing this book as a rhizome. It is composed of plateaus. We have given it a circular form, but only for laughs. Each morning we would wake up, and each of us would ask himself what plateau he was going to tackle, writing five lines here, ten there. We had hallucinatory experiences, we watched lines leave one plateau and proceed to another like columns of tiny ants.

The whole thing was hilarious, except that the line which finally led to our destination was the longest one in history! In fact, it went on for over two thousand pages. I think we were all laughing at one point, when suddenly we heard an explosion outside. A bomb exploded near the house, and everyone started running away from it. Then we saw a man with a long beard coming towards us. He looked very old, and his face was covered by a white beard. His eyes were black, and they stared into ours. "What do you want?" he asked in a low voice. "We're just writing a book", I replied. He nodded, and told us to follow him. We did so, and we entered his office. He told us to be very quiet, because if his wife, who was an artist, had not overheard him returning, she would have killed him. He then asked us what we were writing about. I told him, and he started smiling. "Oh, it's about the war, isn't it?" he said. "I used to fight in the old wars. What are you writing about the war?" he then asked us two girls, who seemed terrified.

We explained to him that we were writing about the new war, but that we were uncertain as to what to write about the old war. "Well, why not about the love of the old wars?" he asked. "It was the greatest love of all." He told us to wait, and he left the room. After about five minutes, we heard a scream outside. It was the old man's wife. She had killed herself by shooting herself in the head. She was lying in front of the house. "What did you do that for?" we heard the old man saying. He was trying to pick her up. "Why did you kill yourself?" We could only stare at him. Then, we heard another explosion outside. This one was louder than the first. It was the army, trying to find the man. They probably heard the gunshots, and the suicide.

We ran away that very moment, leaving the house and never returning to it. The old man and his wife were not to be found. We never did find out what happened to them. All we know is that we, their children, survived the war.
 

poetix

we murder to dissect
The rite, the becoming-animal of the scapegoat clearly illustrates this: a first expiatory animal is sacrificed, but a second is driven away, sent out into the desert wilderness. In the signifying regime, the scapegoat represents a new form of increasing entropy in the system of signs: it is charged with everything that was "bad" in a given period, that is, everything that resisted signifying signs, everything that eluded the referral from sign to sign through the different circles; it also assumes everything that was unable to recharge the signifier as its center and carries off everything that spills beyond the outermost circle.

The third animal is the one that remains behind in the desert, and it represents all things that are not yet able to be referred back to their origin or to their place in the cycle of signs. It is the thing that does not belong here, the thing that has no more meaning, because it has already been taken over by something else. This is what we call the "wilderness," the "unused space." This is how you can understand the significance of the last two animals: they represent those who have lost their way in life. One is a sinner who has sacrificed himself to atone for the rest, as in the ritual of baptism. The other is an animal which has nothing more to give and dies a sacrificial death.

Now, in your case, the last two animals are linked. The first one is the wild man, the sinner who is willing to sacrifice himself. And the second is the child, the animal which has nothing more to give and dies.

You are the wild man.
 

luka

Well-known member
Staff member
that's good too. it's almost as if it has a french theory setting it can slip into
 

craner

Beast of Burden
So Maxwell says Anti-Oedipus is crypto-fascist, while Foucault described it as the key to anti-fascist living. Who is right?
 

version

Who loves ya, baby?
Here's "Maxwell" on Anti-Oedipus.
 

craner

Beast of Burden
Here's "Maxwell" on Anti-Oedipus.
Invite him to Dissensus, Version.
 
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