[D-G] malgosia, Virginia, please your turn to speak.

Liza Kozner liza_kozner at yahoo.co.uk
Fri Dec 2 10:40:21 PST 2005


it's not a phantasm. if you think by common notion, outside of the imagination, you can learn to see how it works, not only the ideas that are anchored by intellectual discourse, but and thus out of anykind of interpretation, propaganda, you see how it works, how wee have or are being asked to surrender some part of ourselves for the highest powers of society. it's really not a phantasm. it's not immediately visible. you could get hallucination, see subliminal message and want to destroy your clock, your tv as a mystic. but what is important is to resist, to fight, not only to love God. it's the way of Abraham, to disobey, to turn the face away from God as God turns his face the other way. so it's not the discourse of imagination, of interpretation, of signs, is the discourse of analysis, instead than being analysed, you give the power to your body, to other people's body. much interested by artaud at the moment, when speaking  about stage. in a world of Elie Faure's Indians digging
 in a mountain, people have lost, been stolen, either it is by capitalist war machines either by the state, i am trying to make the analysis, what is this, what is that, the proportions in the mixture, every elements, so there's analysis, but yet i (and thus it's virtualities, none less real!) and i want to work my mind in this direction at the moment.
   
  for what you say on not being proud. i think it's related because i don't line up to the vanities of human's celebration, there search for happyness. i think its part of class. classes who belong to the Image of Thought of the State or Capitalism, the Upper Classes, or the Upper Men, want to have standards, and i think, your judgment stems out from that, it's a Upper Class standard that drives you to tell me I am not proud.
  Pride is actually a matter of solitude, it's alone that you find pride, you have to invent your own values. It's not that there is no pride, but it's a virtue, not a moral, social jugment. ok?
   
  

hwenk <hwenk at web.de> wrote:
  Hello Liza,

it looks like you are not very proud of yourself.

Sometimes the machinery and the world which is about to
swallow one up or deform one is only a little bit
a phantasm. As in Deleuze there is no phantasms, as far as I know, it may be
a thinking with its affects almost on the whole to the own mind.

Often the world does not know anything about the cruelties she does to
people thinking to be a victim of her.

As my advices do not end, this time I give a
appraisal of self-content happiness.
As we say in mathematics: "The details are left to the reader."

greetings Harald Wenk

-----Original Message-----
From: deleuze-guattari-bounces at lists.driftline.org
[mailto:deleuze-guattari-bounces at lists.driftline.org]On Behalf Of Liza
Kozner
Sent: Donnerstag, 1. Dezember 2005 05:24
To: deleuze-guattari at lists.driftline.org
Subject: Re: [D-G] malgosia, Virginia, please your turn to speak.



Ok, i have just made this decision. Let's keep merry. Let's not debate.
Let's just keep everything as usual.

I am sorry if we have to be resigned, if we have to be little worms. It's
the world, the arrangements who want it. Let'us be dashes of vanishing
non-dimensional point, particles in chaotic fusion. Actualities disappearing
with not awareness of the speed at which they are vanishing.

And the example of mathematics? Well, it's good. Let's keep this aswell.
Part of the sum. We're part of the sum. Living in the imaginating
phantasmatic procession of algebraic numbers.

I am rotten. It's michievous. I at least voice my truth. Not a Maria
Bellen, saying, singing creativity and keeping silent. I am a worm which
speaks. It speaks on a list which is good as an absurdity. We're working for
the memory of a guy who decided there would be a list or lists.

So let's avoid my proposition for a debate. It's absurd as well. This is
absurd aswell. I like the way I am advancing, in the walls. My had crashes
and i go up up up in the realm of vanishing words, words with no meanings.
Like a snake I am growing.


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