letter: moribund parricide
(a dying, forceless act of killing the father or something close to it)
it is hard to talk about self-referrentiality without being cute. it is hard to talk without being cute. it is hard to talk. but being cute is not such a bad thing after all? or is it? the permanent mark of priviledge. ha, ha. no. but a lasting one. priviledge is nothing but a mark. what is something but a mark? i am, you say. and, pray, explain to me who “you” is, are, may be? no, hon, not you. but i. should tell you if i could, perhaps, that i am no one. not one. not anymore. nor two nor three. i am not, without hope, after all, without fantasy i am not much. only a trace in a glass of cherry the guest left, leaves. always
with love
Irreme Seshat
(a dying, forceless act of killing the father or something close to it)
it is hard to talk about self-referrentiality without being cute. it is hard to talk without being cute. it is hard to talk. but being cute is not such a bad thing after all? or is it? the permanent mark of priviledge. ha, ha. no. but a lasting one. priviledge is nothing but a mark. what is something but a mark? i am, you say. and, pray, explain to me who “you” is, are, may be? no, hon, not you. but i. should tell you if i could, perhaps, that i am no one. not one. not anymore. nor two nor three. i am not, without hope, after all, without fantasy i am not much. only a trace in a glass of cherry the guest left, leaves. always
with love
Irreme Seshat
posted by irreme seshat at 12:38 PM
4 Comments:
There are no conscious connections to eastern thinkers in this. hopelessly wrapped up in the west; can i/we ever get untangled from this monster of a tradition? i don't think so. which is not to say the attempts would not be worth it, but i have not made them. is all philosophy really a kind of platonism in so far as it is governed by, begins with, assums opposition?
Your discourse brings both Derrida and Gertrude Stein to mind. I remember having debates about whether Stein was a modernist or a postmodernist. Everyone wanting to own her. I think she'd have laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed. And each laugh would, of course, have been a different laugh. But now I'm thinking of Borges and Stanislaw Lem.
If I were to read Borges, what should i start with? Yes, both Stein and Derrida are dear to me. I'm taking a course on Derrida now, the theme of which is animality.
And the laughter, is Foucauldian, Deleuzian, a shattering laughter, in the tradition of proper names.
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