Ghosts can do so as well, they are everywhere where there is watching; the dead cannot do so – it is impossible and they must not do so. That the without-ground of this impossible can nevertheless take place is on the contrary the ruin or the absolute ashes, the threat that must be thought, and why not, exorcised yet again. To exorcise not in order to chase away the ghosts, but this time to grant them the right, if it means making them come alive, as revenants who would no longer be revenants, but as other arrivants to whom a hospitable memory or promise must offer welcome – without certainty, ever, that they present themselves as such. Not in order to grant them the right in this sense but out of a concern for justice. Present existence or essence has never been the condition, object, or the thing of justice.
It seems essential to me that we organize new micro-political and micro-social practices, new solidarities, a new gentleness, while at the same time applying new aesthetic and analytical practices to the formations of the unconscious. If social and political practices are to be set back on their feet, we need to work for humanity, rather than simply for a permanent re- equilibration of the capitalist semiotic universe. The objection might be, of course, that large-scale struggles are not necessarily in synchrony with ecological praxes and the micro-politics of desire…Not only is it necessary not to homogenize the various levels of practice - not to join them under the aegis of some transcendent instance; we have also to engage them in processes of heterogenesis.
Come is an
Make you come by paralyzing you;
Make you write by haunting you.
I call every possible name
Who precedes who? I’m spooked.
I remember the ashes. I see
Myself no longer seeing you.
"Let it be made in the dorsum!" Why
Can’t you just say ass? We are who
We are in, expending all our energy
Into interiors not linked to worldly gain.
We lose friends. We make ghosts. We
Roll over in the night and hide our hard
On from ghosts. Everywhere there is
Watching they are there looking at our
Hard on. They hope we make our seed
Accessible to who we are now in.
We will make children, to spite ghosts,
With an evil, dire, inappropriate, immoral,
Wicked, foul, vile, corrupt, iniquitous,
Depraved, villainous, nefarious, vicious,
Malignant, baleful, degenerate, shitty,
Depraved name so only we can love it
When we hear it, read it, see it, taste it,
Ghosts believe, in their
Inability, to count to three. They can’t.
We are two. Our backs become
Postcards for their seed. We lie
On top. Ghosts cannot bury us.
"One must always go before the other."
Hide your hard on. Come.