The impossible self re-imposed ( simulation Theory )

Posted: 10/27/2007 8:04:52 AM

After ceturies of distorted delusion and containment of the body, the overexposure of sexual identity
has everything to keep from what it truly is. The last obscene joke.

Paleontological productions of hollywood mythology, polyps and homo sap transformations, after the
failed revolutions, the existential drift and great lies of structuralism pornography, the enslavement of
hegelian madness poly-morphed into empty by-products of a marxist age reduced to ashes, the entire
history of ordinary life is wiped off the map. The modern form of the world as it is. Everyone effaces
himself.

What is really happening ? In the practice of evil, the definition of man has been subtracted, the
woman is barely a metaphor left over from the age of postmodern redundancy. Nuclear perpetrators
say amen. There is a silence underfoot, ontology ripped like a flag where everything tends to
disappear and implode by useless theory.

Philosophy leads to castration.

who is dead ? who is alive ? you can go from life to the sublime without leaving a trace.

To under go analysis, is the most sexual experience, but how has philosophy, a movement that is
almost completly without sex, withholding 'Jouissance', poly-morphed it's way onto the doctors
couch? Is Freud aware that he is playing a very dangerous game by admonishing philosophy? He
might well believe that certain points of his thought do not need to be elaborated because he himself
is not a philosopher, but this, in point of fact, is an act of 'bad faith' as Sartre would say.

Freud very much is indeed a philosopher, with his theorys of the unconscious, their drives and their
desires, their deleriums. And yet tell a psychologist or psychoanylst that his is the work of
philosophy, and he will gasp, almost in utter horror.

The realm of the americanized thearauputic is destroying European anaylsis. These are the days of
the verbal extinct.
Here we shall concern ourselves with the work of french philosopher Guy Debard and the
Situationsts movement, that helped usher in radical change in light of the May 68 riots and
protests of France.

I shall work off of three main point's of Debard's, followed by my commentary.

# 3: the spectacle presents itself simultaneously as all of society, as part of society, and as
instrument of unification. Due to the very fact that this sector is seperate, it is the common ground
of the deceived gaze and of false consciousness, and the unifacation it achieves is nothing but an
official language of generalized speration.

# 4: The spectacle is not a collection of images, but a social relation among people, mediated by
images.

# 12: The spectacle presents itself as something enormously positive, indisputable and
inaccessible. It says nothing more that " that which appears is good, that which is good appears "
the attitude which it demands in principle is passive acceptance which in fact it already obatined
by its manner of appearing without reply, by it's monopoly of appearence.

First of all, it should be most obvious to all what the " Spectacle " is that Debard is referring to, a
general current list would be as follows:
Television
Cd's
DVD's
the theater
VCR's or DVD players
I-pods
Stereos
gadgets within the automoblie
commercials
fashion industry
advertisements
billboards
sale displays
sports, including arenas, football stadiums, baseball fields, the tennis court, ect.
and yes, computers, most of all.
The list is endless, especially since Debard's death and the maniacal rise of capitalisim.

So what is society's complicit approval of it's very own slavery, as Marx had predicted, and Freud
deeply annaylized within the private sector? Radical french theory surely hasn't freed us from any
of this. Not to mention in France itself, where most philosophical resistance's reside, booms the
largest fashion industry of the psychoses of models and designers.

But beyond all this what remains. Here in Corporate America you cant go anywhere that has not
already been, itself, completly fetishized, and whored out. The spectacle has won. So is the '
revolution ' only the idea of young NYU and Columbia students who sooner forget the idea just as
they had finished formulating it. Much pessimistic speculation will arise. However, if there is a
sermon left, it is has most certainly been left behind with the riots of May 68. To be remebered
but not to be practised.
This spectacle is now the prosthesis of the human body. Mataphysics stops here, this is the realm of
the techno ontology. Debard condemned modern man, but flew from his responsiblity to fight aginst
the condemnation he had put upon us.

Now are there any loose ends where one might still be able to struggle out from underneath this
spectacular fetish cell, this is quite a redundant question. Take for example the very fact that I am
asking this question on a computer, one of the ultimate aspects of this enemy, the spectacle, is this not
the epitomy of the absurd, as Camu would say? Certainly. So why this contradiction? well, must we
not reach the blind in the very store house of their commodity, or veil of Maya so to speak?
An evil for an evil with the ultimate aim of good. Except that the messenger might end up being
seduced by this spectacle to stay a little longer.

Guy Debard lived alot of years in seclusion, reading alot and writing little. He ended up shooting
himself in the heart. This is what saddens me most, as suicide among philosophers, ( and suicide
among everyman, though Seneca would have us believe that only the refined and most intellegent of
men are destined for it ) is not often discussed, or at least not in the realm of the real emotional crises
that occured at the core of these men, Walter Benjamin included, although now it has been aleged
that Benjamin was murdered, of course suicide among society is most often discussed, thankfully,
though with no real answers to reveal or lessons to teach, Debard, more than anyone during the may
68 period of France really revealed what was at the heart of society, not just within capitalisim, but
every sector, infected by the spectacle.

I can't imagine what ran through his head throught all the years of his seclusion, did he feel like a
failure, a prophet speaking to the primetime pundants and synchophants of the globalized market,
besides which who else will hear, for don't we listen best only when our interests are in threat?

I will interpret some more of Debard, and try to lead this into theory's of simulation, not simulation as
in Nick Bostrom's hypothesis, which just having read, disturbs me, but based upon some of the
theory's of Baudrillard.
After the hugo animal machine, or the schizoid machine, comes this utter fascination with returnable
forms. Namely: the machine can become more intelligent. To soften the blow of this powerful
cosmetic hi-speed spectacle, ( commodity ), the business sectors have done their ends in pleasing a
system without reason. Their return is exchangable data, an endless feild of data. What is the face of
society? In other words what can we tell by merely looking at it? Andy Warhol declared: " if you
want to know about Andy Warhol, just look at the surface of my paintings, there's nothing behind it. "
In other words, theres nothing missing. What does this tell us? Has Andy Warhol described society as
a machine, as this machinic coming to be out of an utter fascination with itself? Andy is commodity.
Andy is pure exchangable form; nothing for nothing, society sees itself, and it is a blank circle.

Any good revolution is doomed to fail. Philosophy has seen that it can no more do it's part as truth
teller, than can Warhol tell that what he is actually selling is commoditty wrapped up in sexuality, a
blanket end depth form.

Besides, the philospher never really gets his hands dirty, does he? Debard got his hands dirty, as did
many other future and present philosophers in the may 68 revolution, though from the machinic point
of view, this is only the may 68 incident.
Where are those who have plunged their hands into the dirt of existence? Where are those who
sacrificed themselves, for the bullet through Guy Debards heart, was the one meant for us. He took
that bullet unto himself. He left us the revolution of the society of the spectacle, he saved us a little
more time.

How is this time spent? What are the agenda's of our thinkers? These great treasure houses of
intellectual surplas? Again we return to Warhol. " Theres nothing behind it ",
theres nothing missing. Lacan is dead. Derrida is dead. Foucault is dead. Baudrillard is dead. Debard
is dead.

Death encroaches upon Paul Virilio and Slavoj Zizek, old age is coming. It will leave us with no
philosophical surplas. The dream is dreaming us tonight.

Philosophy rest in peice.

Beneath all this development is the perpetual non development. Storage units wait to empty their
certain brand of spectacle, even if it's a person, ( say models ) waiting to be released so as to seduce
through a lack of seduction, because when the pornagraphic is more pornagraphic than porn, it is
intregal reality, intregal sexuality, intregal meaning, sold into permanent display.

Science cannot seperate truth from fiction. The lives we lead are novels, and no bizarre concept is
more plausible than an inverted remainder, signifying sexual cause, the repressed element, so to
speak.

Freaud didn't tell us everything about sexuality. Which is why we needed Lacan. But even Lacan
cannot encapsulate the whole scope of what drives this repression or this overabundance. And
anyway, a porn star or stripper or prostitue might be able to tell you more. The best psychoanalyist
would be a reformed street girl with a doctorate. Then the debates could really begin.

But is Psychoanalysis part of this spectacle? Hasn't it revealed to us some of the perverse reasons
why we are grateful to our captors and the spectacle they supply us with. Surely there can be no easy
way to answer this. But in the realm of fictional philosophy all things stand on uncertain ground.

The best psychoanalyist would be a reformed street girl with a

doctorate.

-provided i want to know about men-maybe

So, sexuality is a confined element, I meant that perhaps the repressed stodgy non-sexical, so to
speak, aspect of patient x, the consumer, or signifier, would best be brought to light under the guise
of someone who has gathered the war wounds of their repressed sexical elements, and through their
doctorate and hopefully orgasmic thesis, this can be achieved, the same applies for male hustlers, so
your statement, either way is quite useless, the only repressive sighn in the individual ego that can be
detailed is the one that pinpoints the locus of jouissance at the suture point of said individual. I am
glad however that given all the ideas I am addressing and putting out there you choose to grasp for
straws, where quite clearly your own signifying elements have been crossed.
Through a surplus of the spectacle, what is original in mans thought. Society, has usurped individual
identity's and turned them into relay stations playing the staticy messages of 2 a.m. What does
philosophy seek to recover, as even the sale of books, a quite expensive commodity exhange, is now
a part of this spectacle. A philosophers appeareance on television or in an documentary, as in Derrida,
the documentary Jaques Derrida agreed to do, though quite hesitantly, and durning the film, he
constantly pointed out the contradiction of having to say these things on film, on commodity media
blank sheet.

It is quite funny to see how these current far left marxist philosophers like Slavoj Zizek who is still
one of my favorites nonetheless, has books out on the market that run well past the price range of a
hundred dollars. All taking part of this society of the spectacle. Now isn't this bad faith on their part?
And opposed to their marxist Lacanian ideology? Certainly, but I wouldn't say that they should give
their books out for free, though I would really respect a philosopher then.

Entrapment is set on all sides of the barrel so to speak. Bad in-house operators on the platform of
their own agendas, as I often think, if the true Lacanian marxist revolution happened that these
philosophers so dreamed of, what would they have left to write about? I think that they should
perhaps be a little more honest about the enjoyment of their citiques of damaged society, I wouldn't
say that this apply to all current philosophers, in fact I know that it doesnt, but with Zizek I think it
does.

And of course none of this applies to Debard, who really did want the revolution.

Is philosophy now part of this this complicit hostage taking, self idealized critique, is there an ear? Is
there a voice?

Show them the commodity and they will fetishisize it. Including philosophy.
Yet there is a myth that supports our modern age, in all of its individualism and in all of its identity-
related tenets of surety: the myth of the self, the undivided, the unique, the paradigm, the one, the
whole, the only, the original…

And what shall we call that?

The endless roll of duct tape with which the home handyperson wraps up the cracks and splits and
striations and separations that form between what they like to think they are and what they have
actually managed to become in their lives – all fixed up now, thank you, but totally helpless and inert
and bound by the impotence of their own efforts to hold it all together..?

The bottomless trough of mortar, toweled into the breaks between a future that never arrives and a
present that never leaves, a promise of things to come which dangles from the stick of unrealized
potential just in front – always just in front – of the ongoing reality of who one still is in that
hardening of who one still is as the mortar of stability sets into a concrete objectivity what one will
always have been..?

A universal condom, one size fits all and protects everyone through an impenetrable elasticity forever
keeping the inside there, just there even when it rushes toward an outside which does not exist..?

Because nothing now reaches an outside of our modern age: there is no outside, there is no beyond,
there is only an ever expanding marginalization which makes a place inside for everything – which
incorporates everything into itself and allows for no outside to ever form. The cracks, the breaks, the
striations are what make it work: can you ever “be yourself” without there being two of you?

Yes, that’s me being myself – just there! Ah… and who was that watching you be yourself? Well
they can’t both be you, can they? So what were you watching? Yourself being yourself? What is that
stretching between you and yourself (besides credulity)?

How did you get outside of yourself? Or were you just always inside something else which gives to
you a hollow shell into which to pour yourself – along with everyone else, just as everyone else does,
as the “one” that makes ‘every’ economical (one size fits all)?

Would you instead try to be many, try to be multiple, try to be all of the striations and separations and
breaks and cracks and differences which precede the unique and the original; which give the whole
and the undivided meaning; which is the reality of the encompassing marginalization that thrives
upon our modern myth of the self?

Well, how else could you ever be other than you are?
" The great also make mistakes, and some of them make so many you are almost tempted to think
they were'nt great at all. "
- Georg Christoph Lichtenberg

" The rules of grammar are mere human statutes, which is why when he speaks out of the possessed
the Devil himself speaks bad latin. "
- Georg Christoph Lectenberg

There are those that understand only what the tiniest of mouths can say, and those who have to hear it
so large they must see the words as they pass over there very own heads. Mis-diagnosed data claims
the puppet show who are compfortable dreaming from their cribs. I am speaking to you now, a voice
no ontology or metaphysics can describe. Though we are waiting for the Marxian spark, what did
Proudhon eat on the eve of his death, as he struggled with the idea that anarchists should never be
violent, in his gasp of last breath, did he say, to hell with it boys, pick up your stones. I'm sizing them
out and their minds are not so great. I too have been analyzed ever since I learned you can't carry
your rape around with you forever. There are greater ideas than the processed ones that hover at the
edge of digital bankrupcy, when the focus is cleared, I know exactly what needs to be said, hang on,
there is a slow voice, and it is beggining to dream.

Hegel, there is no master, there is every master who thinks he is, but I wont be negated, I won't be
universal, I wont be " One Dimensional " like Marcuse cries out to the states. You retrieve
something, but it is not what you thought. I am always fighting.
Standing on the edge. Aren't you?
If such things could be expressed through clear, concise logical statements of fact and contingent
propositions of systematic protocol, then, I think that this would have already happened. Some things
are expressed in this way; but, they are not the things of which we are speaking here.

So, what are we speaking of; and, why are we speaking of them in this way which we have chosen?

Well… apparently we humans are endowed with something that we have taken to calling
consciousness; moreover, this consciousness we seem to innately possess seems to be capable of an
awareness of itself. Thus, we often might ask in philosophy: what is this self-consciousness, and what
can we do with it?

A general consensus has arisen that, over and above its other characteristics, this self- consciousness
of which we speak is capable of changing itself into that which it desires to be. Now, this is a very
odd thing, when you think about it: there isn’t anything else we know of that can do this. However,
far from being completely unique in our experience… this is in fact the essence of our experience and
so the very, very wonderful nature of that which we call consciousness (and its immediate derivation,
self-consciousness) can be lost to us – and so, for us - with a painful ease more tragic than mortality
itself.

It isn’t something that can so much be taken from us as it is a thing which we can simply lose,
through a forgetting of what it is that we possess. It is something that we can give away over and
over, throw away in an instant at every moment, and abandon in favor of a mere simulation of its
power and glory and grandeur.

It never goes away, though and it is never exhausted because it is something that we must make
ourselves each and every moment. That takes an effort; that is a work unto itself: and it is so very
easy to allow others to make that effort and to accept their production of what we can be in lieu of our
own efforts to become what we would will ourselves to be.

In the end analysis, it does all come down to various neural pathways through which energy
dissipates as it aligns itself with the laws of thermodynamics. We can demarcate those pathways
ourselves; or we can let others do it for us; or we can take what others have done and modify that for
our own use. And in this we do find what freedom we can achieve as sentient creatures; but we also
find that the laws of thermodynamics, along with the rest of the real, encompass us and our self-
consciousness: so we can make those energy pathways direct and short and defined and efficient and,
as a result, fleeting in their expression; or we can make them robust and variant and multiplicitous,
and so make them persistent and extended. In this respect, there is a compelling necessity toward a
more textured form of expression than simple protocol statements provide: which is not at all to say a
less rigorous form of expression, or a more symbolical and metaphoric form of expression. Indeed,
just what it is that we could best deploy in this endeavor to be what we would make of ourselves is
not in itself a fixed and final determinant; and so the imperative toward a multiplicitous approach is
again confirmed as a basic necessity inherent to the matter at hand.
There was indeed a tendency in some schools of philosophy to try and reduce philosophic thought
into a series of logical statements, and to govern the "truth value" of these statements through the
application of formal rules of logic. I am thinking here primarily of the Anglo-American schools that
rose to prominence in the early to mid 1900's (Bertrand Russell comes to mind). So, when I said 'if it
were possible, it would have already been done' I was thinking of those efforts.

Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari, in "What is pHilosophY?" (English translation 1994), put forward
the idea that philosophy is all about the construction and application of concepts; and that this is in
contrast to the sciences, which employ "functives" as the base composite elements for describing how
things work in the way that they do.

Concepts are characteristically heterogeneous in nature; and, they are governed by rules of both
internal and external consistency. There is only way to understand what a concept is: find out what
went into its construction, and trace how it accordingly interacts with that which it occurs alongside.

What is almost invariably a long, torturous, and convoluted path ensues...

I am going to have a little fun with some analylitical thoughts of Carl Jung.

The process of eating, ( in the oral infantile sexuality ) nutritional orgasm, so to speak, by the act of
suckling with the food, brings us further into the realm of rubbing and burrowing with ones fingers,
those phallic instruments, connected to ancient rites, where rubbing was the process of producing fire
as pure libido, sexual element, phallus fingers invent the incestuos flame, in historical archetypes,
here, because Jung always deals with archetypes and symbols. Is the nutritional sexual stage of eating
the incest of ones parents? Jung doesn't say that. So I will. The biblical tale of three men thrown into
the fire and emerging unscathed, is in fact the sexual trinity, pure coitus, orgasm from ancient
hysteria, this phallic fire causes us much distress. Even in biblical allegory.

All of this could also be reconciled with the cannibalisim of the mother, but that is an enirely
different train of thought.

metaphor for phallic inter-dependance, is a slavish operation. One must be on the patch or devoted to
staying far away from the historical sexual archetypal flame of the pure libido.

(Note: ) This is just poking fun at some of the actual ideas of Carl Jung's anayltical and philosophical
investigation, and should in no way be taken serious as part of my actual views, I am merely
demonstrating the many outrageous areas we can move into through psychoanalysis.
The implosion of the self de-centers it's primary concerns from one form of spectacle to the next.
Wars are the orgasm of the collective indifferent. The very notion, or utopian mechanical society, that
Herbert Marcuse puts foward, is the blue print for the hopelessly hopeful. After all, what is so good
about more time on ones hands. It's just a slower form of losing ones mind. Marcuse says the
technology of our machines should handle the major force of our current labor structure, and
therefore change the course of economy, do away with capitalisim, embrace Platonic ideas to a
certain degree, allow man the minimal time of work, thus more time for contemplation, distribution
of equal needs, since technology, after all, will be producing our surplus.

But the very idea of labor counts on the exploitation of man, as Marcuse himself admits, so how
would one even dream of changing the rational of a rich capitalist system that doesn't care about the
space left to the mind that has been motorized on every factory floor, the machines will aid us, and
surely their technological capacity could do even much more, without us, but it would please no one
to exploit machines, and you would have to assume that the dismantling would occur because our
policy formens care, preposterious.

Even in the final society that is deemed utopian, there will always be something to fetishsize, like the
pornography of information, man will alway need to know something more and more. A gradual
decline of goodwill and eventual boredom will seep into the social psychopathology that has never
left us. I mean, what is a Marxist or anarchist revolution really? Everyone is a social pervert of the
system. It's not that man has no good in him left to offer, it's that he constantly has to fetishize each
object offered to him, eventually turning spectacle into performance. And besides, who would dare
say to Hollywood, " you must dismantle now. " It's like saying to the germans during world war two,
" you must care more for the jew's and the gays. "

Every man formulates his revolution, but as J. G. Ballard says, the only good revolution is the one
that fails. Nothing can deter this globalization. There is one thing, but we are currently at war against
it. A war, by the way, which will last a thousand years. A dream that will sleep until the dawn of the
New World Order. A machine that will only do a half of the job.
The phobic state of wonderment, ( that ceaselessness that re-verses language ) enters into a stage of
confinement repetition that sub-divides all of the ancestrol tendencies towards their more liberal and
incestous negative. Here we have a storage house of organs that produce no music.

Besides this incindiary precursor, there is so much more movement in these emboldened states of
sexual discourse, than the surface reflects. Even if we are entitled to more, we rarely get to see
beyond the affect of the signifiers ' global compass '. This idea of the global compass I have founded,
is the sexual ' nodal point ' of personal sadistic hysteria.

As my aim is to elaborate why some of these darker ' return syndromes ' must be so visual as is
always elaborated through a linguisitic personification of inverse orgasm dynamic.

This say's nothing to the real cretin's who suppose that what they fetishize is certainly more pure.
With them we must wait until they cease acting proper, and become more adjusted to their condition.

However, a fascination with spectacle does not automatically mean we are chasing the ultimate ghost
of contradictions. Psychoanalaysis and philosophy has indeed found it's way into the spectacle, and
certainly any sort of theoretical undertaking must confess itself un-virtuous in the end, when all of it's
technical aims are pre-disposed to the pornography of information. This gathering point where our
burden of proof is to be made has sacrificed more false energy than the simple accomplishment of
singular private thought. Which is still, itself, impeded by the spectacular bombardment of knowing
and un-knowing, proof and unproof, belief and unbelief, so, what will sustain this analytical mind.
Nourishment is not it's goal.

There is always this intention to be reborn.

Answers to this nothing, answers out of a nothing, retained by wit, mass-produced, efficent, polished.
The proposals of modern society are " fetishize your life according to your wallet and youre tastes, if
you don't have tastes we'll provide them for you, we will shape your fetish, market you the perfect
spectacle. "

On this thin horizon there are many isles of escape. A revisionism of marxist and anarchists
doctrines, in other words new proposals. In other words, action to our thoughts. Let us mobilize the
homeless, the true proletariate of the 21st century, give them a reason to rise from rags and storm the
streets, let us diagram a new hopeful error, let us become casualties, new men, from the womb of
american hysteria to the birth of a new dawn.

Old principles apply to the left and the right. Old ideas fester in the minds of radical liberals and
demonizing conservitives, both of which have it wrong. We are the people who formulate a storage
house of the true subversion.

No more introversion of the capital. No more want no more need. Action. Action. Action. The
intregal reality must be upset, must be caused to vomit out it's casuality's.
And besides, our children must have this promise fought for them.
Reversiblity anticipates the others desire. Plugged into the one dimensional, the political culture is a
fashion show of food starved tenants flocking to the flattering death of ideas. Some good substance
resonates like an obscene illusion. Ordinary life is grieved with it's own childhood. Supression builds
upon the disorder of the formulated greivences of triangular thought. Here we notice the development
period stunted by capitalist flows and econimc language, mathmatics taught to the child, to think
scientifically, a good note taker is a good citizen. No hypothesis outside the educational box.

This is the good old critical exhibition of the desert. Personal opinion is on hiatus. The principle of
evil aims for the elsewhere but ends up with the individual. Supported by all the systems of suburban
commonality and subdivided mass, all we want is more advertising.

Our computer systems need more gadgets, our hardware needs up grades, this terryifing dream of
power is gripped by the phenomena of bad intellectuals and philosophical pundunts all grasping for a
singluar system of thought. This religion of science and the meat grinding of theory exhausts the
original traveler who is weary from all the acedemic sideshows that dominate every mode of being.

Here is their remedy: commodify your intelligence. Come work in the lab, come study at the
university, help mold our billboard tommorrow. This hypothetical swarm is a deadly wager,
communications build surplus confusion, identity is drained of all possibilities.
Conditioned to reason there will be no reason. Of truth man must speak only of his pain. Secondary
thoughts will not lift him from the mire.

Spirals of indifferent information brain wash the western mind.

Hysteria ensues.
The young take claim to all that their parents ( those perverts ) taught them.
Distilled paradigms.
What does not seek will be sought by the shadow of the reclaimed and undervalued capital.

Fetishisim of the image dominates the freeway.

Radio messages tune ears to the plastered truth.
one billboard after another.
Plato speaks through a wire shut jaw " The star blows out. "

If a man thinks he knows something it is a loss he is offering unto others.

The revolution cannot be condensed by one word.
What he knows will not be what is said.
He does not know but he will think again.

Do not give him the value he does not understand.

The price of his words are advicating death.
There is no simple thing to know.
Knowing nothing I tell you there is a void.
Unproven. A void cannot be.
I lie.

All men who tell themselves that there is something to learn are after the same illusion.
There is only this " Veil of Maya. "
They have learned nothing.
I have spoken in the same way.
In the existing territories of cognitive commercial thought, whose invasion of images are we after?
What is it, ( pure capital seduction ) that persues us? It is not as if it were an unwanted intrusion on our
part that we are experiencing, this is the repression, and the egg of desire which makes the manifest
darkness unroll within the very heart of commodity exchange.

Let us examine Guattari's Machinic Doping. He has already outlined sadomasochistic doping and
anorexic doping, but this is not all. Sure, we have chemical doping, either machinic or stupidly, this is a
larger philosophical area, but beyond this there is cultural doping, or western doping, product surplus
doping, philosophical doping, this goes on and on. Let us pinpoint something more specific.
Capitalisim as the blockage mechanisim to our machinic addictions. What intrudes the thought
machine, shames the anus machine, and prohibits the phallus machince?

Fear. Fear forces us to try and maintain or arrest our doping process. Here I am breaking from Guattari,
I am not after a micro-revolution over micro-fascisim of the body for the sake of the down fall of
capitalisim, though this will probably happen by accident, if we are lucky, and will no doubt be a
pleasant side effect, but I am rather after the pure enjoyment of the excess of our machinic doping. I
wish to own the dope and purge of impulse and command. To be this body without organs.
Man says to us on all fronts: behave youself accordingly, the machinic contractions of our bodies and
minds tell us something far more sinister: do not allow yourself to be counterfited. This is from de
Sade. I recommend here the area of the arts and philosophy/theory, performance, for our true excessive
outlet.

The outlet that will destroy the capital, but how does this reach every man, some are idiots some are
invalids some are opressed in the tarrying negative work force, prostitution, dealing and maintaining,
where are there true impulses? How unblock them? How jumpstart there radical center?

I speak for my own. In dark territories, the celebratory machinic excess, builds the core pride of
individual abjection. When one continues their counterfiet productions, something spoiled of all
westeren ideology begins to surmount the collected efforts of revolt. This is the area I designate as the '
mimetic decency spiral. ' Those contagious, continue to proliferate their so called desires at the expence
of others. These, of course, are commercialized desires, plastered on every billboard along every
highway and staining the retina of mankind.

How to address a reawakening to wounding and the forming of new body parts? Without castration and
this blank check of medical intervention and mind hypnosis, a rather complete horror of Pataphysics or
language disruption, a dis-jointing, a mounting of the repressive other. Towards transgression, the
metamorphisis of machinic doping into secular defiled gratification, this is where the desperate embark.
Katabasis, Cata, any and all other suffixes of the downward journey, we only give new words to the
moments of commercialized collapse. Nihilate, and entropy. Transgress.