A Field Guide to Getting the Lost Art of Unrecovery (part five)

Filed under:UnRecovery — posted by Schizostroller on July 31, 2018 @ 7:06 am

Unrecovery Reprise
But then let us read about anti-language as well as psychoanalytic interpretations of word salads, as they CAN be broken down and made sense of, think of the purpose of the vernacular, of Cockney Rhyming slang, the Polari of Carry On films, or the slang in Hip hop after reading Henry Louis Gates Junior’s Signifying Monkey, then skat like a jazz singer, read Lefebvre’s Production of Space and think of the spatial archaeology of one’s own knowledge base and learn to surf the signifiers of the linguistic architecture. Think of whether we can ever elude control? Think of the deliberate obfuscation of Deleuze and Guattari. Think Sokal and postmodern nonsense , but then think of Lewis Carroll and the Jabberwocky. Mathemes were never supposed to be mathematical.

Apophenic low theory narrative example #2

“A different Carroll, Peter Carroll, set up the Illuminates of Thanateros and like Dion Fortune and her book on psychic protection, the early learning path is to write a banishing ritual. To join the order one sends off one’s banishing ritual to be examined. But only a fool sends off their best ritual. However, before he committed suicide Ian Curtis of Joy Division wrote a song ‘She’s Lost Control’ but what do we do in the Society of Control as described by Gilles Deleuze once all are secrets are gone. Or as George Clinton sung in the early Doo Wop group The Parliaments, ‘All your goodies are gone’ the very thing that happened to Prince Gronniosaw of the Kingdom of Zaara, like Caliban, gave up his gold chains to the white merchant in exchange for that talking book, the Bible. When you’ve given it away like the Red Hot Chili Peppers, managed as they are by Louise Mensch’s partner, she of the Starbucks fallacy, the white slave trader’s wife. You rewrite history, again and again and again and again. You write beyond the pleasure principle. As the Chosen Brothers sing on a Rhythm and Sound Burial Mix riddim, ‘Making History’. The secret technology of the Voodoo Ray, not microwave ray guns and tin foil hat specious put downs (forgetting that conspiracy theories on the Illuminati stem from pro-Monarchist supporters of the sovereign will, French versions of either Hobbes or Filmer). Or as the Scots say it’s Oor Mad History cognisant of the Dialectic of the Enlightenment.
Apophenia can be a skill to be mastered, an embodied one at that. Yes, the artist does it more economically productively, or at least the commercial ones, but then we have the autonomist’s refusal of work, what is a greater refusal of work than the schizophrenic refusing to do the abusive Master Signifier’s logical work and stop making sense. This is where mental health recovery can be a form of biopolitics. It isn’t that we don’t want psychotics to feel more joy… We do! We do! It is just that the normalisation game is a game of capture in the name of observance and abeyance to a hegemony. There is a legitimation crisis after any economic crisis, with austerity the logic behind the cuts wasn’t just at the level of economics but ideology too. But the artist needs to ask whether and where art is complicit in capitalist exploitation, and how we may never achieve an ideal economics, in the way that the S&M Dominatrix’ ‘edging’ will never achieve the full Deleuze and Guattari schizophrenic. The arc will never reach the inside of the circumference. One needs to know the feeling of rolling the car on the bend to recognise that feeling when you reach a limit. JG Ballard’s Crash. Rather than the psychogeographer’s derive, the rice burner’s drifting, throughout all seven Fast and Furious franchises, Mad Max: Fury Road like the Gulf War never happened, flaming guitars, poetry and all. And then! Let us make that edging sensation an art of life. Subspace as China Mieville’s Immer, waking dream with ice cream scream. Like the Brethren of the Free Spirit sinning their way to heaven and getting slaughtered every weekend in the crap towns of Britain. Towns so crap that the jealous sub-dwellers of the urban psychic undertow (that fuels Britain more than anyone, even in mental health services, cares to admit) demanded more volumes be produced so that their towns could be included in the glorious roster of crap as well, returning the gift. A punk Gnostic refusal of the top-down nature of the symbolic law in everyday life. ASBOs, CTOs and a fuck you too. The Common Knowledge imaginary sneaking potshots via vacuole wormholes at the Master Signifier. We have no Bibliothèque here, we burn our idols like they burned the Alexandrian library; Goths, Vandals and other signifier surfing no-mads of the edgelands of the Bardo. In the film Finding Nemo, the fish get caught up in a dragnet, the shoal of cod seem to have what Nietzsche called a herd mentality, voting for their own austerity. They manage to escape this time as Nemo learnt that they need to keep on swimming down, just as Daedalus taught Theseus how to find the minotaur, and encouraging the cod with this information Nemo uses the critical mass of the cod collective to break the trawler’s net and escape. Knossos itself is often acknowledged as being the labyrinth, the city itself, rather than the unconscious seething somewhere below this first city. Daedalus gave two bits of advice to Theseus before he left Athens: One don’t do anything anybody tells you to do. Two, to find the minotaur keep going down. Of course, Theseus needed the narrative thread of Ariadne to return. But it was Dionysius, the mad god of the Eleusinian Mysteries, running the show as the Ring Master, in his mother, Demeter, goddess of the abundant harvest, the cornucopia, the horn of plenty’s name (“Your mum!”) who ultimately settled down with Ariadne after the depressive Theseus abandoned her when he got home to found the great and historic Athenian demos.”

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image: detail of installation by Bronwyn Lace