Friday, 23 June 2017

the non‐existing pure Gaze of the big Other…is the gaze for which, on ancient Roman aqueducts, the details were carved on the reliefs at the top, invisible to any human eye; the gaze for which the ancient Incas made their gigantic drawings out of stones whose form could be seen only from high up in the air; the gaze for which the Stalinists organized their gigantic public spectacles.

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“The objet a is … of the subject’s desire … it is not simply an objective property of the beloved—that X which fascinates me in the beloved exists only for me, not for an “objective” view. … the status of that which makes me desire an object is irreducibly linked to my “subjective” perspective … far from simply standing for the excess in the object eluding the subject’s grasp, the objet a is … his or her desire for me … what eludes me in a libidinal object is not some transcendent property, but the inscription into it of my own desire … in desire … the aspiration to fullness is transferred to partial objects … the drive is not an infinite longing for the Thing,” not the getting “fixated onto a partial object—the “drive” is this fixation itself in which resides the “death” dimension of every drive,” Zizek says

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Wednesday, 21 June 2017

Thursday, 8 June 2017

Hysteria is questioning the identity imposed.

http://twitter.com/extimacy/status/864031417067593728 http://ift.tt/2r7nUjG

deprived of my symbolic identity, I am no one’s and nameless.

http://twitter.com/extimacy/status/863666474602434560 http://ift.tt/2sjS1nC

Friday, 2 June 2017

Today, the old joke more appropriate then ever: I am such a tender person that I cannot stand seeing people suffering

http://twitter.com/extimacy/status/859677702449659904 http://ift.tt/2rAWwcI

such traumatic encounters, such penetrations into the forbidden or damned domain, in Antigone , are called ate , and can only be sustained for a brief moment. These authentic moments are rare; one can only survive them if one soon returns to the safe domain of semblances—truth is too painful to be sustained for more than a passing moment. At other times (especially in his ruminations about the symptom towards the end of his life), Lacan adopts the opposite (but effectively complementary) attitude of wisdom: the analyst never knows what will happen when he pushes analysis too far and dissolves the analysand’s symptoms too radically—one can get more than one expected, a local interpretive intervention into a particular symptomal formation can destabilize the subject’s entire symbolic economy and bring about a catastrophic disintegration of his world. The analyst should thus remain modest and respect appearances without taking them too seriously; they are ultimately all we have, all that stands between us and the catastrophe. It is easy to see how these two stances complement each other: they rely on a (rather Heideggerian) image of human life as a continuous dwelling in “inauthentic” semblances, interrupted from time to time by violent encounters with the Real. (What this entire field encompassing the two stances excludes is the Christian “work of love,” the patient work of continuous fidelity to the encounter with the Real.) This modest approach of merely “making life a little bit easier,” of diminishing suffering and pain, forgetting about capitalized Truth, makes the late Lacan almost a Rortyan

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