Meanwhile, by 2000 the average married couple with children was working almost five hundred hours a year more than in 1979. [ … ] By 1991 the amount of goods and services produced for each hour of labor was double what it had been in 1948. By 2006 that figure had risen another 30 percent. [ … ] if as a society we made a collective decision to get by on the amount we produced and consumed seventeen years ago, we could cut back from the standard forty-hour week to 5.3 hours per day—or 2.7 hours if we were willing to return to the 1948 level.
Royal Holloway University of London, 801.95
Imagine a radical movement which had suffered an emphatic defeat. Worse is to follow. It is disease that makes health sweet and good. It is precisely because creatures are incomplete that they are living.
Language takes precedence. It chases its own tail. It was parodic, and aimed sharply and polemically against the official languages of its time.
There is no question of a fixed, historically immutable relationship here. The lynch-pin of the teaching of Heraclitus, as it has come down to us, is the idea of unity in opposites.
Every man’s life my be best written by himself. As he reads, there is a constant ‘feedback’ of ‘information’ already received, so that he himself is bound to insert his own ideas into the process of communication. You cannot pass this by, nor escape its force. All great writers want to become like Faust.
The commodity, pace Adorno, cannot be its own ideology, at least not yet. So one could preserve one’s ontology without the embarassment of having to pretend that there was nothing to choose between Goethe and Goebbels. The nature of this duplication is essential for an understanding of irony.
The objects are too dissimilar. ‘To generalize is to be an idiot’, but not to draw conclusions from experience is to be something of a fool.
From February 4th to the 12th, I’ll be in the UK.
Most of the time, I’m staying close to London, for a couple of days though I’m going up to Edinburgh.
Perhaps there’s opportunity for offline off-continent communication (in the real world!)
>>Who built Thebes of the seven gates?
In the books you will find the names of kings.
Did the kings haul up the lumps of rock?
And Babylon, many times demolished
Who raised it up so many times? In what houses
of gold-glittering Lima did the builders live?
Where, the evening that the Wall of China was finished
Did the masons go? Great Rome
Is full of triumphal arches. Who erected them? Over whom
Did the Caesars triumph? Had Byzantium, much praised in song
Only palaces for its inhabitants? Even in fabled Atlantis
The night the ocean engulfed it
The drowning still bawled for their slaves.
The young Alexander conquered India.
Was he alone?
Caesar beat the Gauls.
Did he not have even a cook with him?
Philip of Spain wept when his armada
Went down. Was he the only one to weep?
Frederick the Second won the Seven Year’s War. Who
Else won it?
Every page a victory.
Who cooked the feast for the victors?
Every ten years a great man?
Who paid the bill?
So many reports.
So many questions.<< Brecht again.
Going to Space or Making Communism first?
Oona Leganovic as Ijon Tichy
Daniel Kulla as Captain Kathryn Janeway
Live at the 24th Chaos Communication Congress, Berlin
Dec 29, 2007
Moral politics regards the pop culture hype around prostitution and drug trade as a sign of decay and watch it in horror because they cannot relate the phenomenon to their picture of good old free market economy. Moral communists only see and hear the final phase of late capitalism, the cultural breakdown signalling the total collapse of bourgeois society.
Discordian Communists see capitalism in full effect and have no idea why it still shouldn’t at least sound good.
Without an invitation
We have come
700 (and many more are on the way)
From all over, where the wind no longer blows
From the treadmills, which grind slowly, and
From the ovens, behind which, it is said
Not even a dog remains.
And we have seen thee
All of a sudden, the night long
Yesterday thou wert not there
Thou art the only one.
Come, hurry, ye!
Ye who saw the branch on which ye sit
God has descended again
In the form of an oil tanker.
Thou, the repulsive one
Exercise force over us
Thou, the objective one!
Snuff out our ego!
Make a community out of us!
Then, not as we want:
Rather, as thou wilt.
Thou art not made of ivory
And of ebony, but of
Wonderful! Wonderful! Wonderful!
Thou, the unprepossessing one.
Thou art not an invisible one
Nor art thou infinite!
On the other hand, seven metres high
There are no secrets in thee
Rather, there is oil,
And thou dealest with us
Not discretely, nor unfathomably
But with calculation.
What is grass for thee?
Thou sittest on it.
Where, formerly, there was grass
There thou sittest now, oil tanker!
And for thee an emotion is
Therefore listen to our prayer
And deliver us from evil.
In the name of electrification
And of progress and statistics!<< Bertolt Brecht, ca. 1926.
And just for once spare me the instant reflex that makes so many people say “Iraq” within five seconds after reading just the title line.
>>Wesley: I had forgotten that Aztec culture was so violent.
Gunn: Yeah, cuz our culture is so at peace.<< Angel: The Cautionary Tale of Numero Cinco.