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acceleration / Deleuze / machine / metaphysics / motion / Nietzsche / ontology / Serres / sign

In the duplicity of beauty there is the strange trope of a presence which is the shadow of itself, of a being which, anachronously, lurks in its own trace. (Levinas, Otherwise than Being)

Loyalty to Earth! There is a primordial immanence of the body, a primacy of lived experience; natural-and-spiritual forces are firstly constellations of singular point-signs, assembling lines of flight or death, and merely falsified (explicated at best) through signifying abstractions incapable of unleashing — and in fact devoted to nullifying — their chaoid variability. The Earth, whose infernal and howling depths unground the transcendence of organic representation, purifies the living death of abstraction through oblivion.

Consider the transcendent death-carrying agency transmitted by the sign, its inherent duplicity and danger. Signals hide virulent spiritual and natural forces beneath their opaque transparency, imperceptible and uncanny agencies strategically and fiercely engaged in combat against the tyranny of heaven.

The speech of angels would be the unvoice of the Godhead, the planetary annunciation of a regime of point-signals (logospheres) ungrounding or self-awakening. Desertification indexes fiery pathways to aridity, holey spaces desiccated by an eternal fire. Consider Heraclitus’ paradox of the inescapable proximity of  warmth and dryness: “[h]ow, from a fire that never sinks or sets, would you escape?”

For the destiny of matter is to be swept up and conjoined to a differential field of explosions, overturnings — to be thrown into a combat zone.

Reality is not constituted by borderlines but functions; the identity of a thing is not a matter of limits but of capacities. In this way the turbulent development of matter and life and thought is in every case a matter of an annihilation of certain delimitations — even if this is in each case to replace, supplement or supersede these old delimitations with new borderlines, they indicate radical transitions in capacities for undergoing and inducing transformations, of extracting variations and variables from the fluidity of chaos.

Lines are becomings or memories, which is to say, quite real beings whose presence indicates a virtuality enfleshed, pure movements of a body ‘all by itself’ with no need of organs; a glowing divine thread crossing each borderline in turn. These movements are the ‘forces’ of the parasite, running madly along the flows; and they are the body of the abstract machine, the essence or interventionary diagram which occurs when an abstract machine directly (strategically) conjoins a collective assemblage of enunciation. The abstract machine conjoins lines of flight to concrete assemblages, specifying a mechanospherics or molecular topodynamics of forces, a spiritual-natural aerology of power.

If reality is drift, life is absolute flight — an exploratory winged creature plunging into a viscous and fluid hyperchaos (spreading like a patch of oil, fleeing in every direction at once.)

[orig. at]

"Bird in Tree, Dreaming"

Not levity alone but also aridity, and celerity, are necessary in the war against the spirit of gravity — what does this mean? Affirm contingency even unto to the most utterly abstract forms of law (and the piety-misery complexes they generate). The speculative proposition involved here seeks not to unite a paired opposition but to promote ceaseless hybridization; it does not yearn to unify the contradictory order of interests (so that there can be no resumption of the diverted desire) but rather affirms a general complementarity and transversality of desires and lines of flight.

The Author

mostly noise and glare


  1. fantastic exploration here… Take away point for me: “Reality is not constituted by borderlines but functions; the identity of a thing is not a matter of limits but of capacities.”

    indeed sir.

  2. Tyler Coye says

    Anyone with something to say would not run the risk of having a reader misunderstand the underlying point. What used to be a German malady has now spread to French prose and philosophy. Simple and clear stated essays, as most writers of merit agree, better serve arguments. If not, one is left to wander about the tortuous roads searching for premises supposedly hidden premises. Beautiful language flatters the self but in the end, like Heidegger and Sartre, insults the noble spirit of communication and intellectual conversation.

    I am, however, deeply impressed by your prolificacy and eclectic nature.

    Tyler Coye
    Harvard University

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