In Derrida’s documentary, where his life itself is deconstructed, he mentions the idea of ‘circumfession…so that people think they finally recognize me.’ A secret, he reminds us, is never at home.

http://wordsmith.org/words/limen.html

here is a ghost story.

thank you friend. i know you probably wonder if i’m really writing or just fucking myself up like when we were hanging out. i am doing better, but it’s not so much about the writing, it’s something like i’m finally feeling. but less numbness makes for more head(heart)aches and i feel like something raw without all that thick lizard skin which I had gotten so good at growing. anyway, maybe you would even be a little proud.

brief interview man who likes to bring women back to his apartment and carefully systematically build to a point in which he asks her if he can tie her up… mentions his process of chicken-sexing… he says in poultry industry specifically New Zealand this is a something done by one with some sixth sense that is unteachable and unexplained. But they know if a chick is a cock or a hen just by being there…this is the skill he seems to have with women..he knows if they are ‘willing to play’ so to say, making them a hen as opposed to a cock. Powerplay a la my look up look down story and then in the end he collapses into their arms crying like a baby…the profound climax occurring when he asks Are you frightened?

from p. 114 of wallace’s brief interviews with hideous men: “This is the moment of truth. The entire ritual – perhaps ceremony would be better, more evocative, because we – of course the whole thing from proposal onward is about ceremony – and the climax is the subject’s response to this prompt. To Are you frightened? What is required is a twin acknowledgment. She is to acknowledge that she is wholly in my power at this moment. And she must also say she trusts me. She must acknowledge that she is not afraid I will betray or abuse the power I’ve been ceded. The excitement is at its absolute peak during this interchange, reaching a sustained climax which persists for exactly as long as it takes me to extract these assurances from her.”

wow i’ve met you so many times.

i think i have written more today than i have in the last two months. and i also feel that i should find some way to stay up for as long as it takes to get all this down onto paper. and also i think that i am probably being a little weird and should refrain from interactions with others until this passes. and also i think i am very susceptible to moon fever.

“Lacan calls the specular image “orthopaedic” as it leads the child to anticipate the overcoming of its “real specific prematurity of birth”. The vision of the body as integrated and contained, in opposition to the child’s actual experience of motor incapacity and the sense of its body as fragmented, induces a movement from “insufficiency to anticipation”.[10] In other words, the mirror image initiates and then aids, like a crutch, the process of the formation of an integrated sense of self.

In the Mirror stage a misunderstanding – “méconnaissance” – constitutes the Ego—the ‘moi’ becomes alienated from itself through the introduction of an imaginary dimension to the subject. It must be said that the mirror stage also has a significant symbolic dimension. The Symbolic order is present in the figure of the adult who is carrying the infant: the moment after the subject has jubilantly assumed his image as his own, he turns his head towards this adult who represents the big Other, as if to call on him to ratify this image.” from an article on le stade du miroir in Lacanian theory, posted on Wikipedia 2010.

were you just wondering what it was i wanted?

the strangest part is that i feel that i know this feeling, that i’ve always known this feeling, this feeling like you hear a gunshot and know that it’s happened, but you look down and continue to do what you’re doing and ignore it.

“I am stunned, but I want to be stunned, since I have sworn to you, my soul, to trust you even if you lead me to madness…Help me so that I do not choke on my own knowledge.” Carl Jung, The Red Book