al rasel on Fri, 15 Dec 2006 22:52:39 +0100 (CET) |
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<nettime> the silent discourse |
The silent discourse. Alkiviadis Rasel alrasel {AT} yahoo.co.uk I What cannot be said must be passed over in silence. For if when I speak I cannot make myself understood, I do not speak even if I keep talking without stop day and night. I.I Silence is therefore the only means of communication. I.I.I What is communicated in silence is obedience, subordination, docility, for these names refer to a single concept ? alienation ? denoting at best different modes of the same principle. What is communicated in silence is negation which confirms what it apprehends as alienated activity, and hence as alienated being, without superseding it either in thought (logically) or in the sensuous activity of real men, in practice. I.II What cannot be said does not exist in thought. I.II.III Or what cannot be said is what is self-conscious (and therefore realised in thought) and for this or that reason must be passed over in silence. In this case the proposition is an ethical statement: its formal grammatical expression ? and therefore logical expression too - is the confession; which is also to say that the confession is the general form of this proposition. - ?The rules of logical syntax must go without saying, once we know how each individual sign signifies?: is this a requirement for one to make a confession? Isn't the creation of concepts part of a confession? "I softly drew to the side to try and see what was happening: Simone really was masturbating...at that moment, I distinctly heard her say: "Father, I still have not confessed the worst sin of all." A few seconds of silence. "The worst sin of all is very simply that I'm tossing off while talking to you." More seconds of whispering inside, and finally almost aloud: "If you don't believe me, I can show you". And indeed, Simon stood up and spread one thigh before the eye of the window while masturbating with a quick, sure hand. "All right, priest" cried Simone, banging away at the confessional, "what are you doing in your shack there? Tossing off, too?" But the confessional kept its peace. "Well, then I'll open". And Simone pulled out the door". If one understands each individual word in the above fragment of text, he may recognise it as meaningless, or simply pornographical. If one understands what I am meaning, he already knows that Simone fucked the priest, and then killed him. For it has nothing to do with this or that priest and this or that Simone. But it follows from the fact that Simone's confession is also her emancipation: not a God-granted catharsis but the rupture that manifests in those rare moments when one dies and is re-born again. I.II.III.I ?The only comprehensible language we have is the language our possessions use together. We would not understand a human language and it would remain ineffectual. From the one side, such a language would be felt to be begging, imploring, and hence humiliating. It could be used only with feelings of debasement. From the other side, it would be received as impertinence or insanity and so rejected. We are so estranged from our human essence that the direct language of man strikes us as a violation of human dignity, whereas the estranged language of objective values appears as the justified assertion of human dignity that is self-confident and conscious of itself.? The poverty of language is brilliantly encapsulated in the contradictory proposition money talks, in the language of poverty itself. For it implies that an inhuman medium emulates man's vital functions, possesses properties inherent in living beings, and therefore one should be economical with what they say, with the words uttered out of their mouth, as if the use of logos would deprecate its value. I.I.I ?Silence is therefore the only means of communication [for] the King would be unwise to encourage his subjects in their idle talk, they would not be able to control a race of people who talked?. Some people do not want us to speak. And as we speak, measures are being taken to silence us, for our oath to the imaginary god we have erected presupposes our silent obedience. Let the masks fall. Why is it so impossible to say that there is something terribly wrong with the world today, as if nobody would understand? Exactly because everybody would understand. Exactly because the proposition could not be refuted. That is why they do not want us to talk about what is possible, but only direct the discussion to the despicable means available to this enterprise, as they regard man as a liability, or rather they point to the various contingent events that demand our immediate attention, remarking that utopian talks should not mesmerise our wise judgement away from institutional solutions. What they fail to realise is that the discussion, on both sides, inevitably leads to a confrontation on the plane of institutional immanence: the discourse speaking of institutional solutions admits that minor changes in input can have a dramatic change in output. And this is so very much true. An example of such an institutional solution would be the strict enforcement of fines for anyone not having a valid ticket on the entrance to the subway as a means to curb crime in the premises (M. Gladwell, The Tipping Point), or the elimination of tax deductions for advertising as a means to alleviate the pains of consumer culture (Heath & Potter, Rebel Sell). Both these fixes may well bring about the desired results. However, beyond this point of agreement and the common space constituted by the statements that are possible to enunciate, this discourse on institutions branches out into two discourses, or rather is split into two discourses, and those two different discourses flow back into the first, as if everything were in flux, and the only constant point of reference remains the proposition the institution works, it is not the institution itself that is questioned here, only a few individuals within the bounds of the institution are dysfunctional (ie. Corrupt), and therefore should be penalised (ie. ostracised, or forced into rehabilitation programmes). But the institution cannot be held responsible for the actions of individuals. Upon first glance it may seem as a perfectly logical proposition, that is, one that follows from logical investigation and can thus be verified logically (proven in actuality). However, experience exposes the above proposition for what it essentially is: a contradiction. For what appears exists, but what exists and is thus real need not be rational: for the above statement exists, is therefore real, that is, was enunciated in the past, and may be (or not) enunciated again in the future (the conditions that determine this possibility are a discussion too long and serious to be dealt with here). Yet, the fact that this statement was enunciated in a particular time and space does not render it rational; and in this case neither true: for truth is the correspondence of language to reality. And in this case, reality says otherwise. Consider, for example, the famous 1963 Milgram experiment which demonstrated that any individual is most likely to harm another individual, even enjoy it, so long as someone in authority asks them to so do. ?The legal and philosophic aspects of obedience are of enormous importance, but they say very little about how most people behave in concrete situations. I set up a simple experiment at Yale University to test how much pain an ordinary citizen would inflict on another person simply because he was ordered to by an experimental scientist. Stark authority was pitted against the subjects' [participants'] strongest moral imperatives against hurting others, and, with the subjects' [participants'] ears ringing with the screams of the victims, authority won more often than not. The extreme willingness of adults to go to almost any lengths on the command of an authority constitutes the chief finding of the study and the fact most urgently demanding explanation.?(S. Milgram, The Perils of Obedience). How should this be interpreted? Perhaps one further example will prove useful. Consider the equally famous 1971 Stanford prison experiment where a group of students - volunteers was taken blindfolded to an underground prison, and split into two groups, one consisting of prisoners, the other of their guards, in order to study the actual behaviour of normal, ordinary people in the institutional setting of a prison. The experiment quickly got out of control, as the former guards were so overzealous in the administration of their newly assigned tasks that even themselves were shocked by their own brutality; they could not explain their behaviour on any grounds other than sadism and intrinsic badness, which, of course, nobody wants to admit. On precisely these grounds, it is right to say that a person can be lovely as an individual, to love the kids, to treat everybody kindly and respectfully, to care for the common good, and be absolutely monstrous in his institutional role, suppress and torture other human beings, and even withdraw pleasure from such acts of unspeakable brutality, because the institutional role thus commands. But we should not interpret this as meaning that, despite her long and strenuous historical development, human nature is inherently faulty, if not downright mean and barbaric, and therefore there is no point in trying to make the beauty of human essence shine forth to the fore, emancipate humanity from artificial structures erected by man to serve him but ultimately keeping him in bondage. Human nature, human life, manifests her glory even under the poorest and most inhumane conditions, or especially under those conditions that force man to return to what is basic and essential. These experiments do not show that the human being is a repressed sadistic bomb waiting for the right chance to explode; what it shows is the tremendous effect that institutional design and structure has on the human being. For it is not consciousness that creates and effaces institutions at the whim of its will - as they would like us to believe - but rather institutions (social existence) that determine consciousness. It's high time we started speaking. And it's high time we started speaking about institutions. For it is from there that we should start. But where we meet there exist no institutions. And for this reason, it is only there that communication can be free, or for this is the same, free communication is possible. # distributed via <nettime>: no commercial use without permission # <nettime> is a moderated mailing list for net criticism, # collaborative text filtering and cultural politics of the nets # more info: majordomo@bbs.thing.net and "info nettime-l" in the msg body # archive: http://www.nettime.org contact: nettime@bbs.thing.net