Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Go On Just Say It (or: Re-turning again)

You need me like a bad habit,
One that leaves you defenseless, dependent, and alone.
... Live up to your first impression
Well my best side was your worst invention
Why can't you live without the attention?

The idea of returning to school is somewhat daunting. I recently saw a one-time classmate who noted that I seemed to be consistently on-point when in class. I wonder about this. When out with Matthias I expressed my anxiety that after so much output I will run out of things worth saying. Much like Zizek, who can't help but repeating himself endlessly (it is next to impossible to not find fully cut-and-pasted paragraphs in any given collection). That is, I fear being a one-trick pony.

In reflecting on the discussions I've had Matthias, somewhat tongue-in-cheek, called me half-autistic because I will inevitably redirect whatever conversation I'm engaged in to topics/thinkers/texts I'm familiar with. This practice, of course, is not a matter of autism, but rather anxiety. My profound paranoia that I will miss-step in conversation leads, Matthias rightly observes, to an endless return to the comfortable folds of texts I've read.

No doubt this tendency has been amplified by my hiatus from the academy, which, coupled with my poverty induced decision to read all the books I own but hadn't read, has meant that the arguments I make and the sources I reference are those I've been making for 2+ years. Which is to say, I'm somewhat happy to think that once I'm back in the saddle, reading 1500 pgs a week again I will be stimulated anew; inspired.
"This is a .44 caliber love-letter straight from my heart":
When in NYC Sokrates asked me what I would do when I successfully surpass my "rabbit" (Judith Butler). I would say, well, then once I am the best I would only have myself to overcome. Linked to this question was an implicit critique of my fatalistic Lacanian moment--an affirmation of jouissance in my defense of barebacking: what do you do when you catch the bug? This lead to a sustained conversation about fetish versus fantasy. I suppose this is why I need, as it were, to find my "Wendy Brown". To have my work and my love overlap in powerfully stimulating ways (as I fantasize theirs does).

I joke that I need a daddy for this summer before I get my "real" daddy--the university. In true Platonic fashion, the sex is sublimated into intellectual pursuits. And, it's strange that I managed to successfully sublimate for almost a whole year (with the single exception of my first foray with the German). But, isn't it necessary, sublimation? The real challenge, no doubt, will be not to expiate my will to power in this brilliantly seductive ghetto.

And then, all of this makes me wonder if I actually want a lover while I am in school. More likely, what I will want is what I want now: a brilliant distraction while I am allowed to fully inhabit my body, to simply be body.

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