Friday, January 21, 2011

... don't you forget, caught in a trap (it never ends: it's my life!)

"Quite generally, only music, placed beside the world, can give us an idea of what is meant by the justification of the world as an aesthetic phenomenon. The joy aroused by the tragic myth has the same origin as the joyous sensation of dissonance in music. The Dionysian, with its primordial joy experienced even in pain, is the common source of music and tragic myth." (B/T)

Ok. And doesn't S/M also have this queer blending of what Nietzsche calls 'dissonance'--of joy and pain combined to create a new force, or new forces, that is/are (a)rousing?

Thursday, January 20, 2011

I'm back at my cliff, still throwing things off...

J. has a roll of photos on his iPhone that just go and go. They comprise little more than the various facial expressions he has managed to contort the muscles in his cheeks into fashioning, into pressing his lips and brow into the most delightful variations of Surprise! or Ponderous? or Excited... What is fascinating is just how many of this photos there are. It reflects, I think, the sheer joy he felt at the vivid capture of his own image, of his capacity to conjure and capture (fort/da) his own gloriously beautiful face, even when stretched to cast the most obscene and ludicrous visage. I love the nearly inexhaustible narcissism of the gay man, especially when in the throws of his own rapturous auto-transport.

I listened to Bjork's "unison" for the first time in a season. I forgot how formative it was. How reassuring, and how helpful to think about an anti-Christian, joyful, musical ethos ("one hand will love the other"). I'm reading Peter Sloterdijk's _Thinker on Stage: Nietzsche's Materialism_ and it is immensely helpful for through some of the hard knots in _Birth of Tragedy_. More to read tomorrow, but I'm enjoying it. Oh, the vexing question of the spirit of music!

J. and I cruised side by side for the night. We were supposed to see a movie, but instead we just sat next to one another watching, advising, joking, comparing, having fun. It was actually kinda reassuring. I get wildly anxious at idea of him with another guy, though, less so now. It used to be really bad. But it is never as bad as I think it will be. Which is to say: It isn't bad, except in the expectation of its badness. The power of human potentiality, I suppose, lies in precisely the ability to actualize what is imagined (duh, Aristotle says in the _Ethics_, but these days one will be charged with 'voluntarism'!), and this, Freud argues, is evidenced in the analytic setting of projection, transference, and counter-transference. Anyway, we had fun, and we totally have plans for the weekend.

Is ballet Apollonian or Dionysian?

Monday, January 17, 2011

Well, You Needn't

"Return, once again, to the body. Imagine it as a fold of flesh, pressed, like linen, impressed but not creased--an inclination, an arc, a gesture, a fold.
In motion the body turns on points of opposition. Like discus competitors, the body as vortex, winding up and releasing such immense energy.
The unfurling, distending salute: the casting--that which is simultaneously frozen and suspended in the idealization of memory (the Image Repertoire of Barthes's Lover), and that act of casting-away as in a pair of dice.
(The democratic practice par excellence of drawing lots as a queer combination of an abnegation of personal responsibility--no one will choose to lead, but each will submit to fate--and the acceptance of conditional agency once office must be suffered.)"