First a nanotexts blog then a parasites blog this is now a space for all English classes combined; my own goddamned personal asylum to experiment with this language that I seem to enjoy so much. I couldn't think of a clever name.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
double up.
Listen to this song when you read this blog. I listened to it while I was writing it. It asks the question that I want to ask. It doubles back on itself as I will double back on myself before your eyes right now. The song itself is a classic love story. Guy likes girl, but can't find the words to tell her. how can he say what countless others have already better stated? In the background of the song, we also have this great, echoing "yada yada yada."
“Why should I say
what’s already been said
better a hundred times before?”
“ya-daaaaa”
Somebody once said:
“Fuck this noise”
Well I say, fuck that. The only people that get to complain about things are the people who can do something, but have to question whether or not it’s morally correct. And I honestly do not think that’s the case here. If you can do something about it, and it’s morally correct, then go do it. If you can’t do anything, complaining won’t help. Shut up. Soldiers get to complain, so do murders and prostitutes. College students? rarely. Unless of course we just want to express disgust towards something, but leave it alone so that we’ll always have something to be disgusted with. Do we need that? Maybe, but do we really have to leave old things alone to mix and fester with the new?
Q: “Does he not see the hypocrisy?”
A: I see the hypocrisy that you see, that you so kindly took a photograph of, but when I look for it; it runs, hides, and shits itself. Really.
Some set of people I vaguely know joined a face book group the other day called something along the lines of “I’m only friends with the weird kid so he spares me when he snaps.” The first thing I thought was, “well if he sees this, your brilliant plan is foiled!”
But then I thought, I can’t complain about this.
You say:
“I'm not asked to coffee
I'm not challenged by you
I'm not asked to coffee
I'm not asked to coffee”
Well then I say:
I’m not challenged by you
I’m not challenged by you
I’m not asked to coffee
I’m not challenged by you.
By mirroring the quote, I try to balance it, to give a clearer picture of how we can interact with other ideas. In a simple sense, we can either fight them or work with them. To "ask to coffee" (as often as it's used) is the offer to collaborate. To challenge is the honorable way to begin a battle. I think we need a bit of both if we want to get the most out of ourselves.
But as luck would have it, I am challenged by Joe, somewhat at least. He doesn’t ask me to coffee, but that’s fine. And then I do find myself wondering at the placement and repetition of those two phrases. Then I decide how it looks when I take off my glasses and that’s what I come up with.
“damn! that is some stuff” And then I laugh to myself at how people can say something without actually saying anything. And then I laugh again because it happens all the time. Then I double over on myself and start to cry because I am, of course, laughing at myself. We just want to be careful that we don’t become the eight-ball, and if we become the eight-ball, we better really fucking pray that “ask again later” doesn’t come up too often.
So then I have to try and challenge you back right? You challenge me sir and must answer.
“If you can bring them up--and there are more--in the conversation, you get bonus points. That is-- you get intellectual recognition. You're listened to, you're perceived, you're on-it. Which is kind of laughable. A person can hide behind big words and small parasites”
I would tend to agree with you but I hope you don’t think that this is the case for the class you are writing this for, for the class that you give examples for. If you don’t give us any credit of having any real intelligence, at least give some to Tony. Also, aren’t there usually reasons that these “buzzwords” are around? Aren’t they more relevant then say, describing your standards to make-out with someone at a party? Again, I fold in one myself, but a little bit less than the last time.
There most likely is a selfish reason for everything we do, but still we aspire to something more. Just, try not to write this off right away ok?
So why should we say what's already been said? Because old words can get new meaning. Now go out and get the girl.
If you wonder about all this, listen to the song again. I’m not kidding.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
still pushing them parasites...
I made it to the Olympics last weekend. It was something else, and now I feel the need to describe it. Originally a buddy from high school and I were planning on seeing three events: the luge, the ski jump, and the biathlon. For some reason, that turned into alpine skiing and the luge. Alpine skiing was postponed. All we saw was the luge. Three events down to one, so I was a little disappointing right off the bat. The Olympics were heavy. I don’t know how else to describe them; actually, that’s not true. The Olympics were messy, The Olympics were getting places too early, The Olympics were exhaustion, the Olympics were unbelievable amounts of people, the Olympics were consumption, and last, and definitely least, the Olympics were athletics. All in all it was a hell of an experience, and it’s not one I’ll be able to repeat anytime soon, even if I really wanted to.
The implications of the Olympics being a parasite are obvious –we already heard in class about one of the programs being cut to fund it. But every city wants to host the Olympics. It must be one of those socially desirable parasites. A parasite queen that summons hordes of innocents, only to send them on their way with souvenirs and autographs, “hey, I wish the Olympics would come to our town.” Whatever, it’s still not a big deal. Cash flows in, cash flows out; the parasite spends our money (or is it its money?) and then makes us/it some money.
Does age and repetition disguise the parasite? Master Serres (my go to expert on all things parasite, aside from Tony) us that noise must not be continuous to continue to be a parasite, but what about rhythms? What about the regular that is also irregular? I’m thinking of things like traffic, alarms, speech, echoes. It would be pretty tough to completely oust the Olympics, but they’re only around once every four years per variety. Traffic (mostly) goes away at night, or when you get out of town. Alarms get turned off. A parasite that hides in crowds, that blends in? Again, Serres is my guide.
“He becomes invisible by making, on the contrary, a lot of noise. One can hide by being too visible or too perceptible. The parasite hides behind the noise and to-do of the devout.”
What we are getting into here, I feel, is the idea of hiding in plain sight. This is how the socially desirable parasite must operate. There is an important distinction between invisible, that of the un-desirable parasite, and unrecognizable, that of the desirable parasite. The socially desirable parasite must be uncanny, and the uncanny must be, will be, visible. It cannot be invisible, lest the observations of its uncanniness become impossible to make. Furthermore, when the undesirable parasite becomes visible, it will cease to be a parasite. The socially desirable parasite can remain a parasite visible, but would fail if it became invisible (no longer socially desirable)
Then there’s the fever, the parasite is not the fever itself, but that which causes the fever. Here we find another difference between the interaction of different parasites and their hosts. The undesirable parasite will try to get its eating done without making a sound –without causing a fever. If this occurs, the parasite must flee, to remain invisible, or it will fail. A socially desirable parasite also causes the parasite, but then it disguises itself as the cure. “Fever” or “frenzy” are both words used to describe something that is inexplicably desirable. “I’ve caught the iPad fever” “tourists are in a frenzy to get to Vancouver”. We know that the fever is a defense mechanism of the host, but the parasite, as it has before, and will continue to do in the future, has invented, and reinvented itself, in order to make use of this as well
The implications of the Olympics being a parasite are obvious –we already heard in class about one of the programs being cut to fund it. But every city wants to host the Olympics. It must be one of those socially desirable parasites. A parasite queen that summons hordes of innocents, only to send them on their way with souvenirs and autographs, “hey, I wish the Olympics would come to our town.” Whatever, it’s still not a big deal. Cash flows in, cash flows out; the parasite spends our money (or is it its money?) and then makes us/it some money.
Does age and repetition disguise the parasite? Master Serres (my go to expert on all things parasite, aside from Tony) us that noise must not be continuous to continue to be a parasite, but what about rhythms? What about the regular that is also irregular? I’m thinking of things like traffic, alarms, speech, echoes. It would be pretty tough to completely oust the Olympics, but they’re only around once every four years per variety. Traffic (mostly) goes away at night, or when you get out of town. Alarms get turned off. A parasite that hides in crowds, that blends in? Again, Serres is my guide.
“He becomes invisible by making, on the contrary, a lot of noise. One can hide by being too visible or too perceptible. The parasite hides behind the noise and to-do of the devout.”
What we are getting into here, I feel, is the idea of hiding in plain sight. This is how the socially desirable parasite must operate. There is an important distinction between invisible, that of the un-desirable parasite, and unrecognizable, that of the desirable parasite. The socially desirable parasite must be uncanny, and the uncanny must be, will be, visible. It cannot be invisible, lest the observations of its uncanniness become impossible to make. Furthermore, when the undesirable parasite becomes visible, it will cease to be a parasite. The socially desirable parasite can remain a parasite visible, but would fail if it became invisible (no longer socially desirable)
Then there’s the fever, the parasite is not the fever itself, but that which causes the fever. Here we find another difference between the interaction of different parasites and their hosts. The undesirable parasite will try to get its eating done without making a sound –without causing a fever. If this occurs, the parasite must flee, to remain invisible, or it will fail. A socially desirable parasite also causes the parasite, but then it disguises itself as the cure. “Fever” or “frenzy” are both words used to describe something that is inexplicably desirable. “I’ve caught the iPad fever” “tourists are in a frenzy to get to Vancouver”. We know that the fever is a defense mechanism of the host, but the parasite, as it has before, and will continue to do in the future, has invented, and reinvented itself, in order to make use of this as well
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
ugly rat stopped dead in its tracks.
“Imagine if you will a world where women, rats, men, and children live in peace and harmony.”
Could such a place ever exist? Serres doesn’t seem to think so.
“The parasite invents something new. He obtains energy and pays for it with information. He obtains roast and pays for it with stories.”
How does the rat survive? He does not produce; he cannot properly steal or threaten (intentionally). So he picks up what we leave behind. But what we leave behind, is usually what we do not intend to leave behind; we don’t what rats in our homes or in our trash. A parasite is born. And yet, the rat still lives in the margins of society. Humans will hate him where ever he dwells. (Didn’t anyone tell them that in order to see eye to eye with humans that humans would first need to see eye to eye with each other?)
We blame the rat, the rat blames the flea, the flea, I am sure, would blame the Black Death. I’m sure the Black Death would blame something else as well, maybe the infected, for not being touch enough to survive it. Maybe not, maybe something else. The trail goes down the line and then back up, the parabola.
Of course, now things aren’t so simple. If the producer gets tired of his parasite, and gets his hands on some information, his only choice is to become a parasite himself. He has to chase off the rats, or poison them, set traps. He has to get inside the mind of the parasite. He must also invent a new interruption.
Serres also tells us why the producer will not be able to remain a parasite in definitely:
“The balance of exchange is always weighted and measured, calculated, taking into account a relation without exchange, an abusive relation. The term abusive is a term of usage. Abuse doesn’t prevent use. Abuse doesn’t prevent use. The abuse value, complete, irrevocable, consummation, precedes use- and exchange-value. Quite simply, it is the arrow with only one direction.
Abuse value, it seems, is how far up one side of the parabola you can get before you fall
back down and start going up the other side.
Serres loses me here though. The parasite invents, and yet the producer is the only alternative to the parasite. Can you produce and yet not invent? Serres also claims that to reproduce is to not true production. He has a nasty way of building and building on ideas as he writes. I may have missed part of the architecture, or just not seen enough of it yet.
Could such a place ever exist? Serres doesn’t seem to think so.
“The parasite invents something new. He obtains energy and pays for it with information. He obtains roast and pays for it with stories.”
How does the rat survive? He does not produce; he cannot properly steal or threaten (intentionally). So he picks up what we leave behind. But what we leave behind, is usually what we do not intend to leave behind; we don’t what rats in our homes or in our trash. A parasite is born. And yet, the rat still lives in the margins of society. Humans will hate him where ever he dwells. (Didn’t anyone tell them that in order to see eye to eye with humans that humans would first need to see eye to eye with each other?)
We blame the rat, the rat blames the flea, the flea, I am sure, would blame the Black Death. I’m sure the Black Death would blame something else as well, maybe the infected, for not being touch enough to survive it. Maybe not, maybe something else. The trail goes down the line and then back up, the parabola.
Of course, now things aren’t so simple. If the producer gets tired of his parasite, and gets his hands on some information, his only choice is to become a parasite himself. He has to chase off the rats, or poison them, set traps. He has to get inside the mind of the parasite. He must also invent a new interruption.
Serres also tells us why the producer will not be able to remain a parasite in definitely:
“The balance of exchange is always weighted and measured, calculated, taking into account a relation without exchange, an abusive relation. The term abusive is a term of usage. Abuse doesn’t prevent use. Abuse doesn’t prevent use. The abuse value, complete, irrevocable, consummation, precedes use- and exchange-value. Quite simply, it is the arrow with only one direction.
Abuse value, it seems, is how far up one side of the parabola you can get before you fall
back down and start going up the other side.
Serres loses me here though. The parasite invents, and yet the producer is the only alternative to the parasite. Can you produce and yet not invent? Serres also claims that to reproduce is to not true production. He has a nasty way of building and building on ideas as he writes. I may have missed part of the architecture, or just not seen enough of it yet.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
thought experiment 1. the place of the parasite.
To what lengths do people go to remove parasites from their bodies and from society in general? How do we determine if these parasites are threatening or not? How did these parasites get to be where they are? All these questions have a common thread, and that is: what place does the parasite occupy, both physically and imaginatively? My roommate and I just watched Schindler’s List; this of course got me thinking about World War Two and the Holocaust. We can say that Hitler did what he did, in part at least, because he thought that he was removing a harmful parasite from the planet. The common argument would be to say that his error was thinking of a cultural group as a parasite, and not as people. I would like to shift this somewhat by suggesting that his error was not in mistaking a group as a parasite, but rather, in thinking that he was justified in attempting to kill off a parasite group. At first glance it might seems offensive to refer to Jews as parasites, but if we take a look at the bigger picture we find out that this really is not significantly harsh view of humanity. The Nazi’s were also a parasite, both to the German population, and to Europe as a whole. The allied forces also, all parasites to their respective countries.
Anyone who has ever poked around into parasitism will probably be quick to tell you that parasite comes from the Greek “Parasitos” meaning “near food”. I could stop there and say that anyone or anything that is not starving is a parasite. This method of deriving definitions is a poor one, in my opinion; it’s outdated, vague and lazy. I am going to try to expand the context a bit, one of the definitions turned up by the The Oxford English Dictionary, is: “A person who lives at the expense of another, or of society in general; esp. a person who obtains the hospitality or patronage of the wealthy or powerful by obsequiousness and flattery; a person whose behavior resembles that of a plant or animal parasite; a sponger. Chiefly derogatory.” Now instead of “anything that is not starving is a parasite”, a parasite can be just about anything. With this multitude of available interpretations, “parasite” becomes much more significant as an action rather than as a thing; keeping in mind of course that humanity comes up on the roster before any other, seemingly more conventional parasites, such as a tape worm.
Not only do the above definitions give us an idea of the vastness of potential parasite has as a verb, but they also hint at where the parasite will always be found. The parasite is chiefly concerned with sustenance, often food, but not always; and since it does not produce its own it must remain near to the host. Without the host, the parasite dies off, or rather, whatever is acting as a parasite can then no longer parasite. Without nearness, neither the host, nor the parasite exists. The imagined threat of a parasite is also greatly mitigated over distance, as we see in The life and Opinions of the Tomcat Murr, Lothario is only threatened by, and only poses a threat to, Murr when in close proximity. Here the parasite-host relationship does not hold well, instead we have a battle over who will be the dominant parasite. “The brute will become a lecturer, receive a doctorate, will end up as a professor of aesthetics lecturing to students on Aeschylus! ... -- Oh I am quite beside myself! – that cat will root about in my own entrails…” (111) In this section we find a Lothario worried that Murr will rise up and claim his job. Each thinks the other to be the inferior parasite, but neither is a threat to the other when separated. Parasites, it seems, have a competitive nature over hosts.
Similarly, hosts also would appear to compete over parasites. This is derived from the intimate relationship that a parasite and a host share. I am by no means the first to realize this, no here is where the flea gets its truest poetic justice:
“Thou know'st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead ;
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pamper'd swells with one blood made of two ;
And this, alas ! is more than we would do.”
Donne, with poetic panache, cuts right to the heart of it. The flea, as a parasite, is intimate enough to represent sex without the loss of virtue on the part of any one of them. Not only does the flea get to take in part the act of Donne’s desire, but it is also pampered by this act, the parasite, it seems, is allowed enjoyment. The flea is also protected, partially at least, by being a vessel for a sacred mixture of blood. In “Puce” Barry Sanders gives us some history to Donne’s metaphor, “The events in question unfolded in the most innocent way. One particular evening in the summer of 1579, Monsieur Étienne Pasquier, a lawyer and distinguished man of letters, made a call on Madame Madeleine Des-Roches at Poitiers, and, to his surprise, noticed a flea on the bosom of her daughter,” The men at this get together, we are to understand, did not know what to make of this. The flea has had centuries of negative connotations attached to it, but at the same time, how could they kill the well positioned fellow without embarrassing both themselves and the young mademoiselle? Instead of taking action, the men did a rather French-y thing, and all wrote poetry about it. Donne’s sexually charged flea was born. These Frenchmen did more than just create a witty metaphor however; they were perhaps the first to discover a parasite that is socially desirable. Now we have iPods and iPads, and we shell out big money for these things, and then even more money for applications and songs to fill them.
If anything is to be gained from this thought experiment thus far, I hope it is that parasites are everywhere, and that quite a few of them are not too bad to have around, or are at least tolerable. This, however, is all still built into a society that usually has an aversion to parasites, or as OED puts it, their use is “Chiefly derogatory” we have also know that people will go to great lengths to remove what they perceive to be a parasite from themselves and from society. As I have hinted at earlier, this is not so much derived from any notions of superiority, but rather from competiveness stemming from instinctual systems. To become a parasite contains a set of desires, the want for more, for improvement. For the last piece of this puzzle, I want to take a look at Shivers as the ultimate representation of where lies the parasite. The parasite’s relationship to the host ends up being so intimate, that competition is ruled out almost entirely amongst the infected population; it seems likely that the parasite only wishes to spread to increase the population, not to become more powerful than any other individual parasite. Within the Starliner itself, the parasite’s transmission is always evident, but aside from the transmission, its origin and destination are much vaguer. Take Dr. Hobbes for instance, we are led to believe that he first engineered the parasite at first to replace livers, but then we are told that he made them into a combination of a powerful aphrodisiac and a venereal disease in order to let humans go back to their animal instincts, to live lives less burdened by social constraints. Finally, although at the beginning of the film, we see him kill off his test subject in an attempt to also kill the trial parasite. This seems to confirm my ideas that a parasite without a host is a vague notion at best, and also that you cannot really know what sort of relationship the two will have until the point of actual exposure. Also raised is the question of what will the parasites ultimate victory look like. Suppose it takes over every human, will the parasite still be considered a parasite, or will the world’s population just gain a characteristic. In order for a parasite to exist, do we not need a norm with which to compare the host-parasite relationship?
My discoveries are thus: the parasite cannot exist without the host, and by that rule, nothing is a host without a parasite. If the parasite leaves the host, or the host removes the parasite, the relationship is also void. The parasite only sometimes seeks the host. The host sometimes seeks the parasite. By these rules, parasites often compete for hosts, hosts often compete for parasites. More intimate parasite-host relationships can sometimes negate this competition. The place of the parasite is the host; the place of the host is the parasite.
Anyone who has ever poked around into parasitism will probably be quick to tell you that parasite comes from the Greek “Parasitos” meaning “near food”. I could stop there and say that anyone or anything that is not starving is a parasite. This method of deriving definitions is a poor one, in my opinion; it’s outdated, vague and lazy. I am going to try to expand the context a bit, one of the definitions turned up by the The Oxford English Dictionary, is: “A person who lives at the expense of another, or of society in general; esp. a person who obtains the hospitality or patronage of the wealthy or powerful by obsequiousness and flattery; a person whose behavior resembles that of a plant or animal parasite; a sponger. Chiefly derogatory.” Now instead of “anything that is not starving is a parasite”, a parasite can be just about anything. With this multitude of available interpretations, “parasite” becomes much more significant as an action rather than as a thing; keeping in mind of course that humanity comes up on the roster before any other, seemingly more conventional parasites, such as a tape worm.
Not only do the above definitions give us an idea of the vastness of potential parasite has as a verb, but they also hint at where the parasite will always be found. The parasite is chiefly concerned with sustenance, often food, but not always; and since it does not produce its own it must remain near to the host. Without the host, the parasite dies off, or rather, whatever is acting as a parasite can then no longer parasite. Without nearness, neither the host, nor the parasite exists. The imagined threat of a parasite is also greatly mitigated over distance, as we see in The life and Opinions of the Tomcat Murr, Lothario is only threatened by, and only poses a threat to, Murr when in close proximity. Here the parasite-host relationship does not hold well, instead we have a battle over who will be the dominant parasite. “The brute will become a lecturer, receive a doctorate, will end up as a professor of aesthetics lecturing to students on Aeschylus! ... -- Oh I am quite beside myself! – that cat will root about in my own entrails…” (111) In this section we find a Lothario worried that Murr will rise up and claim his job. Each thinks the other to be the inferior parasite, but neither is a threat to the other when separated. Parasites, it seems, have a competitive nature over hosts.
Similarly, hosts also would appear to compete over parasites. This is derived from the intimate relationship that a parasite and a host share. I am by no means the first to realize this, no here is where the flea gets its truest poetic justice:
“Thou know'st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead ;
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pamper'd swells with one blood made of two ;
And this, alas ! is more than we would do.”
Donne, with poetic panache, cuts right to the heart of it. The flea, as a parasite, is intimate enough to represent sex without the loss of virtue on the part of any one of them. Not only does the flea get to take in part the act of Donne’s desire, but it is also pampered by this act, the parasite, it seems, is allowed enjoyment. The flea is also protected, partially at least, by being a vessel for a sacred mixture of blood. In “Puce” Barry Sanders gives us some history to Donne’s metaphor, “The events in question unfolded in the most innocent way. One particular evening in the summer of 1579, Monsieur Étienne Pasquier, a lawyer and distinguished man of letters, made a call on Madame Madeleine Des-Roches at Poitiers, and, to his surprise, noticed a flea on the bosom of her daughter,” The men at this get together, we are to understand, did not know what to make of this. The flea has had centuries of negative connotations attached to it, but at the same time, how could they kill the well positioned fellow without embarrassing both themselves and the young mademoiselle? Instead of taking action, the men did a rather French-y thing, and all wrote poetry about it. Donne’s sexually charged flea was born. These Frenchmen did more than just create a witty metaphor however; they were perhaps the first to discover a parasite that is socially desirable. Now we have iPods and iPads, and we shell out big money for these things, and then even more money for applications and songs to fill them.
If anything is to be gained from this thought experiment thus far, I hope it is that parasites are everywhere, and that quite a few of them are not too bad to have around, or are at least tolerable. This, however, is all still built into a society that usually has an aversion to parasites, or as OED puts it, their use is “Chiefly derogatory” we have also know that people will go to great lengths to remove what they perceive to be a parasite from themselves and from society. As I have hinted at earlier, this is not so much derived from any notions of superiority, but rather from competiveness stemming from instinctual systems. To become a parasite contains a set of desires, the want for more, for improvement. For the last piece of this puzzle, I want to take a look at Shivers as the ultimate representation of where lies the parasite. The parasite’s relationship to the host ends up being so intimate, that competition is ruled out almost entirely amongst the infected population; it seems likely that the parasite only wishes to spread to increase the population, not to become more powerful than any other individual parasite. Within the Starliner itself, the parasite’s transmission is always evident, but aside from the transmission, its origin and destination are much vaguer. Take Dr. Hobbes for instance, we are led to believe that he first engineered the parasite at first to replace livers, but then we are told that he made them into a combination of a powerful aphrodisiac and a venereal disease in order to let humans go back to their animal instincts, to live lives less burdened by social constraints. Finally, although at the beginning of the film, we see him kill off his test subject in an attempt to also kill the trial parasite. This seems to confirm my ideas that a parasite without a host is a vague notion at best, and also that you cannot really know what sort of relationship the two will have until the point of actual exposure. Also raised is the question of what will the parasites ultimate victory look like. Suppose it takes over every human, will the parasite still be considered a parasite, or will the world’s population just gain a characteristic. In order for a parasite to exist, do we not need a norm with which to compare the host-parasite relationship?
My discoveries are thus: the parasite cannot exist without the host, and by that rule, nothing is a host without a parasite. If the parasite leaves the host, or the host removes the parasite, the relationship is also void. The parasite only sometimes seeks the host. The host sometimes seeks the parasite. By these rules, parasites often compete for hosts, hosts often compete for parasites. More intimate parasite-host relationships can sometimes negate this competition. The place of the parasite is the host; the place of the host is the parasite.
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