American apocalypticism. On Pierpaolo Ascari’s Fine di mondo: dentro al rifugio antiatomico da giardino (2024). by Gerardo Muñoz

Pointing to a methodological clarification, Pierpaolo Ascari’s Fine di mondo: dentro al rifugio antiatomico da giardino (DeriveApprodi, 2024) opens with an untimely advice: the threat of atomic extermination of human life can only be told and appealed through the irony deployed in all areas of consumerist culture. Undoubtedly, this fits pretty well to the case on point, since American modernization is both the hotbed of Hollywood and the atomic bomb, two poles of the regime of a vicarious life consisted with Henry Adams’ well-known assertion that, in spite of everything, America civilizational passion has always been generalized optimism. And it is not surprising that Stanley Kubrick, when asked about the thesis of Dr. Strangelove (1964), also claimed that the only possible form to tell a story about the bomb of total extermination was through a black comedy (Ascari 11). This self-serving optimism is tested in Ascari’s Fine di mondo (2024) by looking at the construction of an apocalyptic underworld fantasy; that is, in the garden of anti-atomic sheltering that reveals the true arcana of modern Americanism as a subterfuge – but also a civil current in plain sight – parallel to the rise of mechanized labor under the conditions of the triumphant Fordism. Of course, now that our farewell to Fordism has been longed trumpeted, it does not take much to see that what remains is the infrastructure of schizophrenia and general terror in the social fabric that colors the specific tune of American apocalypticism. Ascari’s book is a superb elaboration of this tonality as historically rooted and articulated, but also open to its (pseudo)theological mutations undergoing in our present. 

On the surface, Ascari’s Fine di mondo (2024) is a short compendium of the civil responses and techniques towards atomic destruction and survival; but, more deeply, is also a history of Americanism as a historical project committed to a long process of civil domestication, enclosure, and endurance of survival. Of course, the nuances here are important to grasp the subtle hypothesis of Ascari’s working scene, since we also know that modernity at large (considering both its contingency and contradiction as features of its emergence) was also a process of an optimized gnosis through alienation and the enclosure of private property towards commerce stabilization and productive growth (the nomos). But for Ascari the specificity of the American nomoi through the lenses of atomic sheltering and refuge implies a microphysis; that is, a “way of life” validated through theological premises tailored in the organization of subjective deificatio (Ascari 23). This means that the apocalyptic apparatus driving American philosophy of history is not just one of realization towards the absolute objectivation of the world – even if such endeavor is necessary and preparatory – but rather that the sheltering and self-imposed domestication of human existence has become naturalized as a threshold of the conditions of finite human life. The paradigm of sheltering as the unit of survival is a form of self-regulation of grace that is consistent with the evangelical dispensationalism and technical election analyzed in Monica Ferrando’s recent important book.

The concrete examples abound in Ascari’s short but densely illustrated book: from the Civil Protection comic to the details of the emergence of “do it yourself” assemble manuals (discussed in the correspondence between Adorno and Sohn-Rethel); from the Hulk to Godzilla in a post-atomic bombed world; form the resilient speeches on atomic menace by JFK to a 1950s study conducted at Princeton University that reassured that “fathers” will get to know their children better in conditions of total sheltering even if it results in an “ethics of the jungle” (Ascari 34). Following Guy Oakes’ groundbreaking The Imaginary War: Civil Defense and American Cold War Culture (1994), what is distilled in Ascari’s pop culture puzzle is the panorama of the “Cold War” not as a war that did not take place between two imperial powers; but rather a total war that took place beneath the crust of the earth (and this is why the topoi of the refugee becomes so telling) and at the thicket of human existence waged as psychic management of the civil sphere. In fact, the “imaginary war” is nothing else than the stazion once social life that has yet to cease to exist in our days (Ascari 48-49). 

For Ascari this implied an interiorization of the ‘sublime’ in the reification of the social fabric, which cannot be divorced from the lobotomized subjectivity of the crisis of “social man” that Gianni Carchia identified as the steering project of post-enlightenment Romantic negativity. In the turbid vaults of the self-made man we encounter the liquidation of everything that is living and the projection of fictitious death that clings into “salvation” in spite of absolute destruction; because, after all, those that survive total destruction are only there to confirm the soteriological greatness of the American destiny (Ascari 78-79). The thorough “Ubu” dimension of American psychic political power definitely speaks to this well sedimented conviction of sacrificial subjectivity. Who does not remember the glorious chants for resilience and isolation of the American political elites during the peak of the COVID19 crisis management? If it came to no one’s surprise that a large majority of Americans accepted the pandemic arbitrary rules (monetized whenever needed, it goes without saying), it was because the American subjectivity has been adapted for quite too long to the ongoing separation of refugee and domestication. After reading Ascari, in fact, we think whether the emergency policies were not just another episode in the history of American sheltering now extended at a planetary scale.

There is another idiosyncrasy to American apocalypticism that must be accounted for. And this is introduced towards the end of Fine di mondo (2024), when Ascari quotes Ernesto De Martino about nuclear war; mainly, that when it comes to atomic annihilation there is no longer the symbolic mythic-ritualistic process of reintegration, but rather the mere technification of the hand that gathers scientific knowledge in convergence with the death drive” (Ascari 81). In other words, this technico-apocalypticism brings to absolute unity the originary response of the human species (the movement of the hand) with the organization of scientific rationality that, like Günther Anders saw, brings no re-symbolization of the principle of reality, but rather it can only reaffirm the layering of the principle of reality to govern over it (Ascari 85). In a way, if it as if the essence of American apocalypticism is instituted as if beyond time, since the endurance of a “time of the end” means that the triumphant death (and the dead fueling the demagoguery of its process) foreclosing the symbolization without an exit. Indeed, an apocalypse without redeeming kingdom. For Ascari the only anticipation – primordial mechanism of anthropological capacity – is that of “money”, and hence the dominance of the principle of general equivalence entails gaining the temporal illusion of some distance from the ongoing production of death. But it is evident to anyone today, as it was said not long ago, that the true dead are those petit bourgeoisie living in the American suburbs. And they keep coming as the embers of domestic happiness try to ferociously shut down the latency of a piercing pain. 

Yes, the nature of permanent apocalypticism confirms that the true and final object of techno-capitalist force has always been the possibility of multiple life worlds. And its erosion implies the endless possibility of ordering the life of the city, as Elon Musk just a couple of weeks ago told the former president of the Republican Party: “Hiroshima and Nagasaki were bombed and now they are full cities again. Yeah, it is not as scary as people think”. If the enterprise of civilization has largely been understood as springing from the crust of the earth upwards, one of the important lessons of Ascari’s Fine di mondo is that it trains us to look downwards and inwards as the cruxes of America’s persistent government over the garden of our souls. 

The face of pain. by Gerardo Muñoz

One is always struck by the pictorial intensity of Massacio’s “Expulsion from the Garden of Eden” fresco (1425) at Santa Maria del Carmine Chapel. It has something to do with the unbounded expressivity swirled by an acoustic of lamentation that springs from both faces at once. The nakedness in movement only comes second. If it is right to call it ‘modern’ is precisely because of its polarity  between movement and paralysis, light and shadow, the formation of the lines delineating the bodies and the free-style strokes that carry Massacio’s picture to a strict and unsurpassed balance. It is a picture of the gathering of  lamentation and pain, which confirms Ernesto de Martino’s intuition that in the ritual of mourning weeping and crying is also accompanied by an act of self-defacement, such as covering the face or bring the face as close as possible to the lower body position. Adam’s pain is reinforced by the hand that covers and pulls the face downwards, almost making it disappear. In a way, his walkout of Paradise is already the stroll of a nobody. 

There is perhaps an intimate relationship between defacement and pain. In his short gloss on this work, Robert Longhi notes that the source of strength of Massacio’s work is given by the intensity of light that bathes the bodies of Adam and Eve in its purest naked form [1]. This total exposition is the cause of sin that, as a great historian of religion has brought to our attention, presupposes the entire carnalization of both body and soul after being thrown into the soteriological world of the living [2]. From now on, human life vested in pain means paying the price of the destruction of the soul for the protected  and preventive set up in the world. 

The sinful life – a life that will have to be chosen but punished justly – entails the consummation of pain as the central tonality of post-felix culpa existence. In other words, it is not that life is shameful because it has been dispossessed (or because it recognizes itself possessed); it is dispossessed because it can no longer look at the world outside the blinding light of programmed obsolescence towards death without transcendence. And the liquidation of transcendence means that human beings become faceless entities in a world that will forever become unfathomable. 

In our days – a present marked by absolute secularization of ancient religious somatic religiosity and magical traces – the phenomenon of defacement and the faceless far from disappearing is all over the world around us. The ritualistic mask which provided transcendence to the living presence of the divine gods has now become a symbol of social shame self-imposed by arbitrary and ever-increasing moral mandates. In a sense, we have not yet left the path initiated in Massacio’s Adam and Eve fresco, and who knows if we’ll ever exit it in the ongoing destruction of the human species. We do know, however, that any meaningful change of the current state of things can only take place starting at the divine surface of the face, as Carlo Levi so eloquently understood it in the postwar years: 

“Only a genuine revolution succeeds in changing the way people look, their facial expressions, the light in their eyes, the charm of their smiles. Christianity appeared with new faces, or taught a new way of looking at them. If we go through the streets and compare the faces we see with our memory of them, we won’t recognize persons any more. It is something that anticipates reality, as if prophetically, the universal change that for almost two centuries now has been shaping new faces throughout the whole world”. [3]





Notes 
1. Roberto Longhi. Breve pero auténtica historia de la pintura italiana (Machado Libros, 2023), 114.
2. Paula Fredriksen. Sin: The Early History of an Idea (Princeton University Press, 2012), 116.
3. Carlo Levi. La doppia notte dei tigli (Einaudi, 1959), 109.

Carlo Michelstaedter: Pain and the Social. A seminar with Revista Disenso. by Gerardo Muñoz

In the following months some of us will offer an eight week seminar exclusively dedicated to a close and analytical reading of the enigmatic work La persuasione e la rettorica (1910) by Italian thinker Carlo Michelsteadter (1887-1910). Ever since his death – as can be easily gasped by Giovanni Papini’s obituary in 1917 – there has been an aura of mystery around the infamous philosophical suicide of Michelsteadter that only parallels that of Socrates’ hemlock or Otto Weiniger’s self-inflected gunshot. Of course, we will be less interested in the biographical motives, and if push comes to shove attention to this detail will be elaborated in light of the nexus of his thought to the event of his death.  

La persuasione e la rettorica (1910) offers a unique theoretical elaboration about the civilizational decline of the “living” into the rhetorical deferment of life as realized in the organization of social alienation. And for Michaelsteadter there is no other purpose of rhetorical form than the absolute submission to the general abstraction that defaces the event of pain. It is no accident that he was also interested in the thematics of health and ancient techniques of pain-relief (the techné alupias, for instance), even if underdeveloped in his thinking given his sudden premature death. So, it is for us, his posthumous readers, to take these sets of issues and move them forward in our present any way we can. This is part of the task that motivates putting together this seminar after a series of conversations with friends and interlocutors.

La persuasione e la rettorica (1910) deploys the classical metaphysical tradition through the ancient poles of “rhetoric” and “persuasion”, where the second (the ancient Peithò) seeks to return the voice and expression to the problem of pain as an ineffable type of speech (Logos) that refuses the elevation of force that harbors the circulation of violence and the administration of social death. The ancient notion of the Peithò withdraws echoes of the mythical inception and the sacred, as also reminded by Aristophanes: “Persuasion’s only shrine is eloquent speech (Logos)…And I Persuasion (Peitho), the most lovely word” (The Frogs, 1391-1395). Where and how do we attune ourselves to the peitho today – the imperative of the eros of the word in the wake of the regime of social production of pain? 

In the aftermath of the collapse of the cycle of civilizational secularization, it is only obvious that all these questions stratified in the tradition once again become attractive and pertinent. In this light, we think that Michelstaedter’s thought still offers us a series of  significant hypotheses to think through the crisis of social man and the domination of the civil that colors our current predicament, where the question of “pain” is still an understudied problem. Throughout this course we will address notions such as rhetoric and persuasion, life and communication, nihilism and values, the logic of capital and the social bond, or the notion of world and pain. Our aspiration when approaching Carlo Michelsteadter’s work is to develop reflective conditions to address the thorny issue of an ethics of pain that so thickly enmeshed in our historical moment.

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‡: Information about the registration to the seminar will be made available at Revista Disenso in upcoming days. The seminar will run every other week for a period of eight sessions (roughly from the beginning of September to early December, 2024).

The felicitous water carrier. By Gerardo Muñoz

There is something vessel-like in communication, and the need to keep it alive and to give it consistency and texture; to prolong it in both time and space. If it is true that ‘empty chatter’ is the erasure of the possibility of making in language, then communication is not just a practice of translation and legibility, but of passing of an experience, however impossible and tenuous that could be. This passing on through communication is embodied in the old figure of the portatori d’acqua or the aguador that famously appears in early modern Spain. The aguador is a figure of stagnation that sustains life, even if he is (or precisely due to this very fact) an iconic fact of social indigence.

One can easily recall Diego Velázquez’s “El aguador de Sevilla” (1618) with his ragged clothes and noble stance in the somber bodegón picture. V. S. Pritchett was up to something when he claimed that to ‘know a people’ is to know its poor. And that poverty is, first and foremost, a poverty in temper and restraint. What does it mean to communicate in the temper of poverty? This seems to me the question at the heart of Velázquez’s exemplary aguador. What is cherished in the aguador’s concrete labor (carrying and bringing water) is a transcendental relation that retains the need of life.

In a sense, there is no surprise as to why the aguador has disappeared in the due course of long and agonic historical development. If the essence of civilization is appropriation and growth, accumulation and production, then it is to see how the impoverished water carrier is meant to disappear. Already in the Lazarillo de Tormes (1554), Lázaro’s inverse transfigural condition into a social subject takes place by abandoning his short-lived condition of aguador, which is hyperbolic of the organization of the social stagnation. It is clear that Lázaro’s picaresque attitude of outsourcing the nascent commercial society of good and services – embedded in the production of criminality and banditry – is a way to overcome the original indigence of the aguador, whose sanctity must be amended through the mimetic process of autonomous secularization and the rise of the metropolis. 

Thus, the eclipse of the figure of the water carrier coincides historically with the fall of the contact of languages and experiences between human beings. This might be why in the civilizational peak of the metropolitan organization of the world, the poverty of experience refracted by the force of alienated objectivity becomes a problem for sewage engineers in the goal of the reproduction of life. Vargas Vilas’ provocative definition of the “social” as a machine of the production of excrement should be understood as an scatological image of what it means to live in a world without aguadores

And this why everytime that a water pitch is brought to a table an oblique and momentary happiness overtake us beyond the biological need of human thirst. To this end, Isabel Quintanilla’s Duralex water glass painting (1969) encapsulates something so divine and unfathomable; as if, in the suspension of words or stories, the resurrection of the water carrier is brought back to the sharp appearance of things.

The absorption of the sky of politics. On Michele Garau’s Lo scisma da un mondo che muore: Jacques Camatte e la rivoluzione (2024). by Gerardo Muñoz

We must welcome that Michele Garau has written the first monograph on Jacques Camatte’s thought in any language, although the book, Lo scisma da un mondo che muore: Jacques Camatte e la rivoluzione (DeriveApprodi, 2024) it is also more ambitious than a mere philological reconstruction of the thinker of Invariance. Of course, not that there is anything particularly wrong with philological or archival work; rather, it is also that Lo scisma da un mondo che muore (2024) tries to think with Camatte (and also beyond some of his potential impasses) the historical bifurcation of a watershed moment in the history of humankind through the realization of the “capitalist revolution” as an autonomous colonization of every form of exteriority (Garau 7). If Camatte’s work has been only selectively considered in our ongoing discussions – while completely ignored at large by the so-called contemporary theory, which I guess it is an uplifting symptom – is precisely because he poses a challenge for a possible breakthrough in times of stagnation, while firmly announcing a much needed farewell to the modern revolution. But who would want to jump on that wagon when precisely voluntarism, prosthetic revolutionary cosmetic, and fictive communitarianism are all necessary platitudes to hold on to the illusion of ground right above the abyss? It is a rhetorical question, of course, but also one that Camatte move passed it in the in the decades of sixties and seventies observant to the material transformation of the working class, and the overall lesson of Amadeo Bordiga’s communism of the human species, which has also been rendered opaque and fossil-like by the victorious force of cultural hegemony and the whole grammatical structure of Gramsci’s thought in postwar political thought (and some will say well into our very present in the most recent cycle of failed left-populism). We said ‘farewell’ and this act, for Camatte after Bordiga’s teaching, means that the revolution has already taken place and must be perceived in the perspective of the crisis of negativity and the inception of the real absorption of capitalist development (Garau 14). 

Hence, new challenges lay ahead, which implies the abandonment of the historical and temporal productivity of revolutionary time – and Garau does an excellent mapping of bourgeois revolutionary thinking from Abbe Sieyès to Saint Just to later formulations of the Leninist paradigm of the dictatorship of the proletariat – which in the grand scene of modernity oriented the economy between form and function, but also between thought and action. If the epoch is said to be ‘anarchic’ is mainly because all these mediations and exclusive autonomous spheres have collapsed unto each other, and to favor one over the other is to work within the fiction of ideological reproduction at best. After Bordiga – Garau claims glossing Camatte, although there are nuances that I cannot consider in the space of this short commentary – the temporalization of the ius revolutionis can only bear in mind the crisis of presence (De Martino) as a suspension of exteriority that liberates right unto real subsumption. This means, following the recently polished phrase of Bordiga from his article “Tempo di abiuratori di scismi” (1965), that all revolutions are born and deployed as the affirmation of the schism. “Schism” or “scisma” — and one is reminded or taken back to a theological terrain, and not just as mitigated by the old ecclesiastical memories of the “Great Schism”, but because “schism” is also the “stazion” that fractures the visible-invisible legacy of form of the Church’s Trinitarian doctrine, and which is still the esoteric boiling point of the myth of political theology. This is a detour around Garau-Camatte-Bordiga’s intuition, since none of this is explicitly thematized in the book, nor should it be. It suffices that it opens to this question, given that Camatte’s own grammar of exhaustion – “extinction”, “inversion”, “autopoiesis”, “critique of organization”, “wandering” (erranza) – distill the echoes of an apocalyptic movement proper to the modern anthropological crisis, to put in terms of Ernesto de Martino.

Be as it may, the longue durée of civilizational development of Western revolutions (Edward Gibbon would claim at least since the reconstitution of the Christian Empire) there has been a process of adequation to invariant processes of capitalist accumulation that its substrate (whether permanent, uneven, natural law justified) becomes isomorphic to the structural needs of capitalist autonomization. In a cogent reading of Sieyes with Saint-Just in the framework of the French Revolution, Garau demonstrates how the genesis of modern politics and its categorial scaffolding (localization, constituent power, social unity, subject of rights, and representation) presuppose a thoroughly new vision to make the human community a clean slate for surface legibility (Garau 42). If the civil concept of the ancient polis was measurement and exchange; the crafting of high-modern state politics that took off in the eighteenth century was much thicker and spatially robust dynamics so that the ‘laws of commerce’ and population disciplining could come to fruition with its necessary infrastructural support. The schism was always a perturbation of the “sphere of politics” (and also of politics as a translucent sphere that can be observed, stabilized, and managed), and thus a great scandal.

Hence, the critique of political economy in the history of marxism was never able to untangle this mutual correspondence. For Garau at this point one can locate the difference between Camatte’s thought and Italian operaismo; given that Italian workerism at mid-century was never able to overcome the dialectic between the valence of value form and the theory of the production of capital. Whereas for Mario Tronti the struggle was still to be inscribed in to confrontation between the proletariat qua labor power; for Camatte the “invarianza” is not an permanent stage within the history of class struggle or Marxism, but of the human community and its resistance against the real subsumption of the material community (Garau 48). Decoupling the history of the working class as constitutive of productionism from the human community, allows Camatte, in the wake of Bordiga’s communism, to register the subsumption of capital as it collapses into dialectical negativity. Hence, communism is neither produced nor organized as operaismo always thought (Garau 26-27). And citing a passage from “Against domestication”, Garau argues that for Camatte the history of the proletariat struggle after 1945 is only the struggle to maintain the myth of the proletariat as the subject of a historical breakthrough (Garau 73). This is a staggering affirmation, and one that most definitely produces a theoretical schism. But the schism is also against the fictionalization of a subject of history, which has also been integrated into the emptying of social reality as we have come to know it in the final triumph of the fictive unto itself (Garau 93). 

There is the triumph of the fictive and expansive force of capital despotism, and then there is the struggle for the originary community (Gemeinwesen), which as Gianni Carchia argued in his “Glosa sull’umanismo” (1977) was still enmeshed in the contradiction between humanism and anti-humanism obstructing the vascular movement of non-identical fragments imploding the social. Is this getting at an impasse of Camatte’s own effort of thought to find an exit route? As an intelligent book, Lo scisma da un mondo che muore (2024), refuses to give an essay in the last three pages of the essay, although this difficulty is an object of attention. For instance, Garau writes in one of the clearest elaborations to tackle the problem directly: “La comunità deve allora essere riscoperta in una memoria della specie che finisce per radicarsi, questo è il rischio, esclusivamente in un bagaglio biologico. Nell’esaurimento delle strutture sociali preesistenti, dei linguaggi e degli schemi culturali, delle intelaiature rappresentative e cognitive, nella colonizzazione delle capacità psichiche, affettive, simboliche, è davvero possibile individuare un resto intoccabile dall’antropomorfosi del capitale che non debba essere, invece, creato dal nulla? C’è una «parte irriducibile», come scriveva Bataille, rispetto alle unità di misura del dispotismo economico? Non è semplice rispondere” (Garau 124).

In light of this rumination, Garau also attends to the cycle of contemporary revolts, which might stand as an instance of linguistic and existential struggle against domestication and the crisis of presence (Cesarano), and that might be capable of “absorbing the sky of politics into the most simple and elements components” (Garau 124-125). This is a great image, and one that has pictorial density and durability for thought even if it lacks specific elaboration. To absorb the open sky is to confront the exteriority of the world only as transfigured and brought back as a gathering of experience. The great German critic Kurt Badt comes to mind when writing about Constable: “the sky’s the organ of sentiment”. The embarrassing loss of the world today is fundamentally the destruction of the right attunement to our relation to the opening registered by what gleams above our heads. And perhaps this is a way to measure the capacity for non-movements rather than thinking that movements can disclose the sky. To this end, what could it mean to absorb the sky of politics – which is also a way to refuse the politics of sky, that is, the total planetary grand designs of geopolitical Tianxia? The irreductible may not be reduced to a substance, nor an ontological science nor a vitalist return to an originary community (if only mediated by the restriction of the archaic myth); but precisely that positionality of contact between what is exterior to life itself. To dislodge thought from all political plotting of objectivation and its plastic ligament of social adaptation. A life beyond itself that endures, and perhaps will outlive this dying world.

Morin’s autocritique and the human species. by Gerardo Muñoz

Edgar Morin’s memoir of the interwar years, Autocritique (1970), is a coherent elaboration of the early disaffection with the official culture of the Communist Party years, and the nihilist production of justifications to outlive the suppression of life into the abstraction of dogmatic principles. There are some harsh pages in Autocritique that color the general party-line position against the emerging critique of Stalinism. Let us just take this example: “The nonnegotiable and intransigent position against any anti-stalinsim would compensate for a life without principles with the enactment of a set of principles without life” [1]. It does not require much self-reflection to see that this formulation – the production of abstract reasoning in the name of boundless defense of principles – seeks to legitimize the dialectical ruse that indexes the general sense that “life does not live”, if one were to paraphrase Fernand Kürnberger. The self-assumed nihilism and bad faith denounced in the pages of Autocritique was not just that sacrifice was the abstract historical assumption of liberation, but rather that the reality of sacrifice was unbearable for many; specially for those who found themselves in a situation to suffer it [2]. And part of the memoiralist reconstruction by Morin is to leave all this behind, and in the effort to do so, also embrace a political option beyond the collapse of the historical utopia. 

Of course, there is some ambiguity here, and to put it in this way it is already a form of understatement. About halfway through the book, Morin recalls that Elio Vittorini had told them [Antelme and Mascolo, his two good buddies during the postwar years] that communist culture had a saturation of politicization within itself; and, already in 1949, this saturation of politics had calcified  into a “policing control within politics” [3]. In other words, the postwar Cold War context was the consummation of the static politics of the previous decade, only that now it was co-extensive with planetary gigantism as two formations of civilizational states (Americanism and the Soviet Union). Could there have been an option for a different political elaboration, to put in Morin’s own terms; that is, a communism without the iron law (and lawlessness) of objective-driven efficacy and efficiency? (This second was Morin’s term) [4]. Morin does not have a positive answer to this question at least in 1970. However, we can reconstruct a possible answer by taking into account at least two divergent symptoms. First, is Morin’s critical target: political stalinism as hyperbolic of the communist aspiration and necessary culmination, which had cut through the thicket of the gordian knot of historical dialetics movement for emancipation.

Let’s take this moment: “Stalinism was monstrous, I myself perceived in 1949. But this monstrosity had tainted the most admirable form conceived by man: communism. Now evil and good would intertwine in an intimate way….and the attempt to eliminate the cancer’s cause was not, at the sametime, also a form to suppress the fountain of life” [5]. If anything this is a symptom that for Morin, it seems to me, that communism cuts through political ideology, and cannot be contained otherwise. At the same time, the leveling of the critique at this height entails that Morin’s own leveled critique is still prey to ideological determinations blanketed as political rationality. In fact this is something that Autocritique never abandons; and, perhaps its retention indexes its impasse, which is also the impasse of the political subjectivity. 

The second symptom is that Morin never dares to mention Robert Antelme’s The Human Species as a touchtone memoir of the experience of the camp, and the camp as hyperbolic of the destruction of politicity. Of course, the strongest distillation of Antelme’s book is not waged at the level of political ideology, but rather about rather at the level of the human species as the final destination of infinite destruction (because he can be infinitely destroyed in virtue of its indestructible irreducibility) that brings back the indivisible origin of the human species. Of course, this rings true with Amadeo Borgida’s thesis that ideological determination puts emphasis on the individual (in positive or negative sense), whereas communism attends to the human species as the ground level of the species [6]. 

Needless to say, what is realized in both Stalinism and Nazism, albeit their different designs and orientations, is the confused struggle of the separation within what is unfathomable kernel of the human species (this is after all the naturalist project of Hitler’s Black Earth). And what Antelme discovers – although the verb discovering here is providing a scientific optic that is not too appropriate – is that the human species is at the ground of needs, but insofar as the need of the human species transcends itself to its biological reduction. Perhaps this is where the thorny question of “ethics” should be situated; a question that, in return, will also put in perspective our distance with the generation of Rue Saint Benoit and the humanist-nonhumanist polemic regarding the miraculous transcendence of human beings in the world. Was not this Antelme’s definition in the “The Smiling Angel”: “The only transcendence is the relation between beings”? Morin’s concluding remarks in Autocritique decisively go to the heart of this question, which is worth citing in full: 

“Ethics is an existential feeling, like the feeling of freedom, answered by every science, by every look at the past as well as by every forecast of the future, but which is the lifeblood of the lived present. And this sap of what has been lived, a paradoxical thing, is the presence in our inner core of the ought-to-be, of the ideal, of the negation, that is, of the virtual and the imaginary. And everything that eliminates the ought, the denial, the ideal, the imaginary and the virtual, concerns what is dead and fossilized. The only thing we can do is become aware of this contradiction. Perhaps a new conception of the world, where the relationship between what is called real and what is called virtual will have taken on a new meaning, will allow us to progress further.” [7]. 

At the end of Autocritique Morin seems ready to accept the magical and mystified dimension of reification, a necessary philosophical and practical technical anthropology invest a new ordered relationship with the world. But this is also symptomatic of Morin’s subjectivism and humanism that stops him at the nearness of the question of the human species. He never arrives there, or he stops too short. This is the distance that keeps illumination at hand; that is, that stubbornly insists on holding to modernity’s capacity for reinvention and, upholds the dialectics between critique and autonomous freedom. But, this is precisely what is no longer what could suffice the opening of “a new conception of the world today”, even if the gordian knot is precisely at the conjuncture of ethics, language, and existence. No subject without critique, and no critique without the emergence of a new subject. As such, self-critique becomes an unconvincing condition to advance towards a beaten and well known path.

Notes 

1. Edgar Morin. Autocrítica (Editorial Kairós, 1976), 117

2. Ibid., 45. 

3. Ibid., 163. 

4.Ibid., 72. 

5. Ibid., 162. 

6. Amadeo Bordiga. “Specie umana e crosta terrestre” (1952), in Drammi gialli e sinistri della moderna decadenza sociale (Iskra, 1978), 94.

7. Edgar Morin. Autocrítica (Editorial Kairós, 1976), 266-267.

Holding on to painting. by Gerardo Muñoz

Paying a visit to a painter’s studio is a rare experience, but definitely gratifying. Or at least, it has been for a long time even before I could put it to words. At her studio, I confirm that Laura Carralero’s commitment to painting as a practical activity has an unfathomable dimension, and I was pleasantly surprised that she shared the same sentiment that our current epoch is not one in which painting has a minimal breathing space. And whenever painting emerges in the official market circuits of art, it seems that it is always already parasitical to some verbose rhetorical apparatus or heteronomic planning that distortions the painterly sentiment. But was not painting the task of speaking the engagement regarding  “mute things”, as Poussin would have it? There is little doubt that rhetorical inflation that thrives in mechanisms to legitimate art continuously devalorizes the mysterious proximity of painting with things in the world. We should reflect – or we should continue to reflect – about what it means to be in a point in the history of humankind where the obsolescence of painting and the disappearance of the dexterous achievement of the hand has thoroughly been realized (Focillon’s praise of the hand remains as actual as when it was first written: “The artist that cuts wood, twerks metal or rock keeps alive a very ancient human past that without which we would immediately cease to exist. Is not admirable to see in the mechanical age this stubborn human survivor of the ages of the hand?”) [1].

The task is immense and abnormal, and it defies (because it exceeds it) the theoretical concept and the absolutism of the philosopher. The engagement of the painters – a secret community that still exists here and there, in different geographies of the world – is precisely a keeping of the divine vortex of the human in the abyss without higher pretensions. And there is something stubbornly strange about painting against the mounting force of destruction. Although perhaps ‘resistance’ here means nothing but to hold on to the originary instance of appropriation of experience in the wake of the epochal mutation of anthropogenic composure; as if the end of the species is also pulsating its commencement.

Holding to painting is not just a substitute to the act of refusal (something that I have recently mapped out); rather, it refuses the very negation of the anthropological erosion in its soulful interaction with what it remains outside of language. To hold on to painting means to engage in the imperturbable: what discourse cannot mold and relocate; what previously is poor in language so that a new language, and thus a new world, could emerge anew among the rubble. In his forthcoming book Those Passions, T.J. Clark states, quite forcefully, that no political transformation or epochal breakthrough can emerge without a preliminary transformation in language; and, I am tempted to say, that practice of painting is the topoi in which eye, world, and hand come together in the very act of separation of said renewal.

The terror of painting – only aggravated in the last decades or so, although a process that took off the postwar years and continued into schools of art where militant pedagogues can only shout “don’t bother to paint!” – is the general stimulus of the reified world; a world in which the paradigm of “objethood” now stands as the compensatory empty experience for poignant idolization of nothingness and “mere stuff”. Sure, there is no return to painting in its grandiose historical sequences – Renaissance, French modern painting, the European Baroque, Van Eyck’s optical discoveries – which ultimately means that painting’s instantiation with the tradition is also bare and unexplored; or, absolutely uncharted whenever there the event of true painting. While I glance at Carralero’s diminutive wooden oil paintings I have this in mind at least. There is a return to the divinity of the icon, but it is not a restitution of its theological investiture and its purported liturgy; the pictorial exercise takes into account the structural void in which painting finds itself resisting, for better or worse, representational excess.

And this speaks, I take it, to the muteness of painting as such, which is also Carralero’s silence about the import of medieval icons into the present. In a way, the painterly operation (I realize that this expression is awful) is executed in a paradoxical redemption, since space always calls forth presentism, a here and now. One is reminded of Stevens’ verses in “Ordinary Evening in New Haven”: “To say good-bye to the past and to live and to be / in the present state of things as, say, to paint / In the present state of painting and not the state of thirty years ago”. The emphasis of the verse declines towards that injunction “as say, to paint”, which fixes a current state of being in the world where we are in it but outside of it. Is not this, precisely, another description of the “Just”? I am eager to work through painting’s stubborn position to this description, which means to hold on to the imperturbable. 

The imperturbable seems to me like a fitting term to grasp what Carralero is doing in her pictures, although with no pretensions to exhaust her pictorial adventure. The solemnity of the icon and its inverted gnosis yields something palpable as well as unattainable. What is being held is the vortex of painting’s mystery going back to Lascaux and ancient burial paintings. Carralero rationalizes her interest in medieval and Eastern European religious painting as a retreat from the unbreathable decay of contemporary pictorial practice as a general tendency. Here the renewal of painting is only possible through the sensible dimension of an integrative imagination. Hence, to live in the present, in the hour Stevens’ simile, is also to dwell in the flashes of painting’s general economy of sensible forms. A new history of freedom can take this as its point of departure; that is, to posit no longer the social functionalization of norms and rules for relations, but to expand the sensible space of the innumerable symbols of existence. 

In the well-known essay “The Pathology of Freedom”, Günther Anders says something significant about painting’s imperturbable nature: “Painting that fixes the aspect of a man or a thing in a picture seems as it were to repeat the act by which each thing is already condemned to itself” [2]. This “being-precisely-this” could be taken as the closure of contingency in relation to all possible forms; although it is also painting in which the contingency of the non-visible in the visible what arranges the possibility of what is precisely absolute contingent as absolute in each picture. This is why in great pictures we tend to feel that the consummation of form reveals as a necessary tradition that, by virtue of being thus, it assume the thisness of the particular rendition. This commitment that weighs heavy in each of Carralero’s paintings is a testamentary to the imperturbable even if we are already entering (or already in it) the eclipsing world of the mystery of the senses, a world that can no longer see the redeeming and unassuming vision that painting can offer.

Notes 
1. Henri Focillon. Elogio de la mano (UNAM, 2010), 131-132.

2. Günther Anders. “The Pathology of Freedom: An Essay on Non-Identification”, Deleuze Studies, Vol.3. 2009, 283.

Acies animi pictura. On Victoria Cirlot’s Taüll (2023). by Gerardo Muñoz

Victoria Cirlot’s vibrant short book, Taüll: liturgia y visión en los ábsides románicos catalanes (Mudito&Co, 2023) focuses on the well-known apse fresco panels of the Romanesque Saint Climent Church (Lleida) dating back to the twelfth century now housed in the Museo Nacional de Arte de Catalunya (MNAC), whose central figure is a Maesteis domini elevated to representation of the highest celestial cosmos. In another sense, Taüll should also be read (and perhaps the obligatory accent here is necessary) as a synthesis of Cirlot’s own work on the theological infusion of visuality and what it means to “see” and “being seeing” in a world that strives for legibility. Cirlot has no ‘presentist’ anxieties about the Romanesque period – its iconographic and overtly enigmatic depiction – but it is not difficult to think of the Christian temple as an aesthetic laboratory, or artist studio, in which the liturgical dimension functioned not much so much as a private space for the faithful, but rather as a site of encounters and vital experience (Cirlot 11). 

The liturgical performance depended on visual arrangement that opened visions of the inner sense, which Cirlot quoting Saint Augustine calls acies anime — transcendence through a sensible awakening that encompassed all the senses. Following Pavel Floresnky in his study about the Church as the synthesis of the arts, Cirlot attempts to portray the impossible experience at Tüll as the site of the life of the spirit; that is, where the spirit is transformed and released (Cirlot 12). Before there is acclamation and synthesis, there is an unfathomable experience facilitated by the liturgical imagery which is a passage or a preparation of sorts. 

It is almost impossible for us today – situated at the threshold of the autonomization of the arts and the division of its practices – to grasp the antecedent image (imago) through figures of what will only later be seen. Cirlot quotes Saint Paul to anchor this difficult chiasmatic movement of veiling-unveiling: “Now we see through a mirror, an enigma, but later we will see face to face (Cor.1.13) (Cirlot 22). Is the pictorial unveiling, or rather veiling, the juxtaposition of the image in space what will ultimately solve the enigma of unmediated appearance? And could appearance be released without its dependence on the mystery that prescribes the image making and destruction well into the totalization of modern pseudos at the art of depiction? There are conscious echos of Carchia’s thinking (in my reading of Cirlot, that is), which I think help to grant a bit more breathing space, as it were, to Cirlot’s unelaborated suggestion that “Pero la pintura es el fruto, no de una percepción sensible, sino del ojo visualiza eso que tiene que ser despertado en la interacción de los sentidos físicos” (Cirlot 23). 

To paint, or the painterly activity, is the gathering of an inner vision, where there is no more separation between the autonomous senses (visions, touch, flavor). Cirlot notes how the detailing of the querubin angel having small eyes painting on their hands would confirm this thesis. The movement of the hands registers a vision that touches the proximity of the specular Glory of transcendence. Following Henry Corbin, Cirlot can remind us that the angel for the mystical tradition is an entity whose “being is only vision” (Cirlot 28). In turn, the all-seeing angel is not a bird’s view (I guess today we will also say a drone commanded from a computing application) that has total vision over the terrestrial grid; it is more a vision that is able to see each thing — given that his divine vision he can see God in everything, and things in themselves because the painterly eye can only look outwards through the inner eye of the heart (Cirlot 38). In fact, the heart’s eye is a retreat from the world of countable and visual things, as transcendence becomes the mere contact of the senses with the divine. 

Part of the difficulty of grasping what is taking place at the Saint Climent of Taüll apse resides in a gesture that is the inversion of pictorial verisimilitude, if one is to take up Michael Fried’s thesis in Absorption and Theatricality (1980) as a reduction of disenchanted pictorial representation. In other words, the pictorial manifestation at Tüll is neither theatrical nor figural absorption for the spectators, but it was rather an experience with the liturgical mystery that strived in the liberation of the soul at the uncharted height of God itself (Cirlot 40).  And perhaps of being a mode, among many, with the presence of God in things, and things and names as already expressing the unavowable nature of the divine. Cirlot’s thesis gains traction and depth  at this point, since the central task of pictorial creation at Tüll is to find the means of granting visible to what must remain invisible (the Holy Trinity and the Eucharist mysterium) that breaks away from the implementation of imitatio naturae (Cirlot 44). This also speaks as to why Cirlot, with prudential reasons, never speaks of an aesthetic sublime that this pictorial commitment with the theos and experience clearly appears to reject. In the sublime construction, sense has been subordinated to the negative position, by which the return of representation will reveal itself in its erasure. 

The seemingly absorptive theatricality does not stand up to the highest music of the aspirations at Tüll. Once again Florensky appears as a central interpretive key for Cirlot: the iconomic and atmospheric opening of Romanesque art frees contemplation to a degree in which vision and the outside of life entangle to such a degree that no autonomization of the ‘aesthetic experience’ can formalize the sensorial gathering of the invisible upwards where “el alma no podía descansar”, or where the soul knows no rest. One can also recall Kurt Badt when writing about Constable meteorological landscape: such opening in the picture is the true organ of sentiment. But “that world is long gone” – the world of visual liturgical at Taüll – concludes Cirlot, and something similar could be said of the practice of painting. The minimal lesson at Taüll is as simple as it is difficult: any access to the world today requires to divest from the hand of technē so that the hand of pictura can take hold of the fleeting mystery of a life experienced. Such is the enduring vital vision at Taüll.

From the beginning (after a Berlin meeting). by Gerardo Muñoz

I am sure that others will draw their point of inflection, but for me the stakes of a recent Berlin meeting (already commented here) was laid out during the very first session when one of the “non-participants” – let’s call it like this to embrace the spirit of the meeting – spoke audaciously about the current predicament: there has been a thorough loss, nothing but defeat that is both irreversible and consummated at the level of subjectivity. Some of us remembered that T.J. Clark more than a decade ago in the pages of New Left Review took a similar position and was grilled for it. This tends to happen to any gesture that dares to push thought forward. In any case, the non-participant went further and called for a “new beginning”, a start from scratch, alluding to the underrated Revolution and counterrevolutionary in Germany (1851) by F. Engels, in which in fact this language is very much present. Engels wrote in the first article (the book is a collection of pieces published anonymously in the wake of the 1848 revolutions): “If, then, we have been beaten, we have nothing else to do but to begin again from the beginning. And, fortunately, the probably very short interval of rest which is allowed us between the close of the first and the beginning of the second act of the movement, gives us time for a very necessary piece of work: the study of the causes that necessitated both the late outbreak and its defeat; causes that are not to be sought for in the accidental efforts, talents, faults, errors, or treacheries of some of the leaders, but in the general social state and conditions of existence of each of the convulsed nations” [1]. 

Of course, “social or national conditions” are not “trapped in amber”, and I think that today one cannot take the national, local, or even regional contexts as sufficient to explain failure. The failure is civilizational, and raising the question of the “beginning” (or new beginnings) has a heideggerian overtone that is not facetious, but it is consistent with any exploration in the quadrant of critical-metaphysical commitments for thought (infrapolitical reflection has thematized it) [2]. This elaboration could be very well idiosyncratic, but I think it provides “grip” to the problem by not making concessions to well known junior partners of abstract politicization and ideological backlogging that like the Tortoise in the parable still fantasize with a breakthrough via yet another “textualist interpretation”; one more sophisticated mapping of political ecology or a collective hegemonic political theory department; or even a policy redistribution of a new Green Deal towards a new accumulation regime [3]. Perhaps they themselves do not believe any of the lies – for my part I think that they do not – and they endorse it for the sake of “bad faith”. But just in case, I think that raising the threshold at the highest point (ontotheology, civilization, the constitution of the polis) is a litmus test of separation against the new secular priests. These negative conditions already open a door to go through.

But there are also positive conditions for this “new beginning”: reopening the ethical intensity in retreat of political subjection; rejection of public chatter and freeing fugitive marranos; elaborating strong descriptions of the metamorphoses of domination; and avoiding the “revolt” as a compensatory category for of ius revolutionis in the epoch of real subsumption [4]. At the end of the day, it should not be forgotten that an-archy also means the turbulence of phenomena, in which every fragment moves in the direction of experience poking through the objectification of the world. This is “inapparent”, but it is for this very reason what is fundamental and invariant. 

The ‘new beginning’ in the wake of collapse can only conquer life to traverse the hunger of meaning that propels the fictional machine of ongoing nihilism, as Giorgio Cesarano warned. There is no historical or moral beginning; there is only the beginning in which existence is able to expand the originary accumulation of a sensible ethos. And it is at the very end, or almost at the end of everything, that true beginning commences. Whoever does not start from the beginning is either understudying the epoch, or mastering the evermore painful social roles. It is only in the direction towards beginning that can avoid the crushing weight of the post-neolithic condition (Métraux) that calls for a divestment of what reality can contrive for us. 

Notes 

1. Fredrich Engels. Revolution and counter-revolution in Germany (FLP, 1977), 3.

2. Alberto Moreiras, “La cuarta vía” (2022): “¿No se hace necesario hoy pensar, por lo tanto, otro comienzo del pensamiento, proponer otro comienzo que nos sustraiga al peligro del colapso mismo del mundo?  Quienes se oponen a ello, llamándolo arrogancia o presunción, llamando veneno a la propuesta misma, no son para mí ya distinguibles del avestruz que hunde la cabeza en la arena al verse atacada”. https://infraphilosophy.com/2022/02/18/la-cuarta-via-entre-parmenides-y-la-obligacion-reflexiva-conferencia-para-la-universidad-de-arizona-spanish-and-portuguese-department-borrador-3/

3. Zeit Der Ökologie. Das neue Akkumulationsregime (2024).

4. Conspiracist Manifesto (Semiotexte, 2023), 341.

Two observations on the Non Kongress bulletins. by Gerardo Muñoz

I have read with genuine interest the five bulletins put out by the organizers of the Non-Kongress meeting, and it is only fair that I put some preliminary comments with no other purpose than to highlight a few points (I take it that other will have theirs, and I am looking forward to this discussion). To start somewhere, I will first say that I am fond of the open balance sheet format that puts on the table hot-button issues without exhausting all them. The starting point is broad and clear: our current predicament is one marked by the collapse of the ground of politics and the total absorption of politics into a social-moral designs. These days I also come from drafting a preliminary – an in a way a bit autobiographical – balance sheet of the last decade of (failed) debates in contemporary Spanish leftist politics (2014-2024), which allows for reflection of a contemporary sequence, draw a few conclusions, and move on. If we do this something has already change, and we have avoided the anxiety of feeling that everything must be said. The momentary arousal provided by rhetorical completion pays the price of immobility and confiscates the truly important thing: what will never be thoroughly said, or stated only indirectly, is the condition for any true communication of thought to have a chance even if it rarely happens. This aspiration is sincere and from its inception it already puts university discourse (and its experts in the intellectual division of labor) in trance. And this trance opens a region that allows for something to emerge in a new light sin sanata.

The five-installment bulletin seems to provide two general movements: an analytical sketch of current domination and several conditions for “refusal” or “exodus” under the generic designation of “destitution”. On the first level (the analytics of domination) the bulletin suggests that the configuration of power is organized as an imbrication between the scientific medical apparatus, the expansion of infrastructures and digitalization, and an administration of morality as stratification of values in social optimization that were effectively accelerated in the wake of the Covid19 policy directives. And it is also obvious that what also binds these three different strategies and domains is the administration of the hollow and the fictitious subject as the last subject of nihilism (nothingness as unconstrained force) for ecological catastrophe. Now it is utterly clear that – in aftermath of the gran designs of productive modernization and formal labor productivity – the true and ultimate objective of capital is the world; and, more concretely, the human species’ exposure to worldly phenomena. Hence, there is an implicit, not totally fleshed out, latency in the bulletins which one could situate under the turn towards territoriality, location, place, and fragmentation of the earth. Of course, there is ample risk here to assume that locality (communes, community, autonomous zone) is just an exception to planetary unification that labors negatively for the ongoing destruction; a sort of ‘partisan’ Benedictine community under the shadow of Empire. This is why it is important that Hugh Farrell reminds that any territorial program can no longer be unliteral and must be opened to the contamination of the experiences must incorporate play and openness to its outside [1].

This is touching the limit of the defunct strategy of occupation in which the spatial unity accomplishes the self-police work through the veiling of the good conscious subjective militancy, as I recently also saw in the Pro-Palestinian university encampments in the US [2]. More than a decade ago, Alberto Moreiras warned about the ontotheological determination of locationality as a fold of identity, and he called for a “dirty atopianism” against the allure of compensatory critical regionalisms, and which we can connect (with all the caveats necessary) to the form of countercommunity and the difficult problem of the non-site of the khorā that marks an unbreachable limit to the totalization of the ground of the polis and the political [3]. Life or existence at the end of the day is not “this body” or “this thought”; it is how this inclination connects to the surround of the world. And here is yet another problem, which is delicate as it is difficult to untangle: the need to for a reinvention of a concept after the destruction of its civilization diffuse uses in the Western tradition: “freedom”. We do not need Shelley to tell us, but it is always useful to recall it again: “…the state of probation in which we now reside is merely a preparatory stage in which….to fit us for a more exalted state of existence, is not the deprivation of liberty the deepest, the severest of injuries?” [4].

It is only now that we can understand that liberty of the subject – and the political subject of liberty – was a ragged garment when compared to the freedom of the surround — think paintings of Cézanne as a gesture of gathering to “declare the essence of the world to be existing together, a mutual self-supporting and carrying of things”, states an eminent art historian [5]. Political language, or the intensification of language through the lexicon of politics is too vulgar to do the work and the heavy lifting; we have to be capable, I think, to look elsewhere (say, painting) for claims of a transfigurative sense of what it means to grasp this notion of liberty that takes us to the very beginning. It is a difficult problem, no doubt, but against immediacy, the sensorial must be expanded beyond its commonplace allocation into the latent or full-fledged central conflict. Those images are also too poor of world; even if we know that the world “can have no temporal view of things…the world pass into nothing in the very multiplicity of its instancing” [6].

The fifth bulletin calls for an “ethical ground”, but immediately passes to claim a “politics of destitution”, which is overtly anchored in the recent cycle of “experiential revolts” as stable instances of this passing world that does not succumb to conclusion. I guess it all depends how much weight – or how deep down – one is willing to exert on this figure. Or how extensive the figure is — for someone like Rodrigo Karmy, the revolt is the turbulence of imagination itself. But the question remains as well: does not revolt, as prefiguration of a politics to come, or as a politics of destitution, run the risk of assuming a general central framework of entering into the world? If the precondition for the accumulation of freedom of the surround is given by the belligerent loss of fear of solitude, then this could mean, among other things, that the revolt does not stand as the exclusive theater of opposition or refusal [7]. The freeing of the instancing of the world means that there are multiple ways in which existence deals with the increasing pain at the end of social cohesion. The end of the Social bond entails the intensification of pain as the fundamental stimmung of our times.

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Notes

1.Hugh Ferrell. “The Strategy of Composition”, Ill Will, January 2023: https://illwill.com/composition

2. Gerardo Muñoz. “Reporte desde Columbia: Gaza contra el encierro”, Revista Disenso 2024: https://revistadisenso.com/reporte-desde-columbia/

3. Alberto Moreiras. The Exhaustion of Difference (Duke U Press, 2001) 23.

4. Percy Shelley. “Poetical Essay on the Existing State of Things” (1811): https://poeticalessay.bodleian.ox.ac.uk

5. Kurt Badt. The Art of Cézanne (University of California Press, 1965).

6. Cormac McCarthy. The Crossing (1995), 154.

7. Moses Dobruska. “How it All Began: The Strasbourg Theses”, Ill Will 2023: https://illwill.com/how-it-all-began