“ Here one is tempted to claim that the most radical dimension of the Freudian death drive provides the key to how we are to read the Christian “let the dead bury their dead”: what the death drive tries to obliterate is not biological life, but the afterlife - it endeavours to kill the lost object the second time, not in the sense of mourning (accepting the loss through symbolization), but in a more radical sense of obliterating the very symbolic texture, the letter in which the spirit of the dead survives.
“ The problem of anxiety is a nodal point at which the most various and important questions converge, a riddle whose solution would be bound to throw a light on our whole mental existence.
We decadents have frayed nerves. Everything, or almost everything, wounds us, and what doesn’t will likely be irritating. That’s why we make sure no one ever touches us.
Tiqqun, “Introduction to Civil War”(via forgottenness)
This. I relate to this(via planetsedge)
When things become too close, ‘reality’ starts to fragment.
“ Both neurosis and psychosis are…the expression of a rebellion on the part of the id against the external world, of its unwillingness - or if one prefers, its incapacity - to adapt itself to the exigencies of reality.
“ Lear’s criticism is justified: Freud indeed repeatedly succumbs to the temptation to elide the nonteleological negativity of the pleasure principle’s malfunction- ing by transforming these glitches and short-circuits into evidence of another principled teleology, that is, the positive content of a shadowy, hidden undercurrent following its own distinct aims and purposes in ways that pull away from the directions normally pursued for the sake of gratifying contentment. But, as Lear might be willing to grant, despite engaging in this sort of hypostatization, Freud acknowledges and describes, in Beyond the Pleasure Principle, the phenomenon of the plea sure principle’s own dynamics and mechanisms leading to its autointerruption. With regard to the repetition compulsions tormenting his traumatized patients, he hypothesizes that these sufferers’ recurrent mnemic revisitations of their traumas result from psychical functions working in the service of the pleasure principle. Through repetition, this principle struggles to tame and domesticate experi- ences of overwhelming pain, to inscribe the unsettling traces of these experiences within the economy of calm, homeostatic equilibrium characterizing tolerable psychical existence. But, the whole pathological problem is that this tactic doesn’t work. Reliving the nightmares of traumas again and again doesn’t end up gradually dissipating (or, as Freud himself would put it, “abreacting” or “working-through”) the horrible, terrifying maelstrom of negative affects they arouse. Instead, the preparatory labors of repetition dictated by the pleasure principle have the effect of repeatedly retraumatizing the psyche caught in looping movements supposedly preparing for the reestablishment of this same principle’s disrupted dominance. Obviously, this strategy for coping with trauma is a failing one. And yet, the psyche gets stuck stubbornly pursuing it nonetheless, not managing to sensibly and adaptively abandon this vain Sisyphean activity in favor of other more promising maneuvers.3
“ As long as it’s the question of the good, there’s no problem; our own and our neighbor’s are of the same material. Saint Martin shares his cloak, and a great deal is made of it. Yet it is after all a simple question of training; material is by its very nature made to be disposed of—it belongs to the other as much as it belongs to me. We are no doubt touching a primitive requirement in the need to be satisfied there, for the beggar is naked. But perhaps over and above that need to be clothed, he was begging for something else, namely, that Saint Martin either kill him or fuck him. In any encounter there’s a big difference in meaning between the response of philanthropy and that of love.
“ In a letter to Einstein, as well as in his New Introductory Lecures to Psychoanalysis, Freud proposed as a utopian solution for the deadlocks of humanity the “the dictatorship of reason”- men should unite and together subordinate and master their irrational unconscious forces. The problem here, of course, lies with the very distinction between reason and the unconscious: on the one hand, the Freudian unconscious is “rational,” discursive, having noting to do with a reservoir of dark primitive instincts; on the other hand, reason is for Freud always close to “rationlization,” to finding (false) reasons for a cause whose true nature is disavowed. The intersection between reason and drive is best signalled by the fact that Freud uses the same formulation for both: the voice of reason or of the drive is often silent, slow, but it persists forever. This intersection is our only hope.