The minimum real unit is not the word, the idea, the concept or the signifier, but the assemblage. It is always an assemblage that produces utterances. Utterances do not have at their cause a subject, which would act as a subject of enunciation, any more than they are related to subjects as subjects of utterances. The utterance is a product of an assemblage – which is always collective, which brings into play within us and outside us populations, multiplicities, territories, becomings, affects, events. The proper name does not designate a subject, but something which happens, at least between two terms which are not subjects, but agents, elements. Proper names are not names of persons, but of peoples and tribes, flora and fauna, military operations or typhoons, collectives, limited companies and production studios. The author is a subject of enunciation but the writer—who is not an author—is not. The writer invents assemblages starting from assemblages which have invented him, he makes one multiplicity pass into another.
Which makes me think, What does literature gain from forcibly ending, or rather by performing some kind of interruptus upon opacity's flow? And by that I mean, what is the meaning of the virtual rolelessness for the writer that Deleuze portrays? I think of those Aztec priests in the Springtime cutting with obsidian knives the sternum bones of male and female youth and drawing out the still beating heart, that assemblage par excellence, and that unashamed urge to reveal as image the actual enigma of a thing which cannot be named but only honored, or rather, shown. Indra Kagis McEwen interprets the ancient usage of the term techne as 'a letting appear', so then, like a hunting dog and mad bull, sniffed right to the reeking crack only to paw with head down at the import of its narrow way, Aztec (as techne_/ us/ it..
So I guess, in my country rat sort of way, "The minimum real unit is not the word, the idea, the concept or the signifier, but the assemblage." is the beating heart of a new theory of the grotesque, or the still-beating
heart of the old theory..
But so as not to cloud the subject with anything resembling a belief in objectivity, let's re-ruminate in the continental way, so as to make a kind of Aztec prayer for continuity.
What kind of explanatory filler would I need to use to connect
The minimum real unit is not the word, the idea, the concept or the signifier, but the assemblage.It is always an assemblage that produces utterances. Utterances do not have at their cause a subject, which would act as a subject of enunciation, any more than they are related to subjects as subjects of utterances. The utterance is a product of an assemblage – which is always collective, which brings into play within us and outside us populations, multiplicities, territories, becomings, affects, events.
to the Pythagorean claim that
"everything is intelligent"
which in my own weird sense of things points to a discussion of structuralism and the vicissitudes of aconceptuality ala deterritorialization, or rather displacement..
and as always dialectic. (Intelligence itself is a stupid idea.)
As we farm the plants, so are we being farmed by them
The structural and the conceptual, like two views of a single event frame.
The Grotesque then, as a minor literature in the Deleuzian sense, would be
the merging of those views, but that merging was accomplished long ago
as poetry, or is it art?
what part?
Oh tree
witch gross
f-rom h-ell
