Date: Tue, 5 Jan 1999 00:49:46 -0500 (EST)
From: Orpheus <cw_duff-AT-alcor.concordia.ca>
Subject: Mona the Devil


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Mona waswriting her thesis. She was half-way through when she was through.
It was a wasteland of academic jewels. and suffering fools was intolerant
to her. She knew wisdom was a golden bowl.

	and so she read:


	Nietzsche was a professor. Now isnt that nice? I love professors,
essp. the profs of desire. I love all of them I love Ivanhoe. I hoe and
hoe the professor ofdesire. 

	I and on the other hand am not a professor. But a poet. A poet who
lvoes philosophy and its loves.On my other hand I am. I am. I am the am of
the other hand. 


	so:

	And philosophy's always caught between an anger with the way
things are and the serenity it brings. - Negotiations ... Philosophy may
have its battles ...but they're mock battles.Not being a power, philosophy
can't battle with the powers that be, but it fights a war without
battles....

	:she saw that In Dadamana Deleuze's book. Some book . Another
book. Then she went back to Lacan. Itwas hard work readin that stuff. Very
hard alll that marvelous elaborate baroque language..
Words like molecular machine. Ah now that was sweet. And sour too.

	she saw:

	the aim is not to answer questions, it's to get out, to get out of
it. -- Dialogues -  p.1

	she felt: Guattari's kiss acriss-cross the stars and starts.

	What language leprosy could speak that. ?Over her questioned
marked selves. She had to go into the langauge to go out of it.She was a
theoretican poet. Now that was nice. A nicens new id-identity. A love den.
A low love den of sex and pots and and. Guess the rest.


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	Fictions of Deleuze and Guattari
	Clifford Duffy -AT-copyright 1998.