Date: Wed, 18 Apr 2001 21:19:17 -0500 From: Mary Murphy&Salstrand <ericandmary-AT-earthlink.net> Subject: The parasite steve: before we download our minds unto the hard drive, consider what SHE has to say: "note that the complexity of that intelligence exceeds that of the most sophicated logical systems, since it's another type of thing entirely. As a material ensemble, the human body hinders the separability of this intelligence, hinders its exile and therefore survival. But at the same time the body, our phenomenological, mortal, perceiving body is the only available analogon for thinking a certain complexity of thought." (p.22 "The Inhuman") This is not noise, but perhaps the attempt to articulate the noise, to make manifest what the communication tend to hide, repress, obliterate. Or as Don DeLillo says: "We simply walk toward the sliding doors. Waves and radiation. Look at how well-lighted everything is. The place is sealed off, self-contained. It is timeless. Another reason why I think of Tibet. Dying is an art in Tibet. A priest walks in, sits down, tells the weeping relatives to get out and has the room sealed. Doors, windows sealeed. He has serious business to see to. Chants, numberology, horoscopes, recitations. Here we don't die, we shop. But the difference is less marked than you think." (White Noise p.38) We are surrounded by noise. And this noise is inextinguishable. It is outside - it is the world itself - and it is inside, produced by our living body. We are the noises of the world, we cannot close our door to their reception, and we evolve, rolling in this incalculable swell. We are hot, burning with life; and the hearths of this temporary esctasy send out a truceless tumult from their innumerable functions." (The Parasite - Serres p126)
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