OVERTURE:
"Il consenso è divenuto un valore desueto, e sospetto; lo stesso non si può dire per la giustizia.
Occorre dunque pervenire ad un'idea e ad una pratica di giustizia che non siano legate a quelle del consenso."

J.F. Lyotard

SVOLGIMENTO
mi sembra che questa frase calzi a pennello alla nostra triste e preoccupante situazione attuale.

Alzare gli standard di inumanità, strategia vecchia ma sempre funzionale del potere più ipocrita, quello che sottrae se stesso alla propria giustizia.

CONCLUSIONE
"Se si tollera qualcosa, diventa sopportabile e, poco tempo dopo, anche normale."
I. Zangwill

Tolleranza zero contro chi vuol farci spegnere il cervello.

Tieni accesi i tuoi neuroni: leggi Diario

Love then screams in my own throat; I am the Jesuve, the filthy parody of the torrid and blinding sun.

Let's consider Danny Boyle's Sunshine as both a characteristically exaggerated response to environmental crisis and an extended visual pun on the term 'Enlightenment.' The genre is easily the one most in tune with my lizard brain, sci-fi horror, combining an alien menace, cosmic scale, and the latent erotics of the military-industrial complex. The premise is suitably elegant: an elite crew of astronauts have to rejuvenate the dying sun by penetrating it with a huge bomb, thus saving the human race from extinction. There's a jingoism to this film that is no less present for its lack of national identification or corresponding ideological threat. It delivers the jingoism of crisis, its stance resolutely 'post-ideological,' a fantasy wherein the reactionary instincts of the nation-state are subordinated to the non-negotiable reality of impending destruction (though memorialized, aesthetically, by the pretty faces of the globalized cast). Humanity can then be reduced to its more cinema-friendly, individual-universal 'weaknesses,' such as lust for power, envy, moral feeling, and susceptibility to the sublime. All of which prove themselves to be liabilities in the crisis situation, if forgivable as sources of dramatic suspense, bathos, etc. A more 'objective,' classier...right, the UK, post-9/11 version of Armageddon.

So do we then say Sunshine belongs with the recent spate of non-U.S. westerns, the parent genre to a certain dominant mode of science fiction? Naught Thought thinks so, in this piece understanding the already post-national history of the European Enlightenment as one with the history of colonial expansion and imperial violence. The obvious touchstone in contemporary philosophy is with Jean-François Lyotard's essay "Can Thought go on without a Body?" where the extinction of the human body is equated with the death of the sun, the absolute limit of thought. Bodiless thought is not without material conditions, but is also not reducible to preserved remains or combinatoric repetitions, the recorded memories which might manifest in, say, a satellite that outlasts the collapse of the solar system. Artificial intelligence, Lyotard claims, cannot be reducible to a program. It must be able to transgress its own limits, must carry some immanent differend, a complex, a libidinal motor for drives, desires, will. It must suffer. Thought, like the marauding cowboy, must have spurs.

Lyotard's philosophical myth can be read as a gnomic restatement of the question of 'late capitalism' -- how does expansion continue in a post-ontological (post-national) universe? More or less rhetorical, its function is to reinforce the truth of its presuppositions. Post-American westerns and western-infused sci-fi serve as good popular counterparts: anti-heroes slay evildoers in spectacular fashion despite existential ennui. But the intrusion of horror complicates things somewhat. The inversion of the western, horror consists of variations on home invasion rather than the quest. Its villains tend toward the abstract. Like obvious influences 2001, Solaris, and Alien, Sunshine's setting is a 'haunted house in space,' a seemingly familiar structure infected by its vast, unfamiliar outside.

Though the sun's five billion years premature decrepitude is never explained within the film, on the DVD commentary we're informed that an invisible force of matter gets trapped by the mass of the sun and begins to eat its way out. We're also told that because of our sun's relatively middling mass, this could never actually happen. Despite the realism of the hardware and the performances, then, the film is really closer to a thought experiment with set parameters, one of those 'push the fatty or pull the lever' things, than to traditional 'speculative fiction.' And unlike conventional horror there is little mystery even for the characters -- the premise is, not exactly established, but asserted beforehand: "If the sun dies, so do we." Lyotard's question is answered with a simple "no."

Aesthetically Sunshine is wonderful when the sun is front and center -- CGI actually works in space -- and enjoyable in that modern, overbearing way when its not. Though like many mainstream movies these days it demands you think it intelligent for quoting the 1970s, and in the end a third-act slide into Event Horizon territory ruins all hope for respectability: after a series of moral dilemmas where the crew makes increasingly irrational blunders deviating from 'the mission' (trying to save the crew of the previous vessel is the first fateful misstep), they find themselves stalked by a crazy speechifying Romantic villain, in the Kurtz/Pinhead vein:

I am Pinbacker, Commander of the Icarus One. We have abandoned our mission. Our star is dying. All our science. All our hopes, our... our dreams, are foolish! In the face of this, we are dust, nothing more. Unto this dust, we return. When he chooses for us to die, it is not our place to challenge God.

Pinbacker's God-given task is to 'enjoy,' once and for all, the limit that the crew is determined to transgress. This limit, the border between the human world tamed by Enlightenment reason and its conditional beyond, is transcendentalized, the products of the former -- organized life, technoscience, the 'modern world' -- understood as a gnostic veneer over the Truth. After all, death, the horizon of experience, makes life itself intrinsically unknowable regardless of what form it takes. "Resembles Life what once was held of Light, / Too ample in itself for human sight?" But the significance of the 'beyond's' effect on the 'here' is reversible: either plenitude or negation of meaning. In Lyotard's understanding, if thought dies with the sun, then "everything is dead already." Pinbacker, on the other hand, aims to preserve the dialectic of human and inhuman knowledge by halting its progress, thus sacrificing the human species in exchange for an eternal moment of personal transcendence.

Pinbacker's wish for 'totalitarian' transcendence is countered by the moments of selfless, hopeful transcendence experienced by (some members of) the heroic crew. A moral lesson: being obliterated by the sun while saving people is just as awesome as being obliterated by the sun while exterminating them. Quite apart from the romance of Enlightenment, the film's obscure object of desire, is the persistence of certain ethical codes. If the crew had stuck to the mission parameters (if they hadn't been swayed by moral sentiment to try and save the previous crew) they would have all survived. We are reminded over and over again that 'transcendence,' a category which seems to include more and more each day, is theft, from man and reason. A delusion, a drug trip, a private spectacle. A luxury. The last shot is the homestead on Earth, saved by what they will never know. In a time of certain crisis, an elect is permitted to live like heroes so that we don't have to. For us the sensible thing is to follow orders. 'They' will never know, but we will, all for the price of a ticket. Certain crisis. Would extinction matter if there were no one there to enjoy it?

Allow me to start at the beginning: I am not a philosopher. I don't even really like philosophy. I fared well enough in undergrad philosophy lectures and recitations, but that was thanks to my overflowing tongue and not my keen understanding.

Yet despite all this, I voluntarily read Smith's introduction to postmodern thought on a recent vacation. And what's more, I liked it.

If the copious footnotes and references are any indication, Smith owns his subject. But he's not just an academic writing for his fellows. As Who's Afraid of Postmodernism? deftly shows, Smith is quite capable of making difficult philosophy understandable for the average Christian. And that's not all: he also makes unbelieving philosophy understandable without using blanket judgments that crudely debunk without first seeking to understand.

Smith consciously walks in the footsteps of St. Augustine and Francis Schaeffer, men who exercised biblical discernment whether they were welcoming or critiquing the philosophies of their day. As he explains the thinking of his subjects (Derrida, Lyotard, and Foucault), he treats them with respect, often pointing out how these non-Christians saw more clearly than many of their Christian counterparts. But he is not without criticism himself. For example, when faced with Foucault's puzzling presentation of power, Smith is quick to point out that the French philosopher was more interested in understanding men's behavior than in correcting it. These and other insights are helpful throughout, separating Smith from "pop-philosophers" who are often too quick to welcome and too slow to condemn.

Yet, I find the close to this book troubling. After four chapters of explanation and exegesis, Smith turns to put forward his own form of postmodernism: radical orthodoxy. And it seems that Smith would have us believe that our calling today as Christians is to be "properly postmodern." Forgive me for a semantic argument, but why should that be our goal? Shouldn't we rather seek to be, say, biblical? Such a goal may not be catchy (or alliterative), but Smith's "properly postmodern" aim doesn't make much sense. It's seems on par with me trying to be "properly Caucasian."

More importantly, Smith's terminology and picture of "radical orthodoxy" seems to derive more from Paris and popular culture than Scripture. Outlined on pages 143-146, Smith's ideal church service has a number of biblical and traditional elements (and a couple Scripture references thrown in for good measure), but it's more concerned with being "postmodern" than biblical. And that's not to say that I dislike anything in Smith's liturgy. It's simply that if we postmodern Christians are going to be seriously Christian—or truly members of God's Church—then we should be concerned first and foremost with being biblical.

I'm all for understanding postmodernism, and for plundering the Egyptians (or in the case, Paris). But if we make something like "proper postmodernism" our goal, then in fifty years we'll find ourselves in the same place that fundamentalist Christians find themselves now. Instead of dying and leaving behind strong Christian communities that are always reforming, we'll be frustrated by our inability to take root in anything but shallow, rocky ground that can barely sustain us, let alone our children and their children.

Dass nun die Lebenswelt als eine die Kunst entgrenzende, wertvolle Andersheit angesehen wird, ist wohl seit Alfred Jarry und Antonin Artaud, spätestens seit den radikalen Selbstversuchen der Wiener Aktionisten akzeptiert. Und auch in die Musik hat das Moment der Lebenswelt Einzug gehalten, zuallererst sicherlich durch die konkrete Musik und den damit verbundenen Fieldrecordings. Ein ganz besonderen Weg solch eines die Kunst entgrenzenden Vorgangs hat dabei Christina Kubisch mit ihren "Electric Walks" eingeschlagen - mit speziellen Kopfhörern macht Kubisch das hörbar, was uns sonst klanglich verborgen bleibt: die elektromagnetischen Felder von Transformatoren, Computern, Handys, elektronischen Diebstahlsicherungen, Lichtsystemen etc. Es gerät so das in den Focus künstlerischer Aktivität, was seit Adorno und schließlich Lyotard als Figur des Undarstellbaren bekannt ist, also das, was eigentlich nicht in das Bewusstsein gerät, weil es einerseits das Erkenntnis- und Wahrnehmungsvermögen des Subjekts übersteigt, weil es andererseits gesellschaftlichen Repressionen unterliegt. Gerade ersterer Gesichtspunkt wird besonders dann interessant, betrachtet man ihn im Kontext der Entwicklung der bildenden Kunst. Denn ähnlich wie die modernen Maler entdeckten, dass sie anfangen mussten, Bilder zu schaffen, die die natürliche Wahrnehmung übersteigen und die insbesondere die Photographie nicht darstellen kann, um genau jene Topoi aushebeln zu können, die die Faszination der Photographie ausmachen - Linearperspektive, exakte Wiedergabequalität der Farbtöne, adäquate Bildproportionen etc. -, so entdeckt auch Kubisch, dass sie genau jenes thematisch werden lassen muss, was sich den perzeptiven Voraussetzungen des Menschen zunächst widersetzt.

Diese Hörbarmachung des eigentlich Unhörbaren gewinnt ihren Reiz dabei gerade durch die Art der Klangquellen, denn all diese Klangquellen sind solche Klangquellen der Lebenswelt, dass sie in einer je verschiedenen Dienlichkeit und Funktion für den Menschen stehen und somit im Sinne Heideggers als "Zeug" zu bestimmen wären. Nun ist ja gerade die Kunst seit Kant oftmals durch ihre Zwecklosigkeit bestimmt worden. Indem Kubisch aber eine Wahrnehmungsprothese verwendet, vermag sie die Funktionshaftigkeit des "Zeugs" zu dekontextualisieren und in die Zweckfreiheit künstlerischer Wirksamkeit umzugestalten. Deuten lässt sich dies freilich auch so: dadurch, dass wir bei einem "Electric Walk" eine beständige Klangerzeugung erleben, weist Kubisch uns durch die Entgrenzung der Funktionshaftigkeit in die Funktionslosigkeit darauf hin, dass zum einen unsere Lebenswelt von Dienlichkeit nur so durchwuchert ist, dass zum anderen es aber durch diese Omnipräsenz des "Zeugs" notwendig ist, diesem etwas abzugewinnen und abzulauschen, was uns als Kunst zu Gehör kommt. Das Rauschen wird zur Botschaft, das Zuhandene wandelt sich zum Vorhandenen: Kubisch lässt die Dinge wieder Dinge sein.

So werden im amerikanischen Noise-Underground künstlerische Resultate erzielt, die musiktheoretisch mit dem Begriff „Drone“ oder eher noch mit dem Ausdruck „Wall Noise“ gefasst, für die aber in ihrer ästhetischen Konzeption ebenso Ansätze minimalistischen Denkens fruchtbar gemacht werden können. Für etwa das Harsh Noise Projekt The Rita des Kanadiers Sam McKinlay ist der Einfluss minimalistischer Künstler nicht nur in der Musik, sondern auch biographisch feststellbar: “Practically all through my four years in University I was heavily interested in minimalist hard edge painting eventually spreading into floor works, landscape pieces, and eventually concept based textual and photographic interpretations of areas and space.” Interessanter aber als dieser persönliche Hintergrund ist die über Sam McKinlays Stücke selbst erfahrbare Wirksamkeit minimalistischen Gedankenguts. CDs wie „Thousand of dead gods“ [PACrec / Troniks], „Bodies bear traces of carnal violence“ [PACrec / Troniks] oder auch die mit Toby Dammit und Fecalove entstandene Kollaborationsarbeit [Turgid Animal] erinnern stark an die Konzeption von Zeitlichkeit wie sie in den Kompositionen La Monte Youngs oder Terry Rileys, ebenso in den Videoarbeiten etwa Bruce Naumans vorzufinden ist: Bei den Stücken Sam McKinlays sieht sich der Hörer mit höchst monochromen, ohne Unterbrechungen auskommenden, nahezu statischen Harsh-Noise Blöcken konfrontiert, die in ihrer formalen Einfachheit an archaische Monolithen erinnern, die aller Zeitlichkeit trotzen. Bei den Stücken McKinlays scheint es sich somit in ihrer formalen Anlage ebenso wie bei den minimalistischen Kompositionen um die Hörbarmachung eines gleichsam ewigen Klangs zu handeln, der ohne Anfang und Ende einen Raum besetzt, bei dem es dem Zuhörer überlassen ist, zu entscheiden, wann er diesen Raum betritt und wann er ihn wieder verlässt, d.h. welchen Ausschnitt er als faktisches Rezeptionserlebnis wählt. Diesem seit Marcel Duchamp relevanten Selektionsmoment künstlerischer Produktion wie Rezeption korrespondiert der Anspruch des Künstlers, dem Rezipienten, unabhängig davon, wie lange er das Stück hört, dieses in seinem konkreten Ereignen stets als Ganzes in einem Modus der Augenblicklichkeit und Repetition zu vermitteln, d.h. so erlebbar zu machen, dass der Hörer nichts von der ästhetischen Intention und Wirksamkeit der Musik verliert. Durch die statische, gleichbleibend monochrome Klanglichkeit erhält McKinlay so die Möglichkeit, dem Hörer bei einem willkürlich zu wählenden Rezeptionsausschnitt die je prinzipiell gleichen Klanginformationen zu vermitteln.

Allerdings stellt sich bei einem längeren Hörerlebnis freilich ein anderer psychologischer Effekt ein als bei einem bloß kurzen Ausschnitt: so wie etwa Morton Feldman in seinem Zweiten Streichquartett durch extreme zeitliche Ausdehnung einen bis hin zur Erschöpfung reichenden dissoziierten Konzentrationszustand erzielt, arbeitet auch McKinlay mit der Ermüdung des Rezipienten – jedoch weniger durch eine extreme zeitliche Ausdehnung, sondern durch extreme Lautstärke und eine besonders drastischen und brutalen Klangsprache. Mit den Begriffen Drastik und Brutalität lässt sich ein weiterer für das musikalische Denken McKinlays wichtiger Einfluss verbinden, seiner Vorliebe nämlich für das von Mario Bava in den 1960er Jahren begründete Genre des Giallo Films. So wie es auch den damaligen Regisseuren vor allem um eine psychologisierte Darstellung von Gewalt ging, scheint auch für McKinlay diese Komponente als Einfluss im Vordergrund zu stehen – mit dem Unterschied allerdings, dass er sich dieser Komponente nicht als formal-strukturierendes Moment bedient, sondern indem er einen narrativen und meta-narrativen Gestus gänzlich vermeidet und eine Psychologie der Gewalt nicht auf inhaltlicher, sondern vielmehr auf konzeptueller Ebene einbindet. Als Beispiel sei hier zunächst die bereits oben erwähnte CD „Thousand of dead gods“ genannt. Hier handelt es sich bei dem Ursprungsmaterial, das mittels Schichtung und radikaler Effektanwendung schließlich zu einem infernalischen, monochromen Wall Noise transformiert wird, um Feldaufnahmen eines Weißen Hais, eines Raubtiers also, das spätestens seit Steven Spielbergs „Jaws“ von 1975 negativ konnotiert ist. Semiologisch lässt sich „Thousand of dead gods“ als klangliche Interpretation der mit dem Begriff des Weißen Hais einhergehenden Konnotationen von Bestialität und Grausamkeit lesen, bei der sich die Konnotationen des Ausgangsmaterials mit der aus dieser hervorgehenden, dementsprechend transformierten Klanglichkeit für den Rezipienten, der um die Herkunft des Ausgangsmaterials weiß, zu einem infiniten und unhintergehbaren, sich durch die Geschlossenheit in seiner Semantik ständig potenzierenden Zirkel zusammenschließen. Dieses Hochschaukeln von Konnotationen und Klanglichkeit lässt sich so als Metapher auf die politische wie auch mediale Hysterie verstehen, die gerne aufkommt, wenn es um Gewalt und Brutalität geht. Ein weiteres Beispiel für dieses Prinzip des gegenseitigen Verweises von Konnotationen und Klang ist die CD „Bodies bear traces of carnal violence“, bei der McKinlay mit Ausschnitten rarer Gialli aus den 1970er Jahren arbeitet – statt mit einer Interpretation der konnotativen Ebene haben wir es hier aber nun eher mit einer zweifachen Verdopplung derselben zu tun: einerseits durch die bereits vorhandeneArtifizialität, andererseits durch die bereits implizite, negative Konnotierung des Ursprungsmaterials.

Die Stücke von „The Rita“ entpuppen sich so bei all ihrer Drastik als sublimes Spiel mit gesellschaftlich negativ besetzten Thematiken, die in ihrer formalen Anlage minimalistisches Gedankengut in eine universale, physisch unmittelbar erlebbare Statik der Gewalt umwandeln.

Kurt Christensen

Credo Forlag

2005

528 s.

Kurt Christensen er professor i etikk og religionsfilosofi ved Menighedsfakultet i Århus. Denne mursteinen av ei bok omhandlar den sk. postmodernismen (frå no av: pm) – det store og til dels ueinsarta ”livssyn” som for tida pregar mykje av notidas vitskapsteori, etikk, populærkultur, filosofi osb. Men hovudtemaet er ikkje pm isolert, men derimot korleis kristendomen relaterer seg til pm.

Det er lett å forstå at ”Postmodernismens…” har vorte ei tjukk bok med tema som spenner over mange område. Det er difor også lett å ha forståing for at forfattaren for ein stor del har nytta sekundærlitteratur som kjelder; sentrale forfattarnamn i den samanhengen er D. A. Carson, Stanley Grenz, Alister McGrath, Lesslie Newbigin, Brian J. Walsh og Richard J. Middlethon. Nokre av desse namna vil kanskje vere kjende for lesaren. Eg vil ikkje seie at den utstrakte bruken av sekundærlitteratur skjemmer unødig. Det er jo uansett slik at store delar av framstillinga nødvendigvis må bli litt overflatisk. Men no er det på tide å gå over til innhaldet i boka – og innimellom vil vi kommentere der vi finn det høveleg:

Fyrste delen av boka omhandlar forståinga av sanning i den postmoderne kultur: ”Dei store forteljingane” (i modernismen: universelt framsteg og frigjering ved vitskap og tileigning av objektiv kunnskap) har brote saman, ”konstruksjons”-tankegang har slege sterkt inn i erkjenningsteorien, vekta har gått frå tekst til lesar i hermeneutikken, og generelt i forhold til livssyn og religion er den rådande tankegang relativisme og pluralisme: Ingen kan gjere krav på den universelle sanninga, ein må difor tillate fleire ”sanningar” side om side. Sjølve framstillinga (med omsyn til djubde, storleik og temaområde) overlappar nok for ein stor del det gjennomsnittlege ex. phil pensum si behandling av det same temaområde.

Neste kapittel omhandlar trekk som peikar fram mot pm, i førmoderne og moderne epokar. Christensen legg vekt på at pm på ingen måte kom som eit ”lyn frå klar himmel”. Ein av dei som mest tydeleg gav forvarsel om at ein postmoderne tankegang var i anmarsj, var vel Friedrich Nietzsche, han er difor vigd eit minikapittel i boka – og dette er interessant lesing. Eit av dei mest sentrale poenga hjå Nietzsche er korleis fornufta eigentleg er underordna ”viljen til makt”. Alt fornufta gjer, er å gje slike ”makt-handlingar” eit skin av rasjonalitet.

Kapittel tre freistar å etablere eit teologisk-filosofisk livssynsperspektiv som kan tene som ”arkimedespunkt” for å døme om det postmoderne livssyn. Interessant nok vert det framheva – som jo heilt sant er – at ein person som vil bli ein kristen, på mange måtar må gå gjennom eit paradigmeskifte – bort frå (i alle fall grunnleggjande delar av) det postmoderne eller moderne paradigme. Christensen innser at ”nøytralitet” er umogleg i jakta etter eit fast utgangspunkt (det er jo også ei viktig postmoderne innsikt), likevel vil han hevde at det standpunktet han inntek - nemleg ei konservativ, kristen tru – langt på veg kan forsvarast allment, då ved sk. logisk konsistens, ved historiske grunnar, og ved ”pragmatisk” sanningskarakter (dvs. at kristendomen ”funkar” i livet hans.) Det er særleg den logiske konsistensen som vert interessant å kommentere i denne samanhengen. Her vert det nemleg presentert fem ”kriterier” på at ein religion er sann. Føremålet med kriteria er altså å avgjere om den éin religion er betre eller dårlegare enn ein annan. Nokre av kriteria: Rlg. skal vere praktisabel, fremje god moral, omfatte sentrale delar av røynsla, svare til røyndomen og vere samanhengande i sentrale utsegner. Dette er i og for seg interessante resonnement, men eg må medgje at det for min del ringar nokon varselbjeller: Står ein ikkje her i fare for å ”avgrense” Gud etter kva tankar ein på førehand har om Han? Særleg presserande vert jo dette i kriteriet ang. moral. Kan vi – av oss sjølve – fastslå kva som er Guds vilje og moral, og så bruke dette for å ”finne” Gud i den rette religionen? Christensen referer klokt nok fleire syn på heile denne framgangsmåten, og det skal seiast at ein teolog som Aksel Valen-Sendstad har nokre vektige innvendingar. Men her vil sjølvsagt synet på allmenn openberring spele ei viss rolle. Eg stussar elles litt på at Christensen i denne samanhengen ikkje nemner noko om lov/evangelium – og opplevinga av dom og frigjering i møte med Ordet – som eit vesentleg poeng i tilsluttinga til kristendomen som Sanninga. Dette ville jo rime med Luthers inndeling av religionane – der andre religionar utanom kristendomen vert sett på som vegar til sjølvrettferdiggjering. Men kanskje vil Christensen plassere dette poenget under den før nemnte ”pragmatiske” (el.subjektive) sanningskategorien til kristendomen. 

Det fjerde kapittelet er så ei vurdering av det postmoderne livssyn. Her grip Christensen attende til tema få det fyrste kapittelet, berre at han no freistar å vurdere desse tema meir normativt. For å gjere ei lang historie kort, har han mykje kritikk mot store delar av det postmoderne tankegods, kanskje spesielt i avsnittet om religiøs pluralisme og relativisme. Men verd å merke seg, er at mykje av denne kritikken er basert på ”common sense” og er ikkje berre spesifikt teologisk. Elles: Når det gjeld vurderinga av postmoderne hermeneutikk i møte med Skrifta drøftar ikkje Christensen i det heile teke om Bibelen bør vere gjenstand for nokon form for ”hermeneutica sacra” – dvs. ein heilag hermeneutikk som lét Skrifta kome til orde på (etter mi meining) eigne premiss, som det inspirerte Guds Ord. Kva Christensen tenkjer om inspirasjonen vitast ikkje (jamvel om han kallar seg konservativ.) Likevel meiner eg nok at han burde teke med også dette legitime perspektivet i drøftinga si, og då særleg med tanke på eit slikt syns konsekvensar for moglegheita til å finne fram til rett og klar tolking, og spørsmålet om einskapen i Skrifta (for å nemne noko.)

Så kjem vi til det siste kapittelet, der fylgjande spørsmål vert teke opp: Korleis skal vi argumentere for kristendomen si sanning i den postmoderne kultur? Her vert det då på sett og vis drøfta strategi: Skal ein bruke ”moderne” reiskaper, d. e. ved å appellere til fornufta, bruke logikk, argument og sannsynleggjering? Eller bør ein heller bruke postmoderne reiskapar, og satse meir på det narrative (forteljande), på vitnesbyrd, på opplevingar, kjensler, fellesskap osb.? Eller kanskje ein bør vende attende til det premoderne, og tre fram med autoritativ forkynning – utan ”godkjenning” av fornufta? Christensen satsar, diplomatisk nok, på ein kombinasjon av desse tre perspektiva. Som eit apropos kan det nemnast at det alltid er ein viss fare for å forrekne sitt publikum; veit vi at høyrarane er ”slik og slik” og vil reagere best på ”den og den” type forkynning? Tja. Går ein til NT, vil ein jo finne at apostlane til ein viss grad ”tilpassa” forkynninga si til tilhøyrarane, jfr. Paulus’ Areopagostale og 1 Kor 9, 19-23. Det spørsmålet som då lurar i bakgrunnen, vert då sjølvsagt: Kva i kristendomen kan endrast, kva kan ikkje endrast? Christensen går så vidt inn på denne problematikken, og ser løysinga i omgrepet ”changing continuity”. Med dét vil han søkje å respektere at kristendomen har ”ei kjerne” sjølv om han reknar med at all kristendom er kontekstuell og kulturelt betinga. Kva er så denne kjerna? Her har ikkje Christensen noko klart svar. Han talar fleire gonger om ”de oldkirkelige symboler”, samstundes seier han at kvar grensa går mellom det uskiftelege og de utskiftelege ”er imidlertid vanskeligt at udtale sig generelt om.” Dette er etter mi meining for tynt, spesielt med tanke på at apostolikum og nicenum jo konsekvent (med unnatak av omgrepet ”homoousion”) hentar omgrep og innhald frå Skrifta sjølv – noko som jo rimer godt overeins med at vedkjenningane som kjent er norma normata, dvs. avleidd/derivert norm – av Skrifta. Dette punktet kunne altså gjerne vore drøfta litt djupare, då det jo også spelar ei stor rolle i det som er hovudtemaet for kapittelet.

Alt i alt er ”Postmodernismens…” vorte ei stor og god bok. Ein treng sjølvsagt ikkje lese heile, mange vil sikkert kunne nøye seg med kapitla med vurdering av det postmoderne livssyn og diskusjonen om kva metode ein skal bruke i kristen forkynning. I alle høve bør det understrekast at god og brei kunnskap om det filosofiske grunnlaget for postmodernismen er nyttig og viktig. Med ein slik kunnskap kan ein langt meir effektivt kjenne samtida og, som Paulus seier, ”[rive] ned tankebygningar og alt stort og stolt som reiser seg mot kunnskapen om Gud.” (2 Kor 10, 4-5)

Selon Jean-François Lyotard, le début des années 80 se caractérise par le déclin des motifs universaux, c'est-à-dire la disgrâce des discours, affiliés à la philosophie des Lumières, ayant comme principe de production la défense d'un être absolu, qu'il soit nommé Nation, Peuple, Prolétariat ou Humanité.

« Les «intellectuels» s'adressent à chacun pour autant qu'il est le dépositaire, l'embryon, de cette entité, leurs déclarations se réfèrent à lui dans la même mesure, et elles procèdent pareillement. » (p.12)

Il serait ainsi devenu impossible d'énoncer ce type de discours. Il serait désormais impossible d'endosser et de légitimer une vision du monde et son devenir en fonction d'une éthique partageant le Bien du Mal.

«Pour le dire tout cru, on ne peut être un «intellectuel» sans déshonneur que si les torts ne sont pas partagés, si les victimes sont des victimes et les bourreaux sans excuses, que si dans le monde des noms qui forme notre histoire, certains au moins brillent comme de pures idées, sans défaut.» (p.19)

L'idée de l'universel n'a pas lieu d'être, le discours universaliste se tarit, la parole de l'intellectuel perd son socle : fin de l'«intellectuel».

Notons avec l'auteur que le déclin de l'idée universelle «peut affranchir la pensée et la vie des obsessions totalisantes», ce qui ne manquera pas de susciter de nombreuses réflexions en ce qui concerne la nature des représentations idéologiques contemporaines... Un discours politique est-il, dans ces conditions, toujours envisageable ? Les aspirations utopiques, déclamées au début des années 70, ne perdent-elles pas ainsi leur principe premier ? Enfin, une utopie saurait-elle être individuelle ?

Par ces questions, nous nous apercevons que la fin de l' « intellectuel » pose en définitive une autre interrogation, celle que Lyotard nomme «l'être-ensemble», à savoir l'organisation socio-politique de la société et sa mise en question. L'intellectuel mort, la discussion des enjeux socio-politiques perdent certes leur locuteur mais, néanmoins, demeurent. La question devient donc : qui s'attribuera la place laissée vacante ? En fait, les remplaçants sont d'ores et déjà présent ; il s'agit, pour Lyotard, des scientifiques des «sciences exactes», des «sciences humaines», des «techno-sciences du langage».

« Ces nouveaux cadres ne sont pas en tant que tels des intellectuels. L'exercice professionnel de leur intelligence a pour enjeu non pas d'incarner autant que possible dans le domaine l'idée d'un sujet universel, mais d'y réaliser les meilleures performances possibles. » (p.13)

L'intellectuel en sépulture, reste «l'intelligence» dans un monde de valorisation de la performance intellectuelle professionnelle...

Remarquons en conclusion, que Foucault avait déjà parlé de la fin des philosophes, des grands philosophes, «Sartre inclus» ; idée illustrée par cet intime sentiment de Jean-Jacques Brochier :

« Les grands héritiers, à des titres divers, de Sartre, Barthes, Foucault ou Deleuze ont disparu, sans nous laisser une si définitive impression de vide. Nous n'avons plus de contemporain capital, de philosophe vers qui nous tourner, d'écrivain qui prenait parti, sans ambages. Nous souffrons d'un manque de réponses, mais plus encore, peut-être, d'un manque de questions. Le piédestal sur lequel se dressait la statue du petit homme est bien vide. » (J.J. Brochier, «Le contemporain capital», article in Le magazine littéraire, n° hors série)

Jean Baudrillard dans A l'ombre des majorités silencieuses ou La fin du social [1978] écrit que « la masse », ou « les masses », sont des entités sans réelle existence, et donc efficacement irreprésentables, insondables... Elles font masse ! Et, à ce titre, nous nous permettrons d'avancer qu'elles sont en fin de compte ce «signifiant flottant», cette «valeur symbolique zéro» dont parlait Lévi-Strauss à propos du « mana », dans son introduction à l'œuvre de Marcel Mauss. Masse-mana : sujet inexistant des discours des politiciens et autres technocrates administratifs ou commerciaux. Jean Baudrillard, fidèle à ses idées sur la dissolution du pouvoir (Oublier Foucault, 1977), déclare les politiciens espèce en voie d'extinction. Alors : Fin des intellectuels. Fin des politiciens. A suivre.

Compte rendu de : Jean-François Lyotard, Tombeau de l'intellectuel et autres papiers

Galilée, Paris, 1984

Nourrir par la pragmatique narrative une vision politique de la production intellectuelle en particulier, et du socius en général, telle est l'originalité de cet ouvrage ; un ouvrage construit au travers d'un dialogue entre un provincial soucieux du devenir du politique du monde et un métèque, que l'on pense plus étranger par sa conception du monde que par son origine géographique.

Restant irréductiblement distant du capitalisme, mais aussi définitivement écartée de l'arbitraire d'une justice totalitaire, il en vient à la formulation d'une nouvelle voie. Il prône l'utilisation de la pragmatique narrative dans ce qu'elle apporte de neuf et de pertinent dans la compréhension des enjeux de pouvoir à l'intérieur des interactions interindividuelles. Et c'est ainsi qu'il en vient à redéfinir les dimensions sociales de l'exercice du pouvoir des deux systèmes politiques.

Le totalitarisme marxiste :

«L'Etat-parti contraint sans répit les citoyens libres de ne conter, de n'entendre et de ne jouer rien d'autre que son propre scénario. Celui-ci peut changer. L'important est qu'il contraigne, peu importe à quoi il contraint. C'est l'affaire non de signification et d'interprétation, mais de pragmatique narrative.- c'est-à-dire ?

- Comme citoyen de ces régimes, vous passez à la fois pour être le co-auteur responsable du récit qui est le leur, pour en être l'auditeur privilégié et pour en exécuter parfaitement les épisodes qui vous reviennent. Vous êtes donc assigné d'office aux trois instances du maître-récit à la fois, et dans tous les détails de votre vie. Votre imagination de narrateur, d'auditeur ou d'acteur est entravée complètement. Si vous manquez à l'un de ces devoirs, vous perdez toutes vos qualités. Or cela n'est pas évitable, puisque la signification du récit elle-même, ce qu'il y a à dire, à entendre ou à faire, n'est pas en votre pouvoir, ni même portée à votre connaissance. » (p.31)

Le capitalisme :

«Seulement le capitaliste et les travailleurs, s'ils ne sont pas assignés à des récits particuliers, le sont à des instances de narration. [Suite] c'est un point pragmatique, et non sémantique. Telle est donc l'impiété du capitalisme qu'il n'éprouve de respect pour aucun récit particulier, et tel son pouvoir, qu'un seul fait exception à cette indifférence, le récit de la manière de raconter, entendre et jouer les récits. [...] Je parle de ce récit canonique qui accorde le privilège de la valeur à l'activité autonome du narrateur et qui subordonne au seul nom de ce dernier celles du narrataire et du narré.» (p.56)

Les instructions païennes se constituent donc en la présentation d'une méthode de lecture des jeux de pouvoir au sein de la communication, d'une critique de tout assujettissement à un métarécit se déclarant universel, de tout récit circonspect à la paralysie de s'éloigner du Vrai.

Eloge d'une reprise en main par chaque individu du pouvoir de création et d'utilisation des récits, sans fausse pudeur face à la manipulation, il exalte la création-production de milles petites histoires qui par leur prolifération viendraient sans coup férir subvertir le grand Instituant.

«Nous sommes toujours sous le coup de quelque récit, on nous a toujours dit quelque chose, et nous avons toujours été déjà dits». Ainsi une fois ce savoir par la pragmatique narrative découvert nul retour en arrière n'est possible. Et les individus créateurs de récit, ni dupes ni fourvoyeurs, sont pour Lyotard ces «païens [qui] ne s'interrogent pas sur la conformité du récit à son objet, [car] ils savent que les références sont organisées par les mots».

Compte rendu de : Jean-François Lyotard, Instructions païennes, Galilée, Paris, 1977, 87 p.

A question that we all qua academics must ask: when attempting to devour mid-range large  works (not as huge as Church Dogmatics, but almost triple the length of most secondary commentaries) how does one keep from being overwhelmed by the size of the book and the worry that when sumarising one does both the individual details and the overall narrative sweep justice? In a way, mid-range large works can be worse that very, very long works in that no one expects you to remember every detail of Church Dogmatics, but someone might well expect this of a book that clocks in at 800 pages. How does one (even practically speaking in terms of memory) work the detail as well as the whole?

Relatedly, how does one prevent ending in the Macintyre/Foucault/Milbank problematic of a death by a thousand cuts of historical and geographical detail? With huge levels of specialisation in the academy - he over there is an expert on the growth of a certain practice in a precise geographical location at a precise temporal location - how can one try to paint with broad, but rich, brushstrokes? This is a question that has been asked before, but never in my mind resolve, but one suspects I am perhaps being far too Lyotardian in claiming there can be no such metanarrative due to specialisation.

“What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul?” (Mark 8:36)

While the Enlightenment brought about great advances in across the scientific spectrum – from curing diseases to gaining a greater understanding of the world we find ourselves in – it also enacted quite a cost. The Christian faith faced relentless attacks from Modern thinkers, who branded it as little more than a fable that failed the rigorous tests put forth by a new, “enlightened” worldview. Many began to scoff at the idea of God and instead put their faith in the golden calf of progress and the myth that continual progress would lead to some utopian ideal. The world would be reinvented through technological progress and soon become a place free of war and hunger and hatred and, for that matter, religion. In the 20th century, the dream collapsed under the weight of world wars, mass killings, and an increase in worldwide poverty, leaving, by the end of the century, a pile of rubble where our Modern tower of Babel once stood.

The Christian faith suffered beneath the scourge of Modernity, which pushed it from the public sphere and, as those professing to faith began to accept the tenets of Modernism, the faith quickly moved from one entrenched in community to one unique to the individual. Where science and logic held the key to ultimate, objective truth, religion was seen as just another subjective experience that, in the grand scheme of things, meant very little.

The collapse of the Modern paradigm again brought humanity back to square one in terms of their understanding of the world. What would arise phoenix-like from the ashes and lead us to a brighter tomorrow?

There are a multitude of choices in today’s buffet line of life philosophies – you can accept any number of religions, you can bow to the nihilistic god of money and materialism, you can continue the Modern dream of science and strive for that unreachable goal of perfection.

Little is certain about what lies in the future, but those of the Christian faith can rejoice in the floundering Modern worldview – by its failure to live up to the lofty promises it proclaimed, the playing field has now been leveled, placing Christianity alongside the other metanarratives. Lyotard’s critique of metanarratives and reason has effectively relativized Modern claims of objective, universal truth, leaving an opening for the emerging Christian faith.

So, now that the Christian faith has been granted a place in the postmodern marketplace of ideas, we face the arduous task of maintaining it. First of all, Christians must be careful not to squander these openings using modern techniques that attempt to show the truth of the Christian faith using rational demonstrations and then impose them on a pluralistic culture. Rather, the postmodern apologetic will be based upon presuppositions. It will be one in which everyone will place their presuppositions on the proverbial table and then narrate their way through the Christian story, allowing others to see it in a way that makes sense through their own worldview.

Next: Becoming a Storytelling Church

Yesterday we introduced Jean-Francois Lyotard’s claim that postmodernism can be defined as “incredulity toward metanarratives.” We defined the term metanarrative as “big story,” an overarching claim to truth based upon a conglomeration of narratives that define reality. In the postmodern world, after being burned by the utopian Enlightenment ideal of human reason, metanarratives are viewed with suspicion and even contempt. So, where does this leave the Christian faith in the postmodern, post-Christian world?

If postmodernity is defined by an “incredulity toward metanarratives,” then does it signal a rejection of the Christian faith, since it is based upon a grand story, perhaps the grandest story of all, as found in Scripture?

It cannot be denied that we live in a pluralistic society, one with thousands, or even millions, of competing narratives. The general public’s ability to access differing ideas has never, in the history of the world, been greater than it is right now. Christianity, then, has come to be recognized as just another metanarrative, alongside those of other religions and philosophies and the sciences, battling for a dominant position in the world.

So how is a Christian supposed to react to the reality that they find themselves in? Many choose to lament the situation, pining for some time in the past (most likely a past that they created in their own minds) when Christianity was dominant. They tend to lash out at others, attacking outliers with a Constantinian ferocity, while claiming themselves as the lone holders of truth.

But, for some it is a cause for great joy…

And we’ll talk about that in the next entry.

Deconstruction showed us that we view the world through our own of interpretive lens that has been shaped by our life experiences and education, but many times there is something else, something large and encompassing, that shapes our vision and helps define our metaphor of reality. Now, that overshadowing cloud may be anything from the claims of truth as put forth by the world of science to those claims from the religions of the world. In postmodern thought, these conglomerates of claims to reality and truth are known as metanarratives.

While it may sound like the name of the bookmobile Transformer, the term metanarrative actually comes from the French idea of “grand recits,” meaning, “big stories.” Jean-Francois Lyotard, an important figure in postmodern philosophy, used this term to define the movement, saying that postmodernism is “incredulity toward metanarratives.” So, Lyotard would then say that postmodernism is a suspicion of or disbelief in these “big stories.”

Lyotard’s difficulty, though, is not in the “stories” themselves, but in the claims they make. In other words, it isn’t the stories they tell, it’s how they tell them. It is the appeal to a supposed universal reason and the claim of an absolute, universal “truth” that he finds bothersome.

In particular, Lyotard finds the somewhat pretentious claims of a scientific, rational search for an ultimate theory to everything (42?) the most troubling. For, in their endless theorizing, there will always be some underlying assumption, a foundation on which the reasoning relies. The Enlightenment of the 18th century attempted to place human reason as the cornerstone of all knowledge, but, over time, even reason has been shown to be faulty.

So, where postmodernism finds itself as incredulous to metanarratives due to their claims of overarching truth, it certainly recognizes the important role of narratives as the basis for what may be deemed as knowledge. Somewhere, below all of the facts and figures of modernity, there resides a story, a myth, which acts as the underlying principle that acts as a foundation to their notion of truth. As opposed to science and rationalism, where claims must be “proven,” narratives make no pretense to proof, but rather proclaim themselves within the context of the story. Thus, narratives become the building blocks of reality.

Thoughts? Should I be burned at the stake yet? More to come later…

Iniciando com um comentário acerca do olhar fixo, experimentado por todo aquele que permite perder-se minutos antes da vinda de um novo pensamento e, deixando de lado a possível abordagem biologicizante do assunto por meio de teorias da cognição, a autora trata do processo de criação a partir de conceitos filosóficos dos autores Lyotard (1985 e 2006), Levinas(1969 e 1995), Deleuze (1984) e Derrida (1995).

Como emerge a genealogia do pensamento? Através da linguagem? Para Lyotard, a linguagem não em o poder de fazer as coisas existirem. Na verdade, as coisas desaparecem assim que as nomeamos, pois o signo substitui o objeto em nosso pensamento.

Assim, falar seria como perder...apesar de a linguagem envolver uma manifestação espacial isso não significa que ela incorpore coisas, produza objetos culturais a menos que seja mesclada a uma forma figurativa. Tal como a música e livros, podcasts.

Assim, objetos artísticos seriam deformações, distorções irredutíveis na linguagem ao mediar o caminho entre a idéia e a forma. Essa seria a origem de um certo desapontamento de nossa parte diante do que pensamos e do que produzimos. Para Deleuze o essencial é a dramatização da idéa cuja meta é especificar, encarnar o pensamento em uma forma figurativa.

O fascínio pela materialização de um pensamento em objeto ou ação não pode ser separado de nós mesmos, de nossa subjetividade, algo que não podemos, a princípio, controlar mas que podemos aprimorar com o tempo. Mas anterior à subjetividade há um momento, uma lacuna cuja demanda pode ser compreendida através da busca por nossa própria satisfação.

A produção artística seria uma forma de nos vermos. Derrida aborda a criação através do problema do segredo no qual o autor ou o pensador põe em ação seus próprios segredos ao criar artefatos culturais. A exposição de segredos traz consigo o senso de responsabilidade diante daquilo que nos revela a nós mesmos. A noção de responsabilidade dá origem à formação de um pensamento ético.

Ao mesmo tempo, essa revelação é distorcida pelas formas, entrecruza-se a outras revelações, gerando um figurativo complexo.Um pensamento ético é complexo, sua forma figurativa através de leis e códigos de conduta possuem uma parte visível e invisível(Levinas) uma totalidade e um infinito que torna a ação social, cultural também móvel e emergente.

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The Post-Modern Age has introduced countless changes to our experiences as human beings.  While Modernity had championed the rational, scientific, linear, ordered, functional world, post-modernism has almost effortlessly entered our Western culture and turned the modern European Enlightenment Project on its head.  Images have replaced language as our preferred tool for communication; relativistic, individualized little narratives have become champion over universal, social grand narratives; and linear, cause-and-effect notions of time have been challenged by the Zen-like notion that there is no time, no moment, before this one.

With a minimal degree of difficulty we can look upon the world and view the effects and manifestations of post-modernism on our music, our literature, our art, architecture, media, and even our spiritual discourse (after all, how much further discourse do we need now that “God is dead”?).  But what does post-modernism mean for our concepts of politics and society?  How does post-modernism effect the subtle and overt ways that power dynamics shape our society? What does a post-modern politic look like?

While a there is no shortage of movies, television shows, or books telling us post-modern tales of a future where we are beyond-human in our physical reaches (with cyborgs, artificial intelligence, and robots in no short supply) most of these visions fail to assume or imagine a post-modern effect on the nature of our relationships to power, authority, freedom, and language binaries.  If post-modernism is to integrate itself into our social and political lives in a meaningful, articulate way, it is surely to come in the form of a re-defining of our tolerance towards concentrated centers of power, be they States, corporations, or people.  The conclusions of a post-modern world point to a world based on localized relationships, mutual aid, and a discernable social value for things such as creativity, freedom, and desire.

Archetypal Principles of Modernity and Post-Modernity

Carl Jung brought to us the concept of the archetypes of the masculine and feminine principles.  The masculine principle, manifesting itself as logic, science, hierarchy, order, linear, causal, agency and reason, is easily connected to the identity of the Modern Era and the Enlightenment Project, which is why we sometimes refer to this Era as being under the dominate paradigm of patriarchy.  The feminine principle, on the other hand, finds itself associated with instincts, emotions, nature, horizontal relations, disorder, non-linear time, effect, communion and the extra-ordinary (what we might call the trans-ordinary or even post-rational).  Given the obvious connections between modernity and these masculine principles, it doesn’t take too much for us to begin to see how the ideas of post-modernism reflect the archetype of the feminine principle.  Indeed, monotheistic, masculine modernity gives way to polytheistic, feminine post-modernity, as we are urged by thinkers like Jean-Francois Lyotard to see reality in turns of  what he refers to as “pagans”; not one singular truth, but many, relativistic and individuated truths.

In the post-modern age the inter-dependence and inter-connectedness of each discipline is emphasized as everything around us takes the form of multi-media.  The line between image and reality, entertainment and news, is blurred.  This is precisely the manifestation of the feminine principle.  And as we shift from reading the written word to watching films and listening to the radio over the internet, we continue to erode the once omni-present masculine paradigm of order, distinction, and Truth.

While post-modernism, seemingly to foster its own individuation away from modernity, has tended to over-grandize itself (as the one universal truth in a world where there is and can only be individual truths) it does find a way to begin to describe a world that we feel we can no longer describe.  And it is precisely this sort of inherent contradiction that makes post-modernism exactly the feminine principle.  It is ill-logical.  Even the connotations of me saying that can be taken to be meant as an insult, our modernist values think so highly of pure logic.  But in the words of Ken Wilber, post-modernism is not pre-logical but in fact post-logical. 

And here Wilber would caution us against the very important difference between pre-logical and post-logical.  The pre-logical world existed before the Enlightenment Project, before written word, and before we thought reasonably about what we experienced.  The pre-logical world was full of things that were unknown, frightful, magical.  We looked for external forces to provide answers and protect us.  But having arrived at the post-modern age of post-logical thinking we find that rather than repeat the past we are developing a logic that goes beyond ourselves; in fact, beyond being human.  We are individuals to the point where our inter-dependence is obvious.  And because of this, we seek freedom for ourselves and recognize that such freedom demands the same for all.

Capitalism

Capitalism, while admirably offering a piece of society’s wealth to a greater number of its lower classes than the socio-political relationships of the past, is nonetheless an oppressive, inequitable arrangement which fosters the domination of many for the power, wealth, and (relative) freedom of a small ruling class.  Further, capitalism enjoys an insatiable appetite for consumption and waste.  Progress is defined solely as continual growth and expanded excess profits.  These excess profits are owned privately by the owning classes and keep the lower classes in a self-destructive race to the bottom of the economy.  Freedom is reserved for those who can afford it and for those who can’t afford it desire is crushed under the weight of isolation and want.

And, just as Lyotard points out that science cannot legitimize itself and there for must turn to the narratives of philosophy and politics for its purpose, so does capitalism rely on science and philosophy to legitimize itself.  But post-modernism has turned both science and philosophy on their heads, the results of which we can only imagine will continue to astonish us.  So too with the politics of post-modernism as it ages.  As we have traveled deeper into the experiment of capitalism, society has continued to embody the masculine while simultaneously showing the first signs of the feminine paradigm, the post-modern era.

These masculine principles have seemingly come to their full and final manifestation in the form of post-industrial capitalism.  In the context of our consumer-owner based society, extreme individualism is the last refuge for the fading ideas of modernity and the Enlightenment Project.

As Capitalism and Authoritarianism Fades

History’s great challenge to capitalism came in the form of socialism.  The socialists proclaimed that rather than organizing the State for the enrichment of an elite few, society should be intent on providing for the least fortunate and offering economic security for those whose labor produces society’s wealth.  About the same time that Marx was gaining notoriety for his revolutionary ideas about the political and social power relationships of capitalism, other thinks such as Michael Bakunin declared that it is the State itself that inhibits the freedom, creativity, and full empowerment of life and happiness, and that only with the final abolition of the State will we truly come to know freedom.

While Marx argued that the working classes would need to take over the State before being capable of doing away with it, the history of this is not so compelling.  The Soviets in Russia, as well as the Chinese, Cuban, and Korean “Communists” all have claimed to work for various adaptations in Marx’ principles, all with the result of replicating a State-run, centralized capitalist bureaucracy.

But rather than replicating the concepts of power that have been the hallmark of the modern era, perhaps post-modernism and the feminine principle offer us a clue as to what our social and political relationships may come to be.  Perhaps it is in over-coming the limitations of a purely rational, linear, top-down worldview we can come to re-define our relationships to ourselves, our society, and nature in a completely different and liberated way.  In the spreading of the libertarian-social concepts of Bakunin, the revolutionary desire of increased freedom becomes closer to our post-modern reality.

Even in warfare, the post-modern era is offering us a unique and fascinating departure from the colossal battles that have defined war as a clash between state militia’s for the power and supremacy of one regime and its resources over another.  In fact, during the past century we may be witnessing the gradual end of wars fought between nation-states.  “A-symmetrical” wars, in which one or both sides do not represent a government and therefore have no territory to defend or lose, have proven to heavily favor the de-centralized, gorilla-style (and often loosely organized) forces over that of the classical idea of an army (we see this in the Russian experiences in Afghanistan and Chechnya, as well as the disastrous American efforts in Korea, Vietnam, Afghanistan and Iraq).  In a globalized world in which nearly every nation either posses nuclear weapons (and the capability to destroy the entire planet) or they are politically friendly with a nation who posses them, it is increasingly impossible for nations to clash they way we traditionally know they have.

Earlier in the century, we were even introduced to the unique concept of war by the people to abolish authority, repression and coercion in all forms, including the State itself.  This idea, brought to light during the Russian Revolution as well as the Spanish Civil War and even the experiences of Paris ‘68, was embodied by volunteer military forces who fought without hierarchy or centralized leadership.  While these early efforts to fight wars without the use of centralized, hierarchal models of organization fell short of success, the indigenous peoples of Southern Mexico, commonly known as the Zapatistas, were able in the early and mid 1990’s to defeat the Mexican army and take control of their region without employing authoritarian and linear relationships of power; they operate according to directly democratic means where by no one is compelled to take-part in something they do not chose to and everyone effected by a decision is given equal say in coming to a conclusion.  Little narratives as military structure?

Despite the ways we may be able to imagine (or assume) how disastrous these non-hierarchal militias would be, we should not forget that the Makhnoite forces in the Ukraine kept that territory virtually autonomous for nearly two years while fighting simultaneously against Stalin’s Red Army, the rebelling White Army, and the fascist German invaders.  During the Spanish Civil War, large regions of the country were completely under the “control” of the anarchist CNT and FAI unions for over three years while fighting against both the forces of Franco as well as the Communist Party; it is even widely believed that while the de-centralized Spanish militias fought well, the de-centralized, directly democratic factories, mills and farms increased their production, by as much as 300% according to some.  And in Mexico, the EZLN (Zapatistas) have self-governed without the use of authoritarianism or top-down power structures since 1994.

Conclusions

The archetypes of the masculine and feminine principles are essentially identical to the ideas of modernity and post-modernity.  As we continue finding the world around us increasingly enveloped in the age of post-modernism (and as this age matures) we will undoubtedly discover new ways in which it manifests itself and altars the ways in which we live.  This will obviously come to effect our ideas and goals for our political and social lives.  At the same time philosophers began deconstructing our social and cultural norms, the ideas of a society of based on unfettered freedom (born of indivisible inter-connectedness) has been envision and desired. 

As we continue to experience the multitude of ways that post-modernism is changing our human experience, we will continue to witness the last vestiges of the old, modernist, masculine paradigm as it fights for its survival.  When the feminine principles that are embodied by post-modern ideas takes greater hold of our collective will, we should expect nothing less than the colossal shift from a homogenized society that prefers domination and centralized power to one that recognizes the value of distinction and favors cooperation and equality.  

Se tiene por “postmoderna” la incredulidad con respecto a los metarrelatos. (Lyotard)

Creo que era Zizek (pero no recuerdo dónde, si alguien lo sabe, que me lo diga) el que decía que el postmodernismo consiste en no tomarse nada en serio, pero comportarse como si no fuera así.

En el marco del contrato contra-sexual los cuerpos se reconocen a sí mismos no como hombres y mujeres, sino como cuerpos parlantes, y reconocen a los otros como cuerpos parlantes (Beatriz Preciado)

Práctica contra-sexual incluída en su Contrato Contra-Sexual:

resexualizar el ano (una zona del cuerpo excluida de las prácticas heterocentradas, considerada como la más sucia y la más abyecta) como centro contra-sexual universal. (Preciado)

La contra-sexualidad afirma que en el principio era el dildo. El dildo antecede al pene. Es el origen del pene. La contra-sexualidad recurre a la noción de “suplemento” tal como ha sido formulada por Jacques Derrida (1967); e identifica el dildo como el suplemento que produce aquello que supuestamente debe completar. (Preciado)

”Whereas representation tries to absorb simulation by interpreting it as false representation, simulation develops the whole edifice of representation as itself a simulacrum. These would be the successive phases of the image:
1 It is the reflection of a basic reality.
2 It masks and perverts a basic reality.
3 It masks the absence of a basic reality.
4 It bears no relation to any reality whatever: it is its own pure simulacrucm.
In the first case, the image is a good appearance: the representation is of the order of sacrament. In the second, it is an evil appearance: of the order of malefice. In the third, it plays at being an appearance: it is of the order of sorcery. In the fourth, it is no longer in the order of appearance at all, but of simulation. ” (Baudrillard)

“Thus perhaps at stake has always been the murderous capacity of images: murderers of the real; murderers of their own model as the Byzantine icons could murder the divine identity. To this murderous capacity is opposed the dialectical capacity of representations as a visible and intelligible mediation of the real. All of Western faith and good faith was engaged in this wager on represenation: that a sign could refer to the depth of meaning, that a sign could exchange for meaning and that something could guarantee this exchange–God, of course. But what if God himself can be simulated, that is to say, reduced to the signs which atttest his existence? Then the whole system becomes weighteless; it is no longer anything but a gigantic simulacrum: not unreal, but a simulacrum, never again exchanging for what is real, but exchanging in itself, in an uninterrupted circuit without reference or circumference. (Baudrillard)

 Creo que era Zizek (pero no recuerdo dónde, si alguien lo sabe, que me lo diga) el que decía que el postmodernismo consiste en no tomarse nada en serio, pero comportarse como si no fuera así.

 En el marco del contrato contra-sexual los cuerpos se reconocen a sí mismos no como hombres y mujeres, sino como cuerpos parlantes, y reconocen a los otros como cuerpos parlantes (Beatriz Preciado, 18)

Práctica contra-sexual incluída en su Contrato Contra-Sexual:

resexualizar el ano (una zona del cuerpo excluida de las prácticas heterocentradas, considerada como la más sucia y la más abyecta) como centro contra-sexual universal. (Preciado, 30)

 La contra-sexualidad afirma que en el principio era el dildo. El dildo antecede al pene. Es el origen del pene. La contra-sexualidad recurre a la noción de "suplemento" tal como ha sido formulada por Jacques Derrida (1967); e identifica el dildo como el suplemento que produce aquello que supuestamente debe completar. (Preciado, 20)

''Whereas representation tries to absorb simulation by interpreting it as false representation, simulation develops the whole edifice of representation as itself a simulacrum. These would be the successive phases of the image:
1 It is the reflection of a basic reality.
2 It masks and perverts a basic reality.
3 It masks the absence of a basic reality.
4 It bears no relation to any reality whatever: it is its own pure simulacrucm.
In the first case, the image is a good appearance: the representation is of the order of sacrament. In the second, it is an evil appearance: of the order of malefice. In the third, it plays at being an appearance: it is of the order of sorcery. In the fourth, it is no longer in the order of appearance at all, but of simulation. " (Baudrillard, 170)

"Thus perhaps at stake has always been the murderous capacity of images: murderers of the real; murderers of their own model as the Byzantine icons could murder the divine identity. To this murderous capacity is opposed the dialectical capacity of representations as a visible and intelligible mediation of the real. All of Western faith and good faith was engaged in this wager on represenation: that a sign could refer to the depth of meaning, that a sign could exchange for meaning and that something could guarantee this exchange--God, of course. But what if God himself can be simulated, that is to say, reduced to the signs which atttest his existence? Then the whole system becomes weighteless; it is no longer anything but a gigantic simulacrum: not unreal, but a simulacrum, never again exchanging for what is real, but exchanging in itself, in an uninterrupted circuit without reference or circumference. (Baudrillard, 170)

I wonder how the addition of Lacan’s and Zizek’s notion that our experiences of the Real (which resists representation, and which loses its ‘reality’ once it is represented) are traumatic might add to the trajectory of thought... Is our encounter with God (who would be that which is most fully Real) that truly traumatic encounter which we then attempt to flee from or contain within the symbolic?

I do believe the Lacanian symptom Dan speaks of well represents the plight of the Old covenant. The tension between the 'prophets' and the 'powers' is that of God's freedom to interrupt the symbolic realm humans set up in order to resist the transcendent.

However, I am wary of speaking of 'The Real' in the psychoanalytic terms that Lacan uses. The 'encounter with the Real' sounds too neo-orthodox (in the negative sense) for me. God's freedom explains itself through the gospel event (the pure event... and I do like Badiou's terminology).

Obviously, I still have a lot to work through here. I am very interested to hear other's thoughts on the matter.

It seems you can’t go far these days without encountering something–whether it be art or architecture, a book or blog, music or anything else–that comes with the label ‘postmodern’ attached to it. The funny thing about it is that this word is being carelessly thrown around, yet most people could not explain precisely what ‘postmodernism’ is. In that respect, it has become something of a buzzword; throw it around and see what sticks to it. The truth is that the idea of postmodernism is anything but that. It is not a simple rebellion against all things ‘mainstream,’ but has roots in a much deeper place. So would you like to know the definition of postmodernism is? Get ready, here it is…

Postmodernism is “incredulity towards metanarratives.” Got it? Good. If not, then I’ll explain. These are the words of Jean-Francois Lyotard, and this definition was coined in his groundbreaking work The Potsmodern Condition. What it means to be incredulous towards metanarratives is, extremely simplified, questioning whether or not we (as in our culture and society) have got the answer to life–the big One, the end-all, the Truth. Metanarratives (don’t worry about the intimidating name) are simply the history and story of our society (in our case, Western Enlightenment thought) that prompts us to believe that we are better suited to find the truth than, say, ancient Greece, or the Persian Empire. Our metanarrative tells us thatwe–although we may owe these past societies various bits of our tradition and customs–are better in whatever regard, and anybody using just plain reason will be able to see that. Postmodernism essentially denies this: it says that we don’t have any way of judging what is ‘better’ (like our method of governance vs. the Persian Empire’s), and anything that asks us to evaluate such things on reason alone is a metanarrative. Let’s break it down a little further.

Metanarrative, as you can probably tell, combines the prefix Meta and the word narrative. A narrative is simply a story. Our nation’s narrative would involve things like the fight for freedom, the history of our country, the story of our becoming and being. But when you attach the Meta and the word becomes Metanarrative, the meaning changes a bit. A Metanarrative will not only claim the same type of story as a narrative will, but place valueupon it. A Metanarrative is not simply a story–it is something that claims to be True (with a capital T–as in absolute truth). 

For instance: America fights for what we call freedom. We have a long and storied history of doing so. Our national narrative chronicles these events as a way of preserving our past, grounding ourselves in tradition and so on. The national Metanarrative that results from these fights, however, tells us that fighting for freedom is the best thing we can do, that it is absolutely True and that it must be right in all places and times. How does the Metanarrative back up this claim? The Metanarrative says that any person with common reason, American or not, will see that this value and claim, is absolutely True. 

Of course, whether or not American values will be perfectly acceptable to someone on an appeal to their reason alone is certainly up for debate. Europeans are sceptical of the brash individualism that Americans display–reason alone dictates to, say, a French or German person that Americans are mavericks or cowboys, not sensible about things, or highly idealistic in their worldview. This is certainly not the kind of conclusion about ourselves thatwe reach on reason alone! Already, we can see cracks in the idea of a metanarrative–everybody, every culture, every society, has a distinct and individual point of view. 

Let’s review:

Narrative: A story.

Metanarrative: A story that claims it can justify itself somehow upon reason alone. 

Postmodern Philosophers

I cannot comment upon how the emerging postmodern trend has affected other parts of society other than philosophy or in a broad social sense, so I’ll narrow my scope to that area. It’s important to narrow the scope of what we mean when we use a term like postmodernism, and be careful to avoid making statements that are too broad and sweeping. What is postmodern for architecture may or may not have any sort of bearing on what postmodernity means for literature, and so on and so forth. While it is tempting, as philosophers such as Richard Rorty have noted, we ought to steer ourselves away from making broad societal observations where the connection is anything less than certain. Lucky enough for us, philosophy just happens to be a discipline whose reach extends (often unnoticed) out as far as the furthest fringes of society. Postmodern philosophy, then, is in a unique postion–in a way, it has the luxury of being able to pick and choose what may or may not be relevant. 

Here is a short list of some notable philosophers who have either assumed or been given the label ‘postmodern’ in one way or another: 

Jacques Derrida, Paul de Man, Jean Francois Lyotard, Michel Foucault, Martin Heidegger, Jean-Paul Sartre, Soren Kierkegaard, to just name a few. 

This has been an intentionally brief and, admittedly, scant overview of what postmodernism is. Hopefully the framework provided here will be enough to follow along with future blog entries and discussions about postmodernism and what it’s proponents and detractors have to say. Enjoy!

This brings up an interesting idea that has been bouncing around in my head for quite some time. While I perceive that there are many similarities in Barth’s and Lyotard’s view of the Grand, the major difference, I have heretofore believed, is that Lyotard had no capacity to accept that The Unpresentable could ever be presented. Whereas in Barth we see that God in Christ has necessarily “presented” himself. However, if we interpret Lyotard as meaning precisely the same thing as Barth (i.e. “there is no way from man to God [Unpresentable]”) then we see much more harmony between the two than I had afore believed; the implications of which would lead to a Lyotardian-Barthian Christological aesthetic that is rooted in the idea that Christ’s beauty is essentially God’s revelatory “presentation of the Unpresentable.”

***

Spałam może z dwie godziny, pobudka na miarę walki Jakuba z Aniołem, piętnastominutowe wychodzenie z pościeli i śniadanie przy głośnym Dickinsonie, który mnie ładuje na cały dzień. Jak tak chwilę przed lustrem powykrzywiam się, powrzeszczę, porobię diabelskie miny i przy Running free pukając grzebieniem w umywalkę, niczym Thunderstick, zadzierając brew wysoko wysoko słodko i wysublimowanie zawyję: now all the boys are after me, and that's the way it's gonna be - to dzień od razu nabiera jakichś pełniejszych barw, jakiegoś takiego popieprzenia z nutką swawoli i czekolady na końcu języka. Zwłaszcza, kiedy wyjątkowo nie ma się spóźnienia i można dłużej postać przy herbacie, pocierając pyszczkiem prawej stopy w ażurowej pończoszce o lewą łydkę gotową do wskoczenia w wysokie oficerki. Lubię gorzką herbatę od rana.

Dzień dzisiaj zaczął się lepiej niż kiedykolwiek indziej. Mimo tego siermiężnego wstawania, chwilowego zaperlenia i snu, co o potędze, na potęgę jest potrzebny - rannienie przywitałam z głośnym śmiechem i piskiem, niczym takie dziewczę gimnazjalne, kiedy dowie się, że Łukasz z III d powiedział Bartkowi z II e, że wyżej wymienione dziewczę ma zajefajne kolczyki. Z tym samym głośnym śmiechem, jak burza wpadłam do łazienki, odczyniłam wszystkie niezbędne poranne rytuały, zjadłam na śniadanie trzy pierogi, a po drodze na uczelnię jeszcze - pomarańczę - i śmiejąc się do siebie w tramwaju zaczynałam kolejny tydzień - w którym celebruję życie, straszę gołębie i nawijam krówki ciągutki na palce.

Mój głośny śmiech i ogólne zaperlenie nie jest dziś tak znowu czymś zwyczajnym. Bo mimo tego, że życie od dawna uwielbiam, bawię się z nim w chowanego, ucztuję na pełnych polanach zapatrzenia i kłusuję po jego latyfundiach, to są takie chwile w dwudziestoczterogodzinach każdego człowieka, w których śmiech jest inny, oddech jest inny, bo niebo akurat otwiera się z hukiem, a ziemia trzęsie się pod nogami - wywołana drżeniem łydek i szybszym biciem serca, i wtedy - nie ma Panie Boże przebacz - trzeba się zachłysnąć, trzeba się zapatrzyć i stwierdzić znowu, znowu ostatecznie i statecznie - że jak się raz wpadło, jak śliwka do danej czekolady - to się już na amen jest z nią w słodkiej komitywie. Takoż i ja - śmiejąc się i fikając dzisiaj dzielnie po mieście kleiłam się na pamiątkę tego słodkiego ucztowania do szyb tramwajów, innych ludzi, Pani Babci czerwonoberetowej pomagałam przejść przez jezdnię, kupiłam sobie całą paczkę żelek w kształcie wężyków i pochłaniałam je na przystanku tramwajowym robiąc głupie miny do stojących koło mnie przedszkolaków... Na pasach przechodziłam tylko po białych liniach i wskakiwałam na krawężnik, a jeżeli udało mi się za jednym zamachem przejść duże skrzyżowanie bez zmiany potrójnych świateł - to już ooo! szczyt szczęścia sobie wróżyłam i dozgonne Twoje zapatrzenia i zawarcie serca w małych dłoniach kobiecych.

Dzień mój dobry, jeden z najlepszych w życiu właśnie się kończy, choć przeciągam go jak mogę. Jest czwarta nad ranem, minut cztery. Do późna pracowałam z Panem Brunonem, żeby gdzieś w okolicy trzeciej przyszpilić go kategorią wzniosłości Lyotarda, przestrzenią poetycką Bachelarda, mitologizacją ogólną i wpakować go w ten labirynt myśli i słów, który mam zamiar odkrywać poprzez bałwochwalcze xsięgi. Tak wygląda mój konspekt rocznej pracy z historii literatury. Drohobek zaprawdę godny godziny.

W dniu tym jestem też nieziemsko zmęczona. Mam ochotę położyć głowę na Twoim ramieniu, przytulić się w sennieniu, tak żeby poczuć Twój oddech na policzku i zapaść w Ciebie, jak w ranę głęboką kozik rozbójniczy się wżyna. Żeby struga pomarańczy z tego słodka poleciała ku chwale nieba, ziemi i pełnego kobiecego kolana, które jest drugim imieniem Ducha Świętego. Pierwszym jest katuj, tratuj!

A thread brings us back to the postmodernism: When the non-believing individual lost its "grand narrative" as presented by Lyotard in the late 60s, it was left with a giant vacuum. Instead of building existences on religious, ideological og historical meta-stories, individuals were forced to seek "communities of meaning". And these communities, suggests Weick, have ended up being organizations.

Bottom line, the happier people feel, the more likely they are to be hospitalized for stress symptoms.