class, diet and politics

Is it 'lighthearted' to eat shitty food? Uptight to eat well? Why is it considered courageous to fill your body with garbage and wimpy to eat fresh produce? Why is understanding the greater impact of your diet, on the world, on your body, on your behavior etc. a mark of class distinction and privelege?
from Maureen Dowd on Obama today:

"He's already in danger of seeming too prissy about food — a perception heightened when The Wall Street Journal reported that the planners for Obama's convention have hired the first-ever Director of Greening, the environmental activist Andrea Robinson. She in turn hired an Official Carbon Adviser to "measure the greenhouse-gas emissions of every placard, every plane trip, every appetizer prepared and every coffee cup tossed."

The "lean 'n' green" catering guidelines, The Journal said, bar fried food and instruct that, "on the theory that nutritious food is more vibrant, each meal should include 'at least three of the following colors: red, green, yellow, blue/purple, and white.' (Garnishes don't count.) At least 70% of the ingredients should be organic or grown locally, to minimize emissions from fuel during transportation."

Bring it on, Ozone Democrats! Because if Obama gets elected and there is nothing funny about him, it won't be the economy that's depressed. It will be the rest of us."

(Be sure to read this excellent response from Erika over at New York, New Fork)

This is the real question: how has politics and economics shaped our diet? And why is it that what people begin to associate their identity with becomes inextricable from what and where they eat—why are people so seemingly unaware of the fact that much of their diet has already been dictated by industry, interest groups, subsidies, chemical conglamorates and even city planning (go, for example to the projects in the lower east side which house tens of thousands of people, try to find a fresh vegetable, I assure you, it's tough. You will on the other hand find plenty of corn-based beer, nachos, meat sandwiches, candy etc. as opposed to LaGuardia's far sighted plan for Essex Street Market); as a result the effects of the politics of food becomes embedded in the identity of individuals and even their way of judging authenticity, for example the day laborer should eat red meat and drink cola and generally consume lots of corn products, otherwise he is not the real thing, maybe too prissy even (so much for self determination and the American way). If someone criticizes these things they are taken to be criticizing the worker's identity and then it becomes a matter of patriotism which in many ways has taken the place of class identity in this country—sadly, in similar way to Nazi Germany's (or Stalin's Soviet for that matter) appropriation of the workers plight.

Anyway, the criticism of Obama like that from Dowd only reinforces the justification of this conflation. Instead, why is she not writing an article on how these ideologies can be changed by revealing the connection between politicians and the food industry, or the fake environmentalism that McCain is fronting? It's a total mess I think, though slowly it seems there is some recognition of the relation beween class and diet and politics in New York. (for example)

a recurring dream from long ago

I was unable to breath. I looked at her. She was living, but I could see that she was worried. She did not like to think that I was suffocating yet there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. It was controlled by someone else, outside.
He thought he was about to lose consciousness and then almost at the point of total asphyxiation he drew in a deep breath. It was like life returning.
The cool air flowed directly into my lungs which felt crumbled and old. I then looked over at her as if to show how healthy I had become. But to my horror she was on the ground holding her throat. Her eyes wide open she was writhing and trying to gasp. I was immediately horrified and tried to help. Nothing could be done. I even stopped breathing to see if it would come back to her, but nothing, nothing happened. It seemed as if I was not able to control the flow of air. I could not direct my desire to help her any more than I could escape the ship that we were both confined to.

(image: Wind Braut, Oskar Kokoschka)

sovereign dissolution

"The sense of totality demands an extreme intensity of the vaguest sensations, which reveal to us nothing clear or distinct: these are essentially animal sensations, which are not merely rudimentary, which bring back our animality, effecting the reversal without which we could not reach the totality. Their high-pitched intensity overruns us, and they suffocate us at the very moment they overthrow us morally. The negation of nature (of animality) is what separates us from the concrete totality: it inserts us in the abstractions of a human order – where, like so many artful fairies, work, science and bureaucracy change us into abstract entities. But the embrace restores us, not to nature (which is itself, if it is not reintegrated only a detached part), but rather to the totality in which man has his share by losing himself.... The point is that totality reached (yet indefinitely out of reach) is reached only at the price of a sacrifice: eroticism reaches it precisely inasmuch as love is a kind of immolation." Georges Bataille, The Accursed Share, Book II p.119

For Bataille eroticism gives a glimpse of access to the in-accessible, the loss of self; death. In an attempt to bring the god together with the worshipper sacrifice materializes god and destroys the body, both dissipate in an intense conflagration. Similarly, in love, the two sacrifice separateness in order to become one and thereby re-articulate a new subject; one that comes only in light of the two-as-one. The truth of love then is a transformation of the order of individuality. The community of love takes precedence to the isolated individual who becomes, then, like the negated nature, only partial. As the individual becomes an abstraction a new sovereignty is articulated. In order to found a new community it is traditional to begin with a sacrifice.

ex models @ project robot

fugu and casu marzu

"'...for Bataille, the question: 'Why community?' The answer he gives is rather clear: 'There exists a principle of insufficiency at the root of each being...' (the principle of incompleteness). Let us take note that what commands and organizes the possibility of a being is a principle. It follows that this lack on principle does not go hand in hand with a necessity for completion. A being, insufficient as it is, does not attempt to associate itself with another being to make up a substance of integrity. The awareness of the insufficiency arises from the fact that it puts itself in question, which question needs the other or another to be enacted. Left on its own, a being closes itself, falls asleep and calms down. A being is either alone or knows itself to be alone only when it is not." (Blanchot, Unavowable Community p. 5)

So then, as a principle incompleteness determines and organizes the possibility of a being-with-others; lack and community are inextricable; lack or isolation cannot be felt without the presence of others. As such the presence of others must be made known through their immediate absence. The pain of being alone can only be made manifest in terms of community; otherwise being withdraws completely into the unity of sleep. Of course, those things that make one most drowsy: watching tv, driving on long highways and heroin are in fact products of community and all have their logical consequence (even their ideal) in the complete destruction of presence and absence—absolute negation.

Bataille in another place writes about negation as the mark of animal becoming human. The erotic is an act of negating unrestrained animal sexuality. But incest also is negated as is cannibalism and menstrual blood. The supper is a negation of feeding on what would otherwise be, simply, a dead corpse of an animal or a raw dirty vegetable. Sometimes the most exhilerating culinary experiences involve proximity to the brute force of animal affirmation (or immediacy). I am thinking right now of two phenomena grounded in cultures from opposite sides of the globe:

fugu and casu marzu


On the first, a recent nytimes article quotes a Japanese restaurant owner:

"Officially, you can never eat it here," Mr. Kinashi said. "Well, it's not that you can't eat it, but, no, you can't eat it. That's the only answer I can give you."

The subject of this recent article is the controversial de-poisoning of fugu liver, the height of delicacy in Japanese cuisine. The intensity of its effects are far more well known than the actual taste of the liver. For those who do not know; not only can the liver be extremely poisonous if not prepared correctly but the poison tetrodotoxin effects the nervous system such that the victim stays completely awake and aware but paralyzed while slowly finding herself suffocating to death. No anti-toxin exists. If there is any doubt as to whether this risk is integral to the gestalt of experiencing this culinery delicacy you must only speak with someone who has tried it and felt with euphoric anticipation the tingling sensation on the lips; an effect indicating that just a slight amount of the toxin remains; or, a whole lot remains—the effect then indicating the beginnings of a slow, conscious death. Touching on absolute isolation the tingling anticipates the annihilation of community. Perhaps the closest a being gets to experiencing his own death.

The question of whether suicide through delicacy is taboo or not might not be so clear but there is definitely something perverse about being killed by the animal you have killed and eaten. There is something of an animal-risk being taken in connection to the ingestion of food, something prevalent and to a great degree inseperable for the animal act of consumption.


On casu marzu this, quoted from wikipedia:
"Susan Herrmann Loomis reports an encounter (in a 2002 Bon Appétit article): He … grabbed a piece of pane carasau, the traditional flatbread of Sardinia, rinsed it quickly under water to soften it and went to a large glass jar on a side table. He opened the jar, scooped out a mound of what looked like thick cream, and folded the bread around it. …When he was finished I asked what he had eaten, and he got up to show me. Inside the jar was pecorino, busy with small, white worms. I'd heard about this cheese, but this was the first time I'd gotten so close. … A friend of his … said, 'It's formaggio marcio [literally, "rotten cheese"], cheese with worms."

Not just worms, but maggots....the animals that eat corpses. While readily available in many parts of Italy (particularly Sardinia) this delicacy is also officially illegal. Years ago my cousin told me about the experience of sampling casu marzu. He said there was an intense sensation of burning and tingling in his mouth. Possible side effects are decomposition reaching a toxic level or intestinal larval infection. The former effect being a kind of feeling death. But cheese, of the more fragrant (stinky) variety anyhow, is an interesting example of the connection of consuming and taboo/prohibition. Bataille points out that animals do not recoil from scents as we do. While shit, for example, does not bother a dog in the least, who might even taste a small sample every now and then, the human most generally recoils. The same goes for a rotting cadaver.

Several years ago a friend of mine accompanied his sick father to the coast of Spain for what was to be a trip of convalescence or at least relaxation. Sadly, the trip ended with his fathers death. Since this was at least somewhat unexpected his son was unprepared for dealing with the corpse. He knew that his father was to be buried in France so he arranged to accompany the body on a train back to the burial grounds. As it was in the middle of summer and there was no air-conditioning in the car after some time my friend noticed a familiar smell. It was when he realized its source that he violently recoiled. Having been brought up in only very civilized surroundings he was shocked to find that the smell of his fathers dead body was very much like that of some of the most delicate French cheeses that he enjoyed on a regular basis. He told me that he might not ever be able to savor these cheeses again after having made that connection. How could he not think of his fathers dead corpse while consuming these delicacies?

The connection of taboo and excitement of prohibition and rarity reveals, in a sense, at least an aspect of the principle of insufficiency. The question of human community relies on a sense of disgust with where a being comes from ("Between feces and urine" -St. Augustine) and its end (the body). This makes a being inherently incomplete and existentially questioned (self-conscious). Being in community then relies on this infinite striving and rather than seeking to close this gap it strives to accentuate this gap through associating the personal struggle with the struggles of others, even/especially if it is in distinction or contrast. (...to be continued...)


www.nytimes.com/2008/05/04/world/asia/04fugu.html?pagewanted=2&ref=dining

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Casu_marzu

the cultic act

A conversation I had yesterday, inspired by a recent event in the news prompted me to speculate on the nature of the cult.

In order to maintain the utmost unity the cult must circumscribe itself with a perimeter, a circle isolating it from the society in which it manifests. The cult must also create within its boundaries a psychological status-quo, an environment to be maintained within the closed circle of the community. The strength of unity is determined by the institution of this border which determines an interior and exterior—defining the territory of the community. The perimeter must in turn be reflected in the psycho-dynamic center of the cult; the identity of each individual participant member becomes one within it. The initial transgressive act or split initiates the boundary between the cult and its god, the exterior becomes the space of imperfection; evil.

At the core of the cult lies the ritual which must necessarily be forbidden in the outside world; close to, if not in actuality, taboo. This mechanism of unity determines each member as an outlaw in the exterior world (just as participation in that world becomes sacrilege to the cult). This reflection maintains the authority of the cult leaders and the unity of the individual members. Transgression (to become exterior to the perimeter) from within the cult by a member would lead to immediate and absolute alienation—automatically becoming an alien to both worlds. In this way the cult sets up a strict duality grounded by the law that encompasses it.

Not only do the members maintain a consant awareness of isolation but it must be evident in the organization of principles actualized in the repetition of the forbidden ritual. Insofar as it is a community which is prohibited, immersed
in the threat of the (evil) exterior, a space of nonexistence, of absolute annihilation, the identity of each member becomes inextricably united with the ritual-act of the cult. The members huddle together, becoming one in their illumination, fighting the dark forces whose presence is always somehow felt, if even remotely. The greater the transgression, the closer it is to taboo, the more fragile the individual identity of each member becomes and the more it becomes existentially reliant on the performative identity of the cult. It is, though, essential that the cult member feels safe and normal within their community. They must never feel that a transgression is taking place; all excess is to be projected outside of the circle.

This reminds me of Arendt's work on the 'banality of evil'. The members of the cult must necessarily lead banal lives within the community. All risk, all evil, all harm is from the outside while most interior activity (even that which leads to terror) becomes almost rote habit. This is somewhat analogous to a cold war sensibility; or maybe to an even greater degree the 'war on terror'. A binary system is set up so that if you are not a member of one you necessarily become the 'other'—evil, and if you ever participated, even passively, through mundane, everyday living in the one then to the 'other' you become pathological—evil. All the while outside the perimeter atrocities are taking place. To breach the circle of your cult would be to alter your sense of history and expose yourself to terror; your sense of self and place is radically transformed. Just imagine being directly exposed to the war and torture that is being enacted supposedly in the interest of maintaining order in the interior, supposedly to sustain the survival of an identity ( based on an increasingly vague notion of 'freedom').

So, the cult cannot exist without this tension; in other words, a group of people simply surviving with rituals and economy only differentiated because of tradition, condition or location but not on the basis exclusion is simply a tribe. In this way the cult is tied to the law which prohibits it and in this sense it arises as a kind of parasite. While the truth of the tribe must be continually demonstrated and, to a degree, negotiated (the leaders are under the threat of being overthrown) the cult is absolutely static as the energy of redemption is completely turned outwards.

For early christianity the transgression might have been the consumption of the body and blood of their god. Only they could consume the flesh, only they could take in the truth of their cult—the one true god. Only those who participated had access to redemption and those who participated necessarily incriminated themselves in the host society. If an individual did not take in the body of god, if they did not consume him in the cannibalistic ritual then they were left out and thereby fated to absolute condemnation from the interior perspective. This act of redemption then must transcend the cult and it must pierce through the host society precisely through the transgressive ritual. It cuts through the law of the exterior and connects the cult directly to their redemptive god. This is only reinforced by the suffering the cult experiences, the degree to which it is dependent on the host/determined by what the host prohibits and by the degree to which the members each give up their identity. The cult member disappears completely into the ritual, into god as god disappears with the ritual, into them. This desire for absolute unity is the telos of the most devoted cults and fidelity to it is actualized most precisely in (group) suicide; the logical outcome of the cultic act.

"In the cult, the self gives itself the consciousness of divine being descending to it from its remoteness, and this divine Being, which formerly has not actual but only an object over against it, through this act receives the actuality proper to self-consciosness.... This devotion is the immediate, pure satisfaction of the self by and within itself." (Hegel, Phenomenoloy of Spirit, p. 432)

Reginé

I asked myself this question in the pouring rain today (after wondering what might be absorbed through the skin of feet soaking for 10 hours in nyc street rain): what is the relation of philosophy to creating a life? what about art? poetry? even psychoanalysis? How do works not just express being but singularity?
With all of this wandering around Kierkegaard's writings on love, and especially citing his existential break from the mechanics of German Idealism and the machinations of German Romanticism, why is it that the love with Regine Olsen could still have been denied? Does this represent a profound failure that Kierkegaard might have had in/by trying too hard to understand what it is to be human rather than 'just living'? Was Kierkegaards god perhaps even too subjective, to a dogmatic degree; unaware of the very limit it was setting? Did he recoil from horror when Regine said yes to him, as he found himself becoming too determined; an object of love?
Or could Kierkegaard have had a bit more of the aesthetic in him than he would have liked to admit...distancing himself with pseudonyms as a kind of infinite masking or disavowal of the work?
Kierkegaard essentially enacted both the Knight of Infinite Faith and the Knight of Infinite Resignation in one determined choice...either/or and both! ....I really almost wish I did not recognize this: Regine Olson

when love frightens

"What then calls me into question most radically? Not my relation to myself as finite...but my presence for another who absents herself by dying." -Maurice Blanchot

"...so we'll be united for good. I'll lie down and take you in my arms. I'll roll with you in the midst of great secrets. We'll lose ourselves, and find ourselves again. Nothing will come between us anymore. How unfortunate that you won't be present for this happiness!" -Maurice Blanchot

Alien Sense: the Mandeaens

For the Gnostics according to Hans Jonas, allegory is turned on its head and becomes an act of revolution, overturning the traditional values and revaluating stories for a new mythology. According to the Mandaean sect for example, those who are traditionally condemned to hell are brought back and saved by Christ. The serpent in the garden becomes a manifestation of god. Jesus hanging on the wood of the cross becomes the forbidden fruit of eden hanging on the tree. The striving of gnosticism is precisely expressed in this conversion of allegory: from a integration of tradition to a polemical discord, a rupture of reality and a new disavowal of presence. It is then, as Jonas explains, through polemics that Gnosticism holds onto expression.

Above all, for the gnostics, the alien god is irreducible and cannot be integrated with cosmic phenomena, instead spirit is somehow trapped in a cell of cosmic matter; night. Even language must fall short so that what is expressed can never understand fully what it is expressing. There is a secret cunning or a spiritual unconscious that is essential in the gnostic gesture. Gnosticism, so long as spirit is trapped in matter, is always in the process of becoming (though like Platonism, striving for the eternal). Never can it be fully presented as a concept, rather, it is the heterogeonous withdrawal evident in its application.

This formula brings to mind Nietzsche's 'geneology'. For Nietzsche revaluation of values involves the transformation of cause into effect. This is a creative gesture, the spirit of the child. The new fiction that results becomes the new truth and the event of truth becomes a conceptual presence shining on (from) both the past and the future, itself now ripe for overturning. Those who adhere too closely, too absolutely to truth do so by subsuming themselves under this power. As a fetish it replaces the uncanny (unheimlich) sense of the alien with the idea of imperfection. Falling short becomes the inescapable, branded as immoral. Externalized it becomes an ideological tool preying on anxiety. What is excluded is the failure of the concept and a new radiation of resistence predicated on what is irreducible; what undermines strict duality and facilitates misunderstanding, never fully captured.

It would be interesting to explore the dialectical relation between speculation and reflection and the excess which insures its movement. What is refused by tradition (or not even acknowledged) takes on an aspect of the alien, of pure loss; so that what drives dialectics is precisely this excessive absence, what does not fit into the rational, what, for Hegel, maintains the disjunction between the rational and the real. So long as this gap is sustained becoming persists. In this sense the absolute could be taken as either total alien (in relation to presence or becoming) or nothing (in the annihilation of relation). For the former the absolute presents itself in its absence from expression. Expression attempts to surround it, to bring it to itself. Ever evasive the absolute presupposes the impossiblity of expression. For the latter the impossibility of existence makes itself known in the realization of nonexistence. The paradoxical awareness of nonexistence (oblivion). A third option might be that presence is understood itself as the absolute. Absolute presence is both effaced and sublated (aufgehoben) with every new truth. Speculative reason allows this paradox to persist, as a sense, always opening from the alien.

(image above: detail from a Gentileschi painting)