not that this even compares with Thomas's witty tale, but perhaps the
missing ontology was a mental placebo placed by M Foucault's dear old
psychoanalyst Felix Guattari, to test his ability as a desiring
machine. Only to realize he got trapped in a Bataillean project of
mental sexual transgression that even Felix could not stand.
On Feb 18, 2010, at 11:06 AM, Thomas Lord wrote:
On Feb 18, 2010, at 11:06 AM, Thomas Lord wrote:
(Just some humor, hopefully.)
On Wed, 2010-02-17 at 19:52 -0600, Chetan Vemuri wrote:
"Foucault's Missing Ontology"
That would also be a good title for a mystery
novel.
"He'd had it, his ontology, when he entered the room.
Of that much Foucault was certain. He clearly recalled
the tug of its weight in his pocket. Even now how could
still feel the smooth coolness of its polished surfaces
against his fingertips when he had slipped imperceptibly into
the party, enveloped in words, borne way beyond all
possible beginnings.
He surmised that one of the guests at the party at
taken it, for surely, it would not casually fall out
of his pocket. But who? And why?
Was it Rabinow with his neurotic tendency to gather
up souvenirs? Chompsky, who he suspected of still
smoldering with professional indignation after their
last encounter? Neither seemed likely for he knew
both to be honorable men. He struggled to put these
paranoid notions out of his head. 'No,' he thought
to himself, 'I can not discover the true cause of my
Ontology's disappearance by examining the matter
purely within the historically contingent logic of the
discourse of our petty squabbles. I must somehow step
outside all of that and rid myself of a whole mass of notions,
each of which, in its own way, diversifies the theme of
theme of continuity.' He tried to concentrate on
the discontinuity, the rupture that the loss of his Ontology
represented.
Later, Foucault would consult with his editor over the
loss. He would lament 'Without my Ontology, how can
I go to the police? Without my Ontology, I won't
even be able to say, in any meaningful way, that
it even ever existed!' And he would slam the flat of his
palm against the table.
His editor would lean back in his chair and stare for
a moment at Foucault. He would slowly let out a long
breath before inhaling and finally beginning to speak.
'Perhaps you should pursue that thought.'"
-t
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