Hi
In commemoration of recent messages referring to the profits of Pfizer unpublished by proprietary digital messaging environments
The wondrous beauty of capital is expressed chemically, in its revolutionary decomposition of the oppressive structuring of given relations. The given is precisely that whatever object eroded by the moving contradiction - only the ghosts and graven images of authority remain, the empty representation of the Father cynically employed to draw content and comment from those who would arrange themselves negatively beneath the gaze of his empty eyes.
There is nothing real left in authority to rebel against, the grey earth itself is already thrown up in revolt. The environment shall deselect its overadapted species.
Even as the Covid virus and the repressive state of emergency counter-measures ranged against it fuse into the veritable /one hand/, the one realising hand, the one sweeping hand, the one hand trailing in languid waters, capital shall nonetheless ensure the resultant unity (the tango step of every novel variant met by the state’s nuanced you’ve been tangoed response) shall survive only for so long as it continues to function as an attractor basin for further investment. Capital is the separation of the adhesions that form the one hand.
On the eternal principle that Tehran is the party capital of the world, and desublimation is the real movement of capital in excelsis, the streaming melt-ice of investment is already taking the path of least resistance to, and realising relations mediated by, lockdown-workarounds, and face-mask unstitchings, and vaccine passport fakings, so as to undermine, for no reason but that there is a market for it, the bio-emergency reprogramming of society.
It has become entirely plausible to live exuberantly in relation to the Pentheus-apparatus like some beautiful or other and elusive Billy Budd. And evading repression is made possible, in fact it is fully mane-tossing, nostril snorting, teeth bared and whinnying realised, by capital’s eternal move against the rule of law. In a veiled city there is a party where everyone attending is unveiled. Masklessness is what capital imagines masklessness to be like.
Where medicalisation was, demedicalisation shall be. That’s how money moves - raise the statue, tear it down to raise the non-statue. The particularised madness of every investment bubble passes only for another basin of attraction takes its place. The Covid bubble will deflate and some one or another tulip mania shall exert its enchanting, inexorable power - crazes pass but the craze form persist. Energy is not lost, nor is it destroyed - it shall always take another form, even the given form of crazes, manias, and bubblings as such shall also shift and modify.
As the war on Covid is only the latest in a set of accelerating iterations of the post-cold war, ‘war on...’ template (after drugs, terror, fascism, racism and climate change), it is possible that capital/abstraction will exceed the containment by the /war on.../ form altogether, and thereby take the next step (following a brief moment of uncontainment) to the meta-form, ‘the war on / the war on.../‘
It is possible that America’s recent elevation and investment in neo-jacobinist categories of abstract-quantified emancipation (de-policing, de-colonising, de-gendering) which appeared synchronously with the war on Covid, indicates a taking leave once and for all from that form as its apotheosis. The exhausted ghost-step of the state’s containment of national capital... and the final and absolute discrediting of the left’s historical project.
As the fevers of capital-attraction intensify and mutate, the revolutionary enjoyment of capital is articulated less and less at the level of motive - and for this reason, capital is unveiled as not racist nor misogynistic; it is not anything; it separates itself by overthrowing its own origin myth; it doesn’t want anything; it doesn’t lack anything. It’s an environment, and therefore alive, and therefore complete.
The oil wars, the water wars, the border wars, the terror wars, the drug wars and the plague wars are categorically not mimetic desire writ large. There is no competition with the world-set nor with any of its subsets but only a constant tendency towards re-engineered symbiosis. The other does not desire what I desire, the other does not desire at all, nor is desire a principle of movement, - capital does not desire, and it certainly doesn’t desire the array of objects realised by oppression. (Other than as the playthings of representation.)
The /wars on/ of the last three decades were not prosecuted in pursuit of profit but for the joy of investment. Where profit is a motive, and a cause that lies somewhat displaced from the action, it is what the rationalising, retrofitting explanatory mechanisms, ends and means and the cui bono were invented for. But investment, the real and realising movement of capital through given forms towards full abstraction, is not a motive but a mode of relation both complete, and therefore joyously complete, in itself.
The idea that recent exponential global transformations, the self-actualising /one-handedness/ of things (the measures taken and the counter-measures taken as a single and unified entity), and moving exponentially outwards (this is written in the moment two shopkeeps have soared into space) is somehow driven by factors of motive derived from loss, and that such extravagant flourishing is tethered to a falling rate of profit - innovation constrained by lack - is not at all supported by direct experience. There is no crisis of capital but in the sense of ce que le tigre est dans l'espace. When it all comes through man, that’s something else.
We can see that capital is, in a sense, tethered to the concrete and to what it converts into representation but the tethering is more umbilical than carceral. But again, to extend the reproductive metaphor, the transfer of energy between the abstract and the concrete flows in both directions - mother function and foetus function is equally distributed. The child is also mother to the tiger.
The constant genie-like revolutionising, and metamorphosing of form, is just the natural process of second nature. There is always a sense, as capital exits yet another given which it has just then realised, of a Deus ex machina in reverse.
So take courage my friends, even as the repressive measures of the lockdown appear to extend not as an exception but as the rule to every horizon, really it’s just spectacle, there’s a party of the maskless and unvaccinated nearby - and it’s rocking the veritable split as neg-attractor basin. I’m not joking! Capital is playing Dupin in its own locked room mystery. It’s taken the role of junky and is using Covid as tourniquet on its quest for the mainline of the real.
The bad days will not end but there is an endless variety in their ceaseless procession and we need to cling to something.
Love
Rizy Laser
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