15 Aborting the human race
Nick Land
[M]an is by nature a political animal. He who is stateless by nature
and not just by chance is either subhuman or superhuman, like the
man reviled by Homer as 'classless, lawless, hearthless'; for being
naturally without a state, he is a lover of war and may be compared to
an unprotected piece in a game of draughts. (Aristotle, Politics).
Perceived under the perspective of action, Nietzsche's work is an
abortion... (Georges Bataille).
I
However else it is possible to divide Western thinking, one fissure can be
teased-open separating the theo-humanists - croaking together in the
cramped and malodorous pond of Anthropos - from the wild beasts of the
im personal.
The form er are characterized by their moral fervour,
parochialism, earnestness, phenomenological disposition, and sympathy for
folk superstition; the latter by their fatalism, atheism, strangely reptilian
exuberance, and extreme sensitivity for what is icy, savage, and alien to
mankind. Nietzsche is perhaps the greatest of all anti-humanist writers.
At the very least, his writings attest to the most powerful eruption of
impersonality in the occidental world since it was rotted by the blight of
the Nazarene.
It is possible that Herakleitus was more effortlessly
inhuman, and that - beneath the shadow of the cross - Spinoza and Sade
occasionally reach a comparable pitch of anegoic coldness, but nowhere
outside Nietzsche's texts is there an antipersonalistic war-machine of
equivalent ferocity.
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It is deliberate ignorance o f Schopenhauer which allows humanist
readings of Nietzsche to proliferate so shamelessly; readings in which a socalled 'superman' prefigures an existential choice for mankind, in which
eternal recurrence is a personal - or even ethical - predicament, in which
affirmation is an act of voluntary consent, will to power is a psychological
description o f self-assertion, and values are subjectively legislated
idealities.
It should not be necessary explicitly to recollect that, on the basis of his
reading of Schopenhauer, Nietzsche assumed the unconsciousness and
impersonality of will or desire, and never indicates a regression to a
Kantian/hum anist understanding of this matter.
Nor should it be
necessary to re-assert the intrinsic connection between the will and the
transcendental problematic of time, inherited from the same source. The
same could be said about the obvious reference to Schopenhauer exhibited
in the very expression 'will to power', the Schopenhauerian germ for the
thought of 'rank-order' in that o f 'grades of objectification', the
architectonic connection between Schopenhauer and Nietzsche in terms of
the history of philosophy, the crucial Schopenhauerian background to
N ietsche's rem arks about wom en, etc. N ietzsche's break with
Schopenhauer is of extreme profundity, but it remains a break with
Schopenhauer, rather than some kind of ahistorical existential inspiration.
If stressing the importance of Schopenhauer to the entire sweep of
Nietzsche's writing was merely to polemicize on behalf of elementary
standards of scholarship, it would be a piece of academicist moralism of
the shoddiest sort. The crucial issue is not that reading Nietzsche without
reference to Schopenhauer gets Nietzsche wrong, but that it makes him
more humane. Schopenhauer is the great well-spring of the impersonal in
post-Kantian thought; the sole member of the immediately succeeding
generation to begin vomiting monotheism out of their cosmology in order
to attack the superstition of self.
The repression of Schopenhauer's
thinking is continuous with the co-option of Nietzsche back into the
m onotheistic/hum anistic fold of ontologically grounded subjects, real
choices, existential individuation, irreducible persons, ethical norms, and
suchlike metaphysical garbage. Whether or not some kind of tentative
antihumanism is then launched on the basis of a quasi-phenomenological or
deconstructive gesture, is scarcely a matter worthy of great excitement,
except for those concerned to choose between Luther and the pope.
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II
That finality has been an overt issue throughout the history of modern
philosophy has been mainly due to the struggle against the Aristotelian
tendencies of scholasticism by the thinkers of the enlightenment. It is
because of this history that finality is normally conceived in terms of an
opposition between teleology and mechanism, or between final and
efficient causation, since this distinction is the 17th and 18th century
battle-front between the church and modern science.
Finality was
associated above all with the teleological argument for the existence of
God - the argument from design - according to which nature is open to
theological interpretation as the approximation to a divine blue-print.
For Aristotle the theological dimension of teleology is closely bound to
its libidinal dimension, since desire is understood as a tendency towards an
intrinsic perfection whose ultimate key-stone is the sufficiency of God.
The telos or goal of all striving is something presupposed by activity, such
that desire m ust already have received its potential for realization
extrinsically, thus preserving the Platonic association between Eros and
subordination. Both Aristotelian and scholastic usage of teleology is
dependent upon the thought of originary perfection or God, subordinating
desire to the sufficiency of complete being. In other words, theological
time is encompassed by perfection or absolute achievement, which enslaves
becoming to a timeless potential of that which becomes. Such a potential
is a design, archetype, or plan, existing ideally and eternally in the
supreme intellect, and usurping all creativity from nature.
For those familiar with the general tenor of Kant's attempt to harmonize
the com peting ideologies of established authority and progress, the
predominant character of his response to the problem of finality will be
something less than shocking. The combination of theoretical agnosticism
and practical apologetics, which he employs in the first two critiques in
order to legitimate a responsible space for science alongside instituted
power, is still operative in the third. The potential of the theologians is
smuggled into the Critique o f Judgement as the possibility of a complete
system o f science, a regulative idea which derives from the originary
perfection of reason. Even though teleology loses its right to dogmatic
theorizing, it continues to guide the thought of nature in terms of the
infinitely accomplished idea.
In order not to inhibit the developm ent of the sciences Kant de
naturalizes teleology, lodging its redoubt in his practical philosophy, and
therefore in reason.
A rational being or persona is to be practically
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conceived not as a natural entity - a delirious close of matter - but as an
end in itself; imbued a priori with a potential for perfect goodness that is
only sullied by the pathological factors of its animal existence.
The
realization of the human perfection that is embryonically presupposed by
reason is the endless task of morality, wherein process approximates to the
timeless form of its utter accomplishment.
It is thus that, like Plato,
Aristotle, and the Church, Kant thinks goodness as perfectly instituted in
advance, as a supersensibly derived potential.
Schopenhauer seeks to extricate the though of finality from this
theological framework, but his success is strictly limited. Although he
eradicates the theological dogma of originary intellect from his philosophy
he continues to rely on the notion of Platonic Ideas to interpret natural
processes, and thus succumbs in turn to the finalist doctrine of potential, in
the form of a Kantian transcendental perfectionism. Schopenhauer, too,
deprives desire of creativity, by conceiving all its possible consequences as
eternal potentialities of the noumenal will. Desire as the will to life is
merely the perpetual re-instantiation of pre-given forms.
Despite the problems to which he succumbs, Schopenhauer's philosophy
makes a number of important advances, by initiating a war against the
intellectualist interpretation of will, beginning the rigorous separation of
affective intensity from phenomenality, and germinating a philosophy of
scalar or stratal difference.
In three crucial anti-Kantian gestures he
argues that 'the will always appears as the primary and fundamental thing,
and throughout asserts its pre-eminence over the intellect' (Schopenhauer
III, 231), that '[phenom enon means representation and nothing more'
(Schopenhauer I, 154), whilst 'we are quite wrong in calling pain and
pleasure representations' (I, 144], and continually refers to 'the ascending
series of animal organizations', 'the scale of animals' (III, 327), and more
generally to 'grades o f the will's objectivity' (I, 179), or degrees of
'stimulation or excitment' (III, 240). In Schopenhauer's philosophy such
thinking rem ains uncom fortably w edded to a series of bilateral
disjunctions between the transcendental and the empirical, subject and
object, thing in itself and appearance, etc. , and is thus marshalled under
the metaphysical dignity of man, whose nervous-system he describes as
'nature's final product' (III, 320). It nevertheless marks the departure of
a voyage in intensity, one that Nietzsche exacerbates beyond the threshold
of the irreparable.
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Ill
In his appendix to The Metaphysics o f Sexual Love Schopenhauer cites the
claim in Aristotle’s Politics that: 'For children of people too old as well as
too young leave much to be desired in both a physical and mental regard,
and children of those in advanced years are weaklings’. A little later he
comments:
Aristotle, therefore, lays down that a man who is fifty-four years of
age should not have any more children, though he may still continue
cohabitation for the sake of his health or for any other reason. He
does not say how this is to be carried into effect, but he is obviously
of the opionion that children conceived when their parents are of such
an age should be disposed of by abortion, for he had recommended
this a few lines previously (IV, 660).
The contexts for this peculiar remark is a discussion of pederasty, or the
libidinal architectonics of classical idealism.
The philosophical or
academ ic relation is hom oerotic and inter-generational; a restricted
pedagogy that mimics the unit of patrilineal reproduction. Schopenhauer's
endeavour is to map out a descriptive eugenics that is able to provide
biological intelligibility for such a relation, and the consequence indicated by his Aristotle citation - is his suggestion that pederasty diverts
young and old males from procreative sexuality, in order to forestall the
racial deterioration that would result from the transm ission of their
inadequately formed or decrepit sperm. It is thus that a subterranean
complicity is exposed between the Idea (or perfect form), patriarchy, and
racial hygiene.
Pederasty substitutes for abortion, translating it into the homoerotic
bond, and reproducing it in conformity with the dominion of achieved
form.
The radical abortion of tragedy and irredeem able waste is
Socratically sublimated into the service of the Idea, becoming a police
function of theistic sociality, within a political economy of managed
sperm.
There is a superficial pre-conscious stratum of N ietzsche’s
writing that harmonizes closely with such a politics, for instance the note
numbered 734 in The Will to Power which argues:
Society, as the great trustee of life, is responsible to life itself for
every aborted life - it also has to pay for such lives: consequently it
ought to prevent them. In numerous cases, society ought to prevent
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procreation: to this end, it may hold in readiness, without regard to
descent, rank or spirit, the most rigorous means of constraint,
deprivation of freedom , in certain circum stances castration
(Nietzsche, III, 923).
There is little to perturb the Aristotelian legacy in such a remark, except
for a strange interference between abortions and forestallings (the German
series verfehlen, verhindern, vorbeugen). In Nietzsche's text abortion in the loose sense Schopenhauer has opened - is both the possible outcome
of procreative anarchy and that which characterizes a eugenic regime.
Both of these senses are in play in his famous remark from Ecce Homo:
'no abortion was missing, not even the antisemite' (II, 1119). Procreation
is aborted in order to avoid the procreation of abortions.
If social
institutions are to avoid being aborted, abortion must be socially
institutionalized.
If Nietzsche's argument is somewhat tangled at this
point is is because something essential to the classical model of reason has
miscarried.
Unlike the will to life, the will to power is not driven by the tendency to
realize and sustain a potential, its sole impetus is that of overcoming itself.
It has no motivating end, but only a propulsive source. It is in this sense
that will to power is creative desire, without a pre-figured destination or
anticipatory perfection. It is an arrow shot into the unconceived. Will to
power names the pre-representational impetus for which life is a tool, and
for which tendency is inextricable from intensity. At the heart of the
terminological motor driving Nietzsche's writings lie a series of nouns of
action, each of which subverts a dogma by designating a genealogical
topic. N ietzsche transcribes m oraliza tion fully as 'the genealogy of
morals', but the genealogy of logic is initiated under the compact rubric of
equalization (or logicization), as is the case with eternalization,
simplication, divinization, legislation, etc. It is in this way that will to
power is transcribed into thought by the first stammerings of a positive
atelelogical syntax.
Schopenhauer is a philosopher of primal non-differentiation because he
conceives representation as individuating, according to the spatial and
temporal isolation imposed by the principle of sufficent reason. Nietzsche
recasts this principle into a general tendency to assimilation which he
names 'equalization' (Ausgleichung), and it is this that makes him the first
post-Kantian philosopher of difference. In his notes he succinctly asserts:
'the will to equality is the will to power' (III, 500). Despite superficial
appearances, however, the difference between Schopenhauer and Nietzsche
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is not simply that between thoughts of indifference and difference. It is
more a question of phases in the emergent thinking of unilateral or non
reciprocal difference, which departs from the bilateral difference
synonymous with ontology. Between the organic and the inorganic, for
instance, there is not a bilateral or reciprocal exclusion, but rather a
unilateral separation of the organic within the inorganic, such that the
difference between the two is wholly im m anent to the inorganic as
primary term. This is the profound sense of economy: the energetic
consistency between zero-intensity and its deviations, or between a noun of
action and the antonym of its simple noun (e.g. between matter and
spiritualization). It is because such consistency cannot be thought within
the bilateral or non-contradiction logics traditionally countenanced that
Schopenhauer was inhibited from its radical excavation.
The recurrence o f the same cannot be differentiated from the
unilaterality of difference, which is to say that recurrence is the
consistency of difference with equalization. It is not that energy is what
recurs as the same, but rather than energy is the economic sense of
recurrence as unilateral consistency. Recurrence is not a configuration of
energy or cosmic economy, but the very impact of undifferentiable zero;
the abortion o f transcendence.
To think the real sim ultaneity of
unsurpassable chaotic zero with the triumph of reactivity, such that the
only repressed is the unrepressible, is to think recurrence, and any
suggestion that eternal recurrence is a cosmology describable acording to a
principle of non-contradiction is to entirely lose the matter of Nietzsche's
excitement, i.e. the unilateral, materialist, or genealogical interpretation of
difference. The sole philosophical rigor of recurrence splashes our of the
pulverizing inundation of bilateral distinctions by indifferent matter.
Spirit is different from matter and matter once again, culture is different
from nature and nature once again, order is different from chaos and
chaos once again, just as life is unilaterally different from death, plenitude
from zero, reactive from active forces, etc. Transcendence is both real
and impossible, as is the human race.
'Once again' is a term which Nietzsche's text binds inextricably to the
rumour of eternal recurrence, for instance in Section 341 of The Gay
Science - often taken to be the first 'announcement' of the doctrine of
return - where Nietzsche twice uses the same formulation to describe
recurrence, 'once again, and again innumerable times [noch einmal and
noch unzahlige Male]' (11,202). There are many places where this term
plays a decisive role in his writings, amongst which are those marking the
repressed unilaterality at the base of metaphysical binarities, for example
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in his notebooks he remarks:
The 'A' of logic is, like the atom, a reconstruction of the thing. If
we do not grasp this, but make of logic a criterion of true being, we
are on the way to positing as realities all those hypostases: substance,
attribute, object, subject, action, etc.; that is, to conceiving a
metaphysical world, that is, a 'real world' (- this, however, is the
apparent world once again -) (111,538).
The 'real world', however one has hitherto conceived it - it has
always been the apparent world once again (111,689).
Spirit is different from m atter and m atter once again, culture is
different from nature and nature once again, order is different from chaos
and chaos once again, just as life is unilaterally different from death,
plenitude from zero, reactive from active forces, etc. Transcendence is
both real and impossible as is the human race.
W hether of Judaic of Platonic inspiration, monotheism rests upon
hypostatizing the differential element of the human animal. It is because
spirit, personality, reason, and law have all been taken as defining
characteristics of man, that one finds the cosmos crushed under an absolute
spirit, an infinite personality, pure reason, and perfect justice. When
confronted by the gothic intimidation synonymous with Western culture it
is hard to re-excavate the fact that one is merely dealing with a beast
advantaged by a measure of superior cunning, a hypertrophic facility for
the transfer of information, and an opposable thumb.
The meaning of humanity is abuse of the vanquished; the transformation
of intensive difference into metaphysical disjunction. The libidinal sense
of Platonism, for instance, is the paralyzation of an intensive ascent in
accordance with an exhaustive concept. Intensive spiritualization is fixed
as consummate spirit, thus leveling out desire onto the stagnant plateau of
theological idealism dom inated by Christendom. Upon this plateau
progress in extension remains possible - scientific, technical, and industrial
growth for instance - but such development is rigidly constrained by its
infrastructural libidinal petrification; imprisoned in the humanity whose
first instance was Socrates, and whose horizonal limit is Christ.
The broad strokes of Nietzsche's diagnosis are well known:
I count life itself as an instinct for growth, for duration, for amassing
of force for p o w e r : where the will to power is lacking there is
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decline. My assertion is that this will is lacking for all the highest
values of humanity - that decline-values, nihilistic values, pursue
dominion under the most hallowed names (II, 1167-8).
It is the devaluation of the highest values, the convulsion at the zenith of
nihilism, that aborts the human race. Having polarized the high and the
low in extension, humanity finds itself destituted of its idols - which have
purified them selves into overt inexistence - and is thereby plunged
vertiginously into its abjected values; animality, pathology, sensuality, and
materiality. At the end of human civilization there is thus a regression
driven by zero, a violent spasm of relapse whose motor is the cavity of an
extinct telos; the death of God. Zero religion.
As a creature of zero, the overman is not a conceptually intelligible
advance upon humanity.
Any such thing is, in any case, strictly
impossible. Humanity cannot be exacerbated, but only aborted. It is first
necessary to excavate the embryonic anthropoid beast at the root of man,
in order to re-open the intensive series in which it is embedded. If the
overman is an ascent beyond humanity, it is only in the sense of being a
redirection of its intensive foetus.
This is why the overman is
predominantly regressive; a step back from extension in order to leap in
intensity, like the drawing-back of a bow-string.
The zero is the transmission element which integrates active and reactive
impulses at the end of the great Platonic divorce between nature and
culture. Zero is undifferentiable without being a unity, and everything is
re-engaged through zero. Eternal recurrence - the most nihilistic thought
- begins everything again, as history is re-energized through the nihilistic
indifferentiation between zero enthusiasm and enthusiasm for zero.
Passive nihilism is the zero of religion, whilst active nihilism is the
religion of the zero.
On the one hand Schopenhauer's metaphysical
pessim ism as 'a European Buddhism' (Nietzsche II, 767), on the other
Nietzsche's Dionysian pessimism as the exultation of dissolution. Within
the order of bilateralized representation the 'will to nothingness' (II, 837)
is of profound ambivalence:
'either abolish your reverence or - your self.' The latter would be
nihilism; but would not the former also be - nihilism? - This is our
question mark (II, 212).
Nihilism as concrete history is Christianity, and it is only because
Christianity is as impossible as it is real that nature escapes from being
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stigmatized to its foundations by the cult of the Nazarene. Christianity as
inconsistency with m atter recurs consistently with m atter and thus
inconsistently with itself. This is the motor of nihilism; the great zero,
and the impersonal generator of nature and culture in their incompossible
consistency.
Christianity, as Nietzsche insists over and over again in The Antichrist,
is Judaism once again [noch einmal]. 'Once again came the popular
expectation of a M essiah into the foreground' (II, 1202) he writes in
section 40 of The Antichrist, and two pages later, getting a little carried
away; 'once again the priest-instinct of the Jews perpetrated the same great
crim e against history' (II, 1204).
A gainst the tide of Teutonic
antisemitism, with its project of Hellenizing, Aryanizing, and Wagnerizing
Christ, Nietzsche is obsessive in his claim that Christianity is nothing
except a recurrence of Jewish monotheism; which is not a mere repetition,
but a return that both exacerbates and corrodes 'The Christian, this ultima
ratio of the lie, is the Jew once again - three times even' (Ibid., 1206).
Europe is a population whose history has fallen prey to the zealots of the
One; victim to the spreading ripple from the same catastrophe of
monotheism which culturally vivisected the ancient Hebrew warrior tribes
into the broken rabble of apostle's and first Christians, huddling in
wretched destitution beneath the shadow of the cross.
'Once again' - recurrence - does not say that an identity is repeated,
except when thought is devastated by the reciprocity of reason and the
mono-logic of the same. Monotheism is not repeated, but nihilistically
exacerbated by unilateral zero, and driven irresistably into the death of
God where it consumm ates its truth.
There is a savage rigor to
Nietzsche's thinking here:
[T]he little rebellious movement, baptized in the name of Jesus of
Nazareth, is the Jewish instinct once again, in other words, the priestinstinct, which no longer tolerates the priest as a reality, the invention
of a yet more destitute form of existence, a yet more unreal vision of
the world, than that which conditions the organization of a church.
Christianity denies the church...(II, 1189).
When Nietzsche's loathing for Christianity reaches its crescendo it
becomes an obsessive reiteration of the One. One, one, one, over and
over again, monotono-theism (II, 1179) as Nietzsche calls it; a God whose
speculative triad collapses everything into the one, the Father, Son and
Spirit, power, benevolence, and knowledge, the simplicity, equality, and
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ontological individuality of the soul, the entire universe crumpled up
together by a phallic fanaticism for m onolithic form.
C hristian
trinitarianism is the demonstration that everything comes back to One
unless it is zero.
To set up the question of difference as a conflict
between the one and the many is a massive strategic blunder - the Occident
lost its way at this point- the real issue is not one or many, but many and
zero. Nietzsche writes:
W herever there are walls I shall inscribe this eternal accusation
against Christianity upon them - I can write in letters which make
even the blind see...I call Chritianity the one great curse, the one
great instinct depravity, the one great instinct for revenge for which
no expedient is sufficiently poisonous, secret, subterranean, petty - 1
call it the one immortal blemish of m ankind... (II, 1235).
IV
This blemish is not a scar, but a callous, because the association between
God and man is a matter of industrial relations. Unitary being is the
order of work. God who creates and conserves, man who toils; theology
stinks of sweat. Long before Marx, it was monotheism that hallucinated
the earth into a work-house.
As soon as we imagine someone who is responsible for our being thus
and thus, etc. (God, nature), and therefore attribute to him the
intention that we should exist and be happy or wretched, we corrupt
for ourselves the innocence o f becoming. We then have someone
who wants to achieve something through us and with us (III, 542).
History is industrial history, and it only has one goal, which is God.
Nihilism is the loss of this goal, the nullifications of man's end, the
reversion of all work to waste. It is in this sense that history is aborted
by zero. There are those who in their eagerness for the continuation of
effort take N ietzsche's overman to be a new goal, a restoration of
teleology, a task commensurable with the nihilation of history. Perhaps
N ietzsche him self succumbs to such a tem ptation at times, after all,
German protestantism had poisoned his blood. It must nevertheless be
insisted that the world of work perishes with the One, and that zero is an
engine of war.
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When truth steps into the fight against the lies of millenia we shall
have seisms, spasms of earthquake, a displacement of mountain and
valley, the like of which has never been dreamed. The concept of
politics then passes over totally into a war of the spirit, all power
edifices of the old society are blasted into the air - they all rest upon
the lie: there shall be wars as there have never been upon the earth.
From myself onwards, for the first time, is there great politics on the
earth (II, 1153).
Between war and industry is a unilateral difference; industry is different
from war and war once again. This is why great politics is not just an
episode of war, but the very tide of recurrence in its ferocity. Nothing is
great but zero, and great politics is that for which the polis itself falls
victim. Nietzsche is thus utterly incapable of consenting to the Aristotelian
dictum, in his Politics, that 'the art of war is a natural subdivision of the
art of acquisition' (Aristotle, 16), associated with his assertion that 'tame
animals have a better nature than wild ones' (Ibid.). In its uninhibited and
extravagant root war does not serve the state.
Even in his earliest
writings Nietzsche is explicit that the order of dependence is quite to the
contrary, and that the polis - along with its telic integration - is a
consequence of pre-political militarism. In a text from the early 1870's
called The Greek State Nietzsche notes that:
Whoever contemplates war and its uniformed possibility, the military
[Soldatenstand], in relation to the previously outlined essence of the
state, must come to the insight that through war and the military an
image, or perhaps rather a blue-print of the state is set before our
eyes. Here we see, as the most general effect of the tendency to war,
an immediate separation and division of chaotic masses into military
castes, upon which the edifice of the 'warrior society' raises itself,
pyram idally, upon the lowest, broadest, slavish stratum.
The
unconscious purpose of the entire movement compels each individual
under its yoke and generates even with heterogeneous natures a
sim ilar chemical transformation of their properites, until they are
brought into purposive affinity (Nietzsche, III, 284).
Much later, and more importantly, Zarathustra tells us:
You should love peace as a means to new wars. And the short peace
more than the long one.
I do not advise you to work, rather to
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struggle (II, 312).
These are the most profound words in the history of military thought; the
libidinal comprehension of peace as a unilateral differentiation from war.
On its extensive or political plane war appears as the antagonistic
juxtaposition of constellated forces, but on its intensive or cosmic axis it is
a metamorphosis of forces; their relative decomposition from strategic
ensem bles and purposes, towards tactical fragm ents and initiatives;
dissolvant excitations at the edge of zero, the goalless p o le m o s of
H erakleitean flux.
In extension war can appear to be oriented to
appropriation, domination, and subordination, but intensively it develops
according to tendencies of subtilization, infiltration, and dissolution. It is
not that there is merely a desire for war (variously named by Nietzsche
the 'thirst for destruction' [111,821], 'the drive to destroy, anarchism,
nihilism' [III, 708], 'will to nothingness' [II, 900, III, 738]): war in its
intensive sense is desire itself, convulsive recurrence, unilateral zero.
W ar against mankind.
References
Aristotle, (1959), Politics, London.
Bataille, Georges, Oeuvres Completes, I & II Denis Hollier, III & IV
Thadee Klossowski, V Mme Leduc, VI Henri Ronse and J.M. Rey (eds.),
Paris.
Kant, Immanuel, Werkausgabe, Weischedel, W. (ed.), Frankfurt am Main.
Nietzsche, Friedrich, Werke, Schlechta, K. (ed.), Frankfurt am Main.
Schopenhauer, A. Ziircher Ausgabe: Werke in zehn Banden, text follows
historisch-kritischen Ausgabe by Arthur Hiibscher, editorial materials
acquired by Angelike Hiibscher, Schm olders, C., Senn, F. and
Hafafmans, G. (eds.), Zurich.
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