Saturday, June 9, 2007


Maybe Schopenhauer was right (I shouldn't say that. I've only read a chapter or two).

Maybe there are only two things: I and everything else. Subject/Object. Maybe this talk of multiplicities is an excuse. Maybe I am irriducible, autonomous, partitioning and unpartitionable. Ultimately alone (for the object can never intrude upon the subject, never penetrate me, stab me in the I).

Maybe the postmodern pursuit of the fractured self is nothing but an excuse for the shame of lonelyness.

Maybe the assumption is backwards. Maybe the problem is not the fascism of humanism, the dehumanizing assumption that there exists an I and maybe you are not it (if I can't see you, if I only see your object). Maybe we err when we point at the xenophobia of subjective autonomy.

Maybe the mistake is the incomplete adoption of the subject/objet: I am not I enough when I gaze in your eyes and see mine. Perhaps the problem is not the dehumanizing of the other, but the anthropomorphizing (as Elam slays Haver). If, as Schopenhauer says, there is only the subject and the object, and the two halves do not overlap at all, then you are always object. There is no you beyond my representation of you. So maybe the mistake is not in assuming the I, but in eyeing (I-ing) the you (not ewe).

But then what about eyeing myself (speculating with my internal speculum)? Where does the I-for-myself fit into the I-in-myself? Can I object my subject, or must I object to such an intrusion?

And were are bodies in all of this?

PS. Maybe Freud was right about penis envy (by accident). Maybe women want penises so men will stop being such dicks. Penis envy as a corridor to platonic love?