Archives for posts with tag: Lyotard

‘the present object evokes the absent one, in its place.

Other of the there, who is there, there where light takes place without place, there where sounds resounds without duration, and so forth.

A witness in proportion to there being none, and there can be no witness of this blow that, we repeat, abolishes the periods, the surfaces of the archive. The tables of memory fall to dust, the blow has not passed.’

Jean-Francois Lyotard   ‘The confession of Augustine’

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Fissure

The here and now, the stretches of time, the places, the lives and the I present themselves as fissured, or rather, fissure continually. The field of reality, discourse included, fissures in its entirety, like a struck glass…

No longer will there be night and day… Henceforth it is fissured day and fissured night. And it is in the minuscule chink of this fissure that the stilus is styled, in the precarious, reciprocal balance of enigma and demonstration.

Jean-Francois Lyotard   The Confession of Augustine