Territories Desire

Territories Desire

If there are territories of desire___and indeed there are Sir, __ but they exist as Outsides not dominated by the signifier dictatorship of the text's Boss__ the one formerly writing under the name God, then we are in them, we fiddle around in the milieu unknowingly. As each of us, is a territory, flake flittering over our own body-without-organs, then we seek what, precisely? A word speaking to a word won't do. A text talking back to another won't do either. Maybe it's just time to do the laundry.

If_____ why say if, how if, when if, who if, whence if__ not if, but becomings over the threshing hold, body-without-organs.
As the egg laid of the formal template dares its opening, unlatching flue, ceaseless line.

Catapult .

Clifford Duffy

'Deterritorializing and


Deterritorializing and

Deterriorializing is not the same__ as__deconstructing is about texts, Deterritorializing is about connecting different machines, literary, artistic, schizo, to an Outside. 'Derrideans' often misread this assuming everything in the world is text, even their noses.
But Professor Challenger, and Doctor Pierre Felix Guattari teach us otherwise.
Connect your wee machine, to an Outside where the Air.

Air, indeed, a literary world cannot be unbound to everyday.
They teach us otherwise otherwise otherwise.
Wise.__ Sobriety__ we learn wise to become its learning as pages pass into the other side.
Not only text,but the plurality of becomings.

That your passive sentence for instance. And your mouth fragment is love. That the schizo sentence is okay. Alright. acceptable. Not the promising of injury to what's been debated inside of yourself.

But a body without organs, and intensities of particles. As yourselves mutate multiple beings becoming.

This becomes an essay by virtue of its paradox.

In the non-deconstuction model it's about a path, a schizoid break line where passages occur. A body-without-organs, a wave over the body. A n intensity of lived experience. Fictions.

Clifford Duffy's DeleuzoGuattarian Fiction are show cased at
Deleuze Studies Manchester .

-----------------from Site ---------------RaPpEl-------------------------
 site Rappel

09 NOVEMBER 2013


letterpress workshop / center for book arts / nyc

Most of my work is digital but this week I went back in time and tried out letterpress printing because I wanted to see how it works, what's involved - and how it fits in with the history of printing....

perfect spies and

Is Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle the same uncertainty we have with any future event at the smallest observable level?

Art and Poetry at quantum art and poetry - 6 hours ago
*Video explaining an objective quantum field theory * Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle between position and momentum ∆×∆p×≥h/4π and between energy and time ∆E ∆t ≥ h/2π is not a limitation of our ability to measure what is happening. It is a part of the physical structure of the Universe. This theory gives us an objective understanding of this with time as an emergent property with the future is coming into existence with each new photon of energy (photon electron coupling). This forms a process of continuous energy exchange relative to the position and momentum of the atoms.... more »


richard lopez at Really Bad Movies - 19 hours ago
*a short note on lou reed* i was in anaheim yesterday walking in downtown disney when anna checked her iPhone and told me lou reed had died at the early age of 71. i was shocked not by his death. we all will pass away someday. but by his age. i am not being ironic when i call dying at 71 'early' for nowadays it is. but that reed for me was ageless in a way the very cool are ageless. reed for me bypassed youth long long ago and entered time like a delta bluesman where things like youth and seniority matter not and a person becomes a Presence. lou reed was such a Presence. whe... more »

Gilles Bonnecarrère, Male Dancers Wanted, 1976

pornochio at discipline in disorder - 2 days ago
*«New York, 1976. I am twenty-three years old. The house where i was living, wedged between two buildings at 42 Water Street, has just burned down. All that it held is gone. On a bench in Battery Park i find an old Village Voice with the following ad : «Male dancers wanted (experience not necessary)». On 46th street, near Broadway, i climb the narrow staircase up to a cashier’s window. Denise, the boss, says : « Are you here for the job ? Come in, have a look, see if you can do it.“* Trouvé hier chez Yvon Lambert ce grand bouquin blanc, tiré seulement à 400 copies, renfermant des ... more »

Corry Shores at Pirates & Revolutionaries - 2 days ago
by Corry Shores [*Search Blog Here*. Index-tags are found on the bottom of the left column.] [Central Entry Directory] [The Dainton – Gallagher Phenomenal Time Debate, entry directory] [All underlining, boldface, and bracketed commentary are my own. Proofreading is incomplete, so mistakes are still currently present.] Barry Dainton “Time in Experience: Reply to Gallagher” Reply to: Gallagher, Shaun. Sync-ing in the Stream of Experience: Time-Consciousness in Broad, Husserl and Dainton, Psyche 9(10), April 2003 Abstract [quoting]: Consciousness exists in time, but tim... more »


ohn Le Carré, A Perfect Spy, 1986

xgatitox at discipline in disorder - 17 minutes ago
J'ai longtemps eu une tendance à passer à coté de Le Carré. Ne me corrigez pas si je me trompe mais je ne dois pas être le seul. Pourquoi? trop 'légitime'? trop gros? trop 'propre sur soi', Espionnage? Déjà que… Espionnage à papa? etc, etc. L'écrivain le moins branché du monde? On le sait bien ici, une pile de mauvaises raisons ça fait une bonne raison s'y coller, et puis Garnier, Roth, ont toujours dit qu' *A Perfect Spy*, c'était très bien. Oui, c'est très bien. Mieux même. On va faire vite, pas besoin d'une vraie review, juste deux trois trucs en passant en forme de LISEZ-LE. Le ... more »

call it


every lover's born your breasts
come to my pillage. here inside tongue
tusk. its mere whim
callow the wheezing
blue. green. vermilion. cerulean.
you are young handsome . Light. as a fiarce.
or a grand Guignol. I am inside your thighs.
running hand over your river.
call your telephone name. its 1-800-love-
love propinquity. Mobiles rush to your name.

__dawn we're dusted with sweat.
ive waited all your life for this .
seconding of weeping.

already we rush   ~


every lover's born your breasts.
come to my pillage. here inside tongue
tusk. its mere whim
callows the wheezing
blue. green. vermillion. cerulean.
you are . Light. as a fiarce.
or a grand guignol. I am inside your thighs.
running hand over your river.
call your telephone name. its 1-800- lo
ve propinquity. Mobiles rush to your name.

-dawn we're dusted with sweat.
ive waited all your life for this .
seconding of weeping.

Already we rush ~

more "the misshapen heads of michel foucault"


more "the misshapen heads of michel foucault"




'my fuck bird!~'

the letters contrary to what this blogger wrote, are  in fact, not out of print. And itwas Joyce himself who hailed the publication of his private life in Ulyses and his own scrivenered biography as by Gorman and others. who really were him. there is only one man in the end, and she's a lady
joyce's 'dirty' love letters to Nora the fuckbirdmistresswife!


Does anyone have the right to read things that were clearly meant only for two specific people, i.e. Jim and Fuckbird? Now that they have been exposed to the world’s gaze, albeit in a fairly limited fashion, does anybody except these two (who are dead) have any right to make objections about or exercise control over the manner in which these private documents and records of intimacy are used?

she thought/ it w/as a /cat/knot a bog

we reblogged

“She thought for the first time in her life that it was nothing that was hers, that belonged to her,”

Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?, Joyce Carol Oates (via

Joyce Carol Oates is James’ Joyce’s sister/His Double. She added the Oates to conceal her identity and avoid scandal/





'I just got back from the enchanted moonscapes of Cappadocia in Turkey where (some) people still live in fairy chimneys, conical tuff rocks with pointed tops hollowed out from the inside.


These term-words as I call them could be fictionalized in the deleuze/guattari capers etcetera
    I like to think of these terms of epistemic  tags usable to generate fictions and at times, fictive devices.


"‘Listen, Jacopo, I thought of a good one: Urban Planning for Gypsies.’
‘Great,’ Belbo said admiringly. ‘I have one, too: Aztec Equitation.’
‘Excellent. But would that go with Potio-section or the Anynata?’
‘We’ll have to see.’ Belbo said. He rummaged in his drawer and took out some sheets of paper. ‘Potio-section…’ He looked at me, saw my bewilderment. ‘Potio-section, as everybody knows, is the art of slicing soup. No, no,’ he said to Diotallevi. ‘It’s not a department, it’s a subject, like Mechanical Avunculogratulation or Pylocatabasis. They all fall under the heading of Tetrapyloctomy.’
‘What’s tetra…?’
The art of splitting a hair four ways. Mechanical Avunculogratulation, for example, is how to build machines for greeting uncles.’"


                                                 my crystal ball

 But who knows?
What I’m doing with

my life
I' m counting on you honey. You're a lover wanting the big thing, the unruly moment.

Something strange that brings you together with me inevitably. Like a lover does, with her mouth and charms, and those paradoxial belles jours longing between both.

Okay, you're a writer like me and you've lived, or live, near abysses, precipices, and you've come round. Here, like anywhere else. A friend who's called a lover. A sack of gold between the sheets, a ribbon for your cake.

Looking around in an open fashion some days, and at other times I am more clandestine.

between entre.. les devenirs... becomings

Having travelled half way round the world and seen a lot of cities
I 'd like to find a perch?
hang off a tree
peer out of your window
"I’m really good at"

"The first things people usually notice about me"

O let's say the first thing they notice about me is You.

"My favorite books, movies, music, and food"

for now:
... authors:Shakespeare, Tristan Tzara, James Joyce Deleuze and Guattari/ Mozart Stravinsky now the list could go on. We both know that. You're eclectic.
The six things I could never do without

                     la poésie
"I spend a lot of time thinking about"
"Why I don't c                                                                   are much for politics" but still read the Huffington post

How it is people keep lying.
"On a typical Friday night I am"
really wonderin how these boxy things work.. its quite amusing
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
"O come on now "

Okie dokie: adding things

the secret of your beauty
I’m looking for
"Located anywhere"
Who are single"

".... message me if"
say you are rich and I am Henry Miller,
or say you are wealthy and Im not Miller, or combinations of any number rather bohemian luxuries of that sort.
if you're bold,
and lean left while looking right

 you are made of spiders and fibrillating weaves
  Or if you are poor
      or middle class

and outside of the box

If you're moved to~
you have a telephone
a radio
a shoe
a terrace
book of poems

something else


if you like

             Why I don't care much for politics but still read the ....                post.

'...  people keep lying.'  '... I know if you lie it's for a cause that remains mysterious to me, and perhaps obscures a superficial fact.

"I wonder how you are and how we'd connect." That each delicate step between us is a charm of love, a play of desire.
"Message me"  or rather I'll rather I'll message you between the lines. 
Did you come here to live in a box, a strata?
Here's a story:

start again hold the page
   come the rage
    be my friend
  my only
   between this place and yours
      of  you and me
         of you and I

       style again
     hold your horses
      there's a man underneath these pages
     who never left you
   a l  w  a   y    s

   life  went  on
    it   w   a   s    h             a   r   d
    hard  as my me for you

                              holding you