ok, jeesh...how do i do this. i've got divergent interests.
the first is props for the society of american archivists' annual meeting. it's going on now...link here. as derrida says (and this is HUGE):
...the concept of the archive must inevitably carry in itself, as does every concept, an unknowable weight. The presupposition of this weight also takes on the figures of "repression" and "suppression," even if it cannot necessarily be reduced to these. This double presupposition leaves an imprint. It inscribes an impression in language and in discourse. The unknowable weight that imprints itself thus does not weigh only as a negative charge. It involves the history of the concept, it inflects archive desire or fever, their opening on the future, their dependency with respect to what will come, in short, all that ties knowledge and memory to the promise.
always already politics in naming and organizing.
here's where it gets weird, different, or better. i was cleaning out my "old" study and came across some old Bukowski that i used to use in classes i taught at a community college during and right after my M.A.
as i remember it, my pedagogy might have been better then. it certainly was unbridled. here's an old handout.
the people are weary, unhappy, frustrated, the people are
bitter and vengeful, the people are deluded and fearful, the
people are angry and uninventive
and I drive among them on the freeway and they project
what is left of themselves in their manner of driving-
some more hateful, more thwarted than others-
some don't like to be passed, some attempt to keep others
-some attempt to block lane changes
-some hate cars of a newer, more expensive model
-others in these cars hate the older cars.
the freeway is a circus of cheap and petty emotions, it's
humanity on the move, most of them coming from someplace
hated and going to another they hate just as much or
the freeways are a lesson in what we have become and
most of the crashes and deaths are the collision
of incomplete beings, of pitiful and demented
when I drive the freeways I see the soul of humanity of
my city and it's ugly, ugly, ugly: the living have choked the
um, er, yeah.