怒火, 可以燒毀人的靈魂

怒火,
可以燒毀人的靈魂
更可以燒毀整個世界

這幾天, 我們自由地溝通相處, 都是顯出你的進步和進步
我又好像習慣了, 又或者說令我感到渾身「自在」而漂漂然吧
對於今晚你的提問, 回想我真的好像瘋了一樣, 我想你的心和ck傘一樣, 被我的怒火「折斷」了
回想你那哭到扭曲了的面容, 我更心痛...

對於這段關係, 我認為什麼都做了, 我也覺之前做的也夠了
可是, 你說的很對, 現在好像只有你一方很努力很用力的重修昔日的橋樑
而我, 一看見你有半點不滿, 就用皮鞭打你, 迫你快點
你罵的完全對, 我只在享受你給力的成果, 而沒有半點自責和負出
對不起, 我這個人平時儲起的怒火, 一爆真的會毀滅自己的靈魂, 也傷害了你堅強的心靈

還有, 認錯一事
失約或做錯了事, 先認錯, 後才請求解釋的機會

對泛民初選的擔心

原本只是想看有個泛民陣營的人在來緊一系列的後選特首論壇上質問豬/狼關於政制(最重要是普選)發展的問題, 會有點公民教育的作用, 所以昨天才會幫泛民初選helper(其實有點津貼), 可是整天的票站經驗, 令我開始擔心一場所謂的泛民初選, 是否真的能穿教育市民去關心香港的民主發展?

令人反感的投票的原因


昨日的經驗令我對民主黨的一些行為甚為反感, 就是他們在票站附近叫人投票的原因,  當中甚少提及他們想參與小圈子選舉的質問建制派的目的, 而有大部分原因如下:

1)"投票就係爭取民主, 所以一定要黎投票", 還有加埋一大堆民主條路好難行之流的說話來打個卑情牌, 如果投票就是爭取民主的話, 那民主對你們的定義只是一個投票機制, 換句說話只要可以投, 無論投可樂百事七喜也沒所謂, 即使你不喜歡汽水, 只你可以參與投票這算民主!? 這樣教育市民什麼是民主, 只是投一票就叫民主實踐, 難怪香港民主的路那麼難行啦

2)"雖然未有得一人一選特首, 但你地依家可以一人一票選住個泛民特首後選人先", 難怪有論者說民主黨的政治理念只局限在「參與」, 而這種的參與確實令我質疑他們只為了自己黨(或曰「保守泛民」)的利益, 因為就算你們想推一個泛民特首後選人去與建制派辯論, 卻限制其他人參與, 只有保守的何和一個更保守的基給我們選, 這樣和阿爺只給豬和狼我們選有什麼分別?選舉, 應該是公開它的參與權吧? 這樣如果面對泛民初選已經一個小圈子選舉, 這個人有什麼資格代表我去參與一個更小圈子的特首選舉

3)同場有社會主義行動的人也罷了攤位, 說的都是聲討整個泛民初選就係維護小圈子選舉假民主雲雲,想不到民主黨的人卻指責對方行動是"非理性同暴力", "香港市民係唔接受","我地投票就得"...雖然社會主義行動的人的行為是有點滋擾性, 但他們的質問並非沒道理, 可是保守泛民污名化別人為非理性這樣的回應似乎已成標準, 對於別人質問的內容, 他們卻一概不理, 那還有什麼可供對質和討論的餘地呢?

4)最後他們還擺票站的helper上枱, 開咪話"依班大學生為左民主站企在o係度成日, 希望大家擁躍投票"....而這句一出, 「巧合地」即時多了人去排隊投票, 於是拿咪的那位民主黨人重覆這句說話...但老實說, 大學生做票站工作人只跟叫人去投票有什麼關係? 這種選舉, 真的讓我看到articulation是無限可能的!!

除了拉票的原因令人反感之外, 我發覺大部分選民都是來支持民主黨所以投票, 至於投的是什麼? 他們卻好像不太清楚, 多少個阿婆阿伯拿著民主黨的選擇傳單來跟我說, "我要投這個", "我要投阿仁"...我還見有個阿叔好開心大說說 "好野呀, 終於有得一人一票特首喇"...一場選舉, 勝出的人應該如何合理地說出自己的勝出的原因呢? 雖然, 以上的說話不是出自一位民主黨議員的口, 但他們的助手卻未免有點混淆視聽, 假借民主之名叫人投票給他們, 真的需要這麼不擇手段嗎?
作為一個民主派的大黨, 竟用一些如此缺乏公民教育的理由去找呼籲市民投票, 實在令人痛心港人的民主之路如何崎嶇。

3萬多票的泛民代表性?


到最後個多小時, 拿著泛民初選傳單的我, 也不好意思叫途人投票, 拉一些什麼也不清楚的人去投票就像欺騙一樣, 因為得票最多的人可以選民之名得到一份代表我們的權力, 這種因三萬多張票(不說選民怎樣投票了)就可以代表全港的泛民支持者的意願的名義來跟

其實, 泛民初選的意義是選出一名代表泛民的特首後選人在選舉論壇上質問定會勝出的建制後選人(豬或狼)兩普選的事--普選行政長官和立法會(廢除功能組別), 可是如數爭取兩普選一事, 在2010年5月16日由社民連及公民黨搞的「五區公投」卻得到50多萬港人投票, 為何保守泛民認同一個只有3萬多人投票的結果, 但卻不參與和杯葛一個遠超他們n次的公投行動? 別告訴我路線不同, 除了為了一黨的私利, 我看不出有什麼不同泛民初選與五區公投爭取的兩普選有什麼分別?

對於未來的特首選舉, 結果不是狼就是豬, 總之是中央欽點的人, 我們只能硬食....現在對於未來的特首選舉, 我只有一個悲觀的看法和一個更悲觀的看法:
1)悲觀地看, 即使只能做個花生友, 我也希望何俊仁先生能在來緊多次的特首論壇有勇氣和有智慧地質問狼/豬在民生民主發展上的問題, 迫使他們交出實質的兩普選承諾...雖然, 民主黨在過去在立法會上曾讚成建港深廣高鐵, 反對最低工資, 支對全民養老金等, 但我希望他們在廣大觀眾面前可以良心發現, 一改常態, 給全港市民上幾科有效的公民教育課。
2)更悲觀的看, 廣大市民真的以為泛民和建制的特首後選人在公平競爭, 更有理由去合理建制派的勝出是民主選舉的結果, 到那個時候, 恐怕大家也會忘記了小圈子選舉的不公義....

Intellectuals & Power: A conversation between Michel Foucault and Gilles Deleuze

This is a transcript of a 1972 conversation between the post-structuralist philosophers Michel Foucault and Gilles Deleuze, which discusses the links between the struggles of women, homosexuals, prisoners etc to class struggle, and also the relationship between theory, practice and power (4,000 words).

This transcript first appeared in English in the book ‘Language, Counter-Memory, Practice: selected essays and interviews by Michel Foucault’ edited by Donald F. Bouchard.

MICHEL FOUCAULT: A Maoist once said to me: "I can easily understand Sartre's purpose in siding with us; I can understand his goals and his involvement in politics; I can partially under- stand your position, since you've always been concerned with the problem of confinement. But Deleuze is an enigma." I was shocked by this statement because your position has always seemed particularly clear to me.

GILLES DELEUZE: Possibly we're in the process of experiencing a new relationship between theory and practice. At one time, practice was considered an application of theory, a consequence; at other times, it bad an opposite sense and it was thought to inspire theory, to be indispensable for the creation of future theoretical forms. In any event, their relationship was understood in terms of a process of totalisation. For us, however, the question is seen in a different light. The relationships between theory and practice are far more partial and fragmentary. on one side, a theory is always local and related to a limited field, and it is applied in another sphere, more or less distant from it. The relationship which holds in the application of a theory is never one of resemblance. Moreover, from the moment a theory moves into its proper domain, it begins to encounter obstacles, walls, and blockages which require its relay by another type of discourse (it is through this other discourse that it eventually passes to a different domain). Practice is a set of relays from one theoretical point to another, and theory is a relay from one practice to another. No theory can develop without eventually encountering a wall, and practice is necessary for piercing this wall. For example, your work began in the theoretical analysis of the context of confinement, specifically with respect to the psychiatric asylum within a capitalist society in the nineteenth century. Then you became aware of the necessity for confined individuals to speak for themselves, to create a relay (it's possible, on the contrary, that your function was already that of a relay in relation to them); and this group is found in prisons -- these individuals are imprisoned. It was on this basis that You organised the information group for prisons (G.I.P.)(1), the object being to create conditions that permit the prisoners themselves to speak. It would be absolutely false to say, as the Maoist implied, that in moving to this practice you were applying your theories. This was not an application; nor was it a project for initiating reforms or an enquiry in the traditional sense. The emphasis was altogether different: a system of relays within a larger sphere, within a multiplicity of parts that are both theoretical and practical. A theorising intellectual, for us, is no longer a subject, a representing or representative consciousness. Those who act and struggle are no longer represented, either by a group or a union that appropriates the right to stand as their conscience. Who speaks and acts? It is always a multiplicity, even within the person who speaks and acts. All of us are "groupuscules."(2) Representation no longer exists; there's only action-theoretical action and practical action which serve as relays and form networks.

FOUCAULT: It seems to me that the political involvement of the intellectual was traditionally the product of two different aspects of his activity: his position as an intellectual in bourgeois society, in the system of capitalist production and within the ideology it produces or imposes (his exploitation, poverty, rejection, persecution, the accusations of subversive activity, immorality, etc); and his proper discourse to the extent that it revealed a particular truth, that it disclosed political relationships where they were unsuspected. These two forms of politicisation did not exclude each other, but, being of a different order, neither did they coincide. Some were classed as "outcasts" and others as "socialists." During moments of violent reaction on the part of the authorities, these two positions were readily fused: after 1848, after the Commune, after 1940. The intellectual was rejected and persecuted at the precise moment when the facts became incontrovertible, when it was forbidden to say that the emperor had no clothes. The intellectual spoke the truth to those who had yet to see it, in the name of those who were forbidden to speak the truth: he was conscience, consciousness, and eloquence. In the most recent upheaval (3) the intellectual discovered that the masses no longer need him to gain knowledge: they know perfectly well, without illusion; they know far better than he and they are certainly capable of expressing themselves. But there exists a system of power which blocks, prohibits, and invalidates this discourse and this knowledge, a power not only found in the manifest authority of censorship, but one that profoundly and subtly penetrates an entire societal network. Intellectuals are themselves agents of this system of power-the idea of their responsibility for "consciousness" and discourse forms part of the system. The intellectual's role is no longer to place himself "somewhat ahead and to the side" in order to express the stifled truth of the collectivity; rather, it is to struggle against the forms of power that transform him into its object and instrument in the sphere of "knowledge," "truth," "consciousness," and "discourse. "(4)

In this sense theory does not express, translate, or serve to apply practice: it is practice. But it is local and regional, as you said, and not totalising. This is a struggle against power, a struggle aimed at revealing and undermining power where it is most invisible and insidious. It is not to "awaken consciousness" that we struggle (the masses have been aware for some time that consciousness is a form of knowledge; and consciousness as the basis of subjectivity is a prerogative of the bourgeoisie), but to sap power, to take power; it is an activity conducted alongside those who struggle for power, and not their illumination from a safe distance. A "theory " is the regional system of this struggle.

DELEUZE: Precisely. A theory is exactly like a box of tools. It has nothing to do with the signifier. It must be useful. It must function. And not for itself. If no one uses it, beginning with the theoretician himself (who then ceases to be a theoretician), then the theory is worthless or the moment is inappropriate. We don't revise a theory, but construct new ones; we have no choice but to make others. It is strange that it was Proust, an author thought to be a pure intellectual, who said it so clearly: treat my book as a pair of glasses directed to the outside; if they don't suit you, find another pair; I leave it to you to find your own instrument, which is necessarily an investment for combat. A theory does not totalise; it is an instrument for multiplication and it also multiplies itself. It is in the nature of power to totalise and it is your position. and one I fully agree with, that theory is by nature opposed to power. As soon as a theory is enmeshed in a particular point, we realise that it will never possess the slightest practical importance unless it can erupt in a totally different area. This is why the notion of reform is so stupid and hypocritical. Either reforms are designed by people who claim to be representative, who make a profession of speaking for others, and they lead to a division of power, to a distribution of this new power which is consequently increased by a double repression; or they arise from the complaints and demands of those concerned. This latter instance is no longer a reform but revolutionary action that questions (expressing the full force of its partiality) the totality of power and the hierarchy that maintains it. This is surely evident in prisons: the smallest and most insignificant of the prisoners' demands can puncture Pleven's pseudoreform (5). If the protests of children were heard in kindergarten, if their questions were attended to, it would be enough to explode the entire educational system. There is no denying that our social system is totally without tolerance; this accounts for its extreme fragility in all its aspects and also its need for a global form of repression. In my opinion, you were the first-in your books and in the practical sphere-to teach us something absolutely fundamental: the indignity of speaking for others. We ridiculed representation and said it was finished, but we failed to draw the consequences of this "theoretical" conversion-to appreciate the theoretical fact that only those directly concerned can speak in a practical way on their own behalf.

FOUCAULT: And when the prisoners began to speak, they possessed an individual theory of prisons, the penal system, and justice. It is this form of discourse which ultimately matters, a discourse against power, the counter-discourse of prisoners and those we call delinquents-and not a theory about delinquency. The problem of prisons is local and marginal: not more than 100,000 people pass through prisons in a year. In France at present, between 300,000 and 400,000 have been to prison. Yet this marginal problem seems to disturb everyone. I was surprised that so many who had not been to prison could become interested in its problems, surprised that all those who bad never heard the discourse of inmates could so easily understand them. How do we explain this? Isn't it because, in a general way, the penal system is the form in which power is most obviously seen as power? To place someone in prison, to confine him to deprive him of food and heat, to prevent him from leaving, making love, etc.-this is certainly the most frenzied manifestation of power imaginable. The other day I was speaking to a woman who bad been in prison and she was saying: "Imagine, that at the age of forty, I was punished one day with a meal of dry bread." What is striking about this story is not the childishness of the exercise of power but the cynicism with which power is exercised as power, in the most archaic, puerile, infantile manner. As children we learn what it means to be reduced to bread and water. Prison is the only place where power is manifested in its naked state, in its most excessive form, and where it is justified as moral force. "I am within my rights to punish you because you know that it is criminal to rob and kill . . . ... What is fascinating about prisons is that, for once, power doesn't hide or mask itself; it reveals itself as tyranny pursued into the tiniest details; it is cynical and at the same time pure and entirely "justified," because its practice can be totally formulated within the framework of morality. Its brutal tyranny consequently appears as the serene domination of Good over Evil, of order over disorder.

DELEUZE: Yes, and the reverse is equally true. Not only are prisoners treated like children, but children are treated like prisoners. Children are submitted to an infantilisation which is alien to them. On this basis, it is undeniable that schools resemble prisons and that factories are its closest approximation. Look at the entrance to a Renault plant, or anywhere else for that matter: three tickets to get into the washroom during the day. You found an eighteenth-century text by Jeremy Bentham proposing prison reforms; in the name of this exalted reform, be establishes a circular system where the renovated prison serves as a model and where the individual passes imperceptibly from school to the factory, from the factory to prison and vice versa. This is the essence of the reforming impulse, of reformed representation. On the contrary, when people begin to speak and act on their own behalf, they do not oppose their representation (even as its reversal) to another; they do not oppose a new representativity to the false representativity of power. For example, I remember your saying that there is no popular justice against justice; the reckoning takes place at another level.

FOUCAULT: I think that it is not simply the idea of better and more equitable forms of justice that underlies the people's hatred of the judicial system, of judges, courts, and prisons, but-aside from this and before anything else-the singular perception that power is always exercised at the expense of the people. The anti-judicial struggle is a struggle against power and I don't think that it is a struggle against injustice, against the injustice of the judicial system, or a struggle for improving the efficiency of its institutions. It is particularly striking that in outbreaks of rioting and revolt or in seditious movements the judicial system has been as compelling a target as the financial structure, the army, and other forms of power. My hypothesis -but it is merely an hypothesis- is that popular courts, such as those found in the Revolution, were a means for the lower middle class, who were allied with the masses, to salvage and recapture the initiative in the struggle against the judicial system. To achieve this, they proposed a court system based on the possibility of equitable justice, where a judge might render a just verdict. The identifiable form of the court of law belongs to the bourgeois ideology of justice.

DELEUZE: On the basis of our actual situation, power emphatically develops a total or global vision. That is, all the current forms of repression (the racist repression of immigrant workers, repression in the factories, in the educational system, and the general repression of youth) are easily totalised from the point of view of power. We should not only seek the unity of these forms in the reaction to May '68, but more appropriately, in the concerted preparation and organisation of the near future, French capitalism now relies on a "margin" of unemployment and has abandoned the liberal and paternal mask that promised full employment. In this perspective, we begin to see the unity of the forms of repression: restrictions on immigration, once it is acknowledged that the most difficult and thankless jobs go to immigrant workers-repression in the factories, because the French must reacquire the "taste" for increasingly harder work; the struggle against youth and the repression of the educational system, because police repression is more active when there is less need for young people in the work force. A wide range of professionals (teachers, psychiatrists, educators of all kinds, etc.) will be called upon to exercise functions that have traditionally belonged to the police. This is something you predicted long ago, and it was thought impossible at the time: the reinforcement of all the structures of confinement. Against this global policy of power, we initiate localised counter-responses, skirmishes, active and occasionally preventive defences. We have no need to totalise that which is invariably totalised on the side of power; if we were to move in this direction, it would mean restoring the representative forms of centralism and a hierarchical structure. We must set up lateral affiliations and an entire system of net- works and popular bases; and this is especially difficult. In any case, we no longer define reality as a continuation of politics in the traditional sense of competition and the distribution of power, through the so-called representative agencies of the Communist Party or the General Workers Union(6). Reality is what actually happens in factories, in schools, in barracks, in prisons, in police stations. And this action carries a type of information which is altogether different from that found in newspapers (this explains the kind of information carried by the Agence de Press Liberation (7).'

FOUCAULT: Isn't this difficulty of finding adequate forms of struggle a result of the fact that we continue to ignore the problem of power? After all, we had to wait until the nineteenth century before we began to understand the nature of exploitation, and to this day, we have yet to fully comprehend the nature of power. It may be that Marx and Freud cannot satisfy our desire for understanding this enigmatic thing which we call power, which is at once visible and invisible, present and hidden, ubiquitous. Theories of government and the traditional analyses of their mechanisms certainly don't exhaust the field where power is exercised and where it functions. The question of power re- mains a total enigma. Who exercises power? And in what sphere? We now know with reasonable certainty who exploits others, who receives the profits, which people are involved, and we know how these funds are reinvested. But as for power . . . We know that it is not in the hands of those who govern. But, of course, the idea of the "ruling class" has never received an adequate formulation, and neither have other terms, such as "to dominate ... .. to rule ... .. to govern," etc. These notions are far too fluid and require analysis. We should also investigate the limits imposed on the exercise of power-the relays through which it operates and the extent of its influence on the often insignificant aspects of the hierarchy and the forms of control, surveillance, prohibition, and constraint. Everywhere that power exists, it is being exercised. No one, strictly speaking, has an official right to power; and yet it is always excited in a particular direction, with some people on one side and some on the other. It is often difficult to say who holds power in a precise sense, but it is easy to see who lacks power. If the reading of your books (from Nietzsche to what I anticipate in Capitalism and Schisophrenia (8) has been essential for me, it is because they seem to go very far in exploring this problem: under the ancient theme of meaning, of the signifier and the signified, etc., you have developed the question of power, of the inequality of powers and their struggles. Each struggle develops around a particular source of power (any of the countless, tiny sources- a small-time boss, the manager of "H.L.M.,"' a prison warden, a judge, a union representative, the editor-in-chief of a newspaper). And if pointing out these sources-denouncing and speaking out-is to be a part of the struggle, it is not because they were previously unknown. Rather, it is because to speak on this subject, to force the institutionalised networks of information to listen, to produce names, to point the finger of accusation, to find targets, is the first step in the reversal of power and the initiation of new struggles against existing forms of power. if the discourse of inmates or prison doctors constitutes a form of struggle, it is because they confiscate, at least temporarily, the power to speak on prison conditions-at present, the exclusive property of prison administrators and their cronies in reform groups. The discourse of struggle is not opposed to the unconscious, but to the secretive. It may not seem like much; but what if it turned out to be more than we expected? A whole series of misunderstandings relates to things that are "bidden," "repressed," and "unsaid"; and they permit the cheap "psychoanalysis" of the proper objects of struggle. It is perhaps more difficult to unearth a secret than the unconscious. The two themes frequently encountered in the recent past, that "writing gives rise to repressed elements" and that "writing is necessarily a subversive activity," seem to betray a number of operations that deserve to be severely denounced.

DELEUZE: With respect to the problem you posed: it is clear who exploits, who profits, and who governs, but power nevertheless remains something more diffuse. I would venture the following hypothesis: the thrust of Marxism was to define the problem essentially in terms of interests (power is held by a ruling class defined by its interests). The question immediately arises: how is it that people whose interests are not being served can strictly support the existing power structure by demanding a piece of the action? Perhaps, this is because in terms of investments, whether economic or unconscious, interest is not the final answer; there are investments of desire that function in a more profound and diffuse manner than our interests dictate. But of course, we never desire against our interests, because interest always follows and finds itself where desire has placed it. We cannot shut out the scream of Reich: the masses were not deceived; at a particular time, they actually wanted a fascist regime! There are investments of desire that mould and distribute power, that make it the property of the policeman as much as of the prime minister; in this context, there is no qualitative difference between the power wielded by the policeman and the prime minister. The nature of these investments of desire in a social group explains why political parties or unions, which might have or should have revolutionary investments in the name of class interests, are so often reform oriented or absolutely reactionary on the level of desire.

FOUCAULT: As you say, the relationship between desire, power, and interest are more complex than we ordinarily think, and it is not necessarily those who exercise power who have an interest in its execution; nor is it always possible for those with vested interests to exercise power. Moreover, the desire for power establishes a singular relationship between power and interest. It may happen that the masses, during fascist periods, desire that certain people assume power, people with whom they are unable to identify since these individuals exert power against the masses and at their expense, to the extreme of their death, their sacrifice, their massacre. Nevertheless, they desire this particular power; they want it to be exercised. This play of desire, power, and interest has received very little attention. It was a long time before we began to understand exploitation; and desire has had and continues to have a long history. It is possible that the struggles now taking place and the local, regional, and discontinuous theories that derive from these struggles and that are indissociable from them stand at the threshold of our discovery of the manner in which power is exercised.

DELEUZE: In this context, I must return to the question: the present revolutionary movement has created multiple centres, and not as the result of weakness or insufficiency, since a certain kind of totalisation pertains to power and the forces of reaction. (Vietnam, for instance, is an impressive example of localised counter-tactics). But bow are we to define the networks, the transversal links between these active and discontinuous points, from one country to another or within a single country?

FOUCAULT: The question of geographical discontinuity which you raise might mean the following: as soon as we struggle against exploitation, the proletariat not only leads the struggle but also defines its targets, its methods, and the places and instruments for confrontation; and to ally oneself with the proletariat is to accept its positions, its ideology, and its motives for combat. This means total identification. But if the fight is directed against power, then all those on whom power is exercised to their detriment, all who find it intolerable, can begin the struggle on their own terrain and on the basis of their proper activity (or passivity). In engaging in a struggle that concerns their own interests, whose objectives they clearly understand and whose methods only they can determine, they enter into a revolutionary process. They naturally enter as allies of the proletariat, because power is exercised the way it is in order to maintain capitalist exploitation. They genuinely serve the cause of the proletariat by fighting in those places they find themselves oppressed. Women, prisoners, conscripted soldiers, hospital patients, and homosexuals have now begun a specific struggle against the particularised power, the constraints and controls, that are exerted over them. Such struggles are actually involved in the revolutionary movement to the degree that they are radical, uncompromising and nonreformist, and refuse any attempt at arriving at a new disposition of the same power with, at best, a change of masters. And these movements are linked to the revolutionary movement of the proletariat to the extent that they fight against the controls and constraints which serve the same system of power.

In this sense, the overall picture presented by the struggle is certainly not that of the totalisation you mentioned earlier, this theoretical totalisation under the guise of "truth." The generality of the struggle specifically derives from the system of power itself, from all the forms in which power is exercised and applied.

DELEUZE: And which we are unable to approach in any of its applications without revealing its diffuse character, so that we are necessarily led--on the basis of the most insignificant demand to the desire to blow it up completely. Every revolutionary attack or defence, however partial, is linked in this way to the workers' struggle.

This discussion was recorded March 4, 1972; and it was published in a special issue of L'Arc (No. 49, pp. 3-10), dedicated to Gilles Deleuze. It is reprinted here by permission of L'Arc. (All footnotes supplied by the editor.)

1. "Groupe d'information de prisons": Foucault's two most recent publications (I, Pierre Riviere and Surveiller et Punir) result from this association.
2. Cf. above "Theatrum Philosophicum," p. 185 in Language, Counter-Memory, Practice.
3. May 1968, popularly known as the "events of May."
4. See L'Ordre du discours, pp. 47-53 in Language, Counter-Memory, Practice.
5, Rene Pleven was the prime minister of France in the early 1950.
6. "Confederation Generale de Travailleurs", General Confederation of Workers.
7. Liberation News Agency.
8. Nietzsche et la Philosophie (Paris: P.U.F., 1962) and Capitalisme et schisophrenie, vol. 1, 'Anti-Oedipus, in collaboration with F. Guattari (Paris: Editions de Minuit, 1912). Both books are now available in English.
9. Habitations à Loyer Modéré - moderate rental housing."

this transcript was retrieved from 

http://libcom.org/library/intellectuals-power-a-conversation-between-michel-foucault-and-gilles-deleuze

john's comment on drp

終於收到了阿john對我份drp的第一次comments,
等緊doc開, 我已經十分緊張, 那種緊張就像放gpa一樣
但gpa這個指數不會令你學懂什麼, 它只能令你一刻興奮或失落

看了comments
雖然還有些地方欠表達清淅, 但他的comments的確給我很大的鼓舞, 
那種振奮是來自證明了自己大膽的分析是合理的
老實說, 現在追求一個recognition, 對我來說很重要, 因為我害怕, 縱使看似多有自信, 但那獨行獨斷的性格卻令我常質疑自己是否被困於一個錯或別人不能理解的境地...

更甚者, 他的認同對我很重要, 因為他是一個我欣賞的學者
星期4和他吃lunch, 應該告訴他我下來的研究racism的計劃, 聽聽他的意見吧

城市, 確是一個很有趣的地方
有趣在, 它滿是陌生人, 也有趣在, 那些陌生人又不是那麼陌生

在城市自殺, 更是一個非常有趣的科題

pain in racism

這兩個星期,
由種族衝突和排外、種族大屠殺的無力感和困局所生產的鬱悶感覺一直揮之不去
這種種族衝突不是我們在香港看到的歧視和經濟上的欺壓, 而是會用棍同槍活生生殺人那種

有幾個問題bare in mind:
1.為何會爆發種族間衝突?
在明明之前還是相識的隔離鄰舍, 大家也是
2.怎樣解決因種族間的衝突?
3. 種族又是什麼一回事?
今日上cus214時,
john播了一部名叫The Ghost of Rwanda
-Hutu和Tusi的genocide
-不同立場的表態
-visitor的傷痛

john tears, then..we tears
-he said:  it is visible but no object for us
-to me: racism is horror, since the violence is s disease which make u kill ur neighbor
-what is humanity the modern men said?
-we are not only to know "otherness", but we should do something for other
-arise my interest in race

一個意想不到的驗身得著

唔...

我個世界的運行的速度又放慢了...又沉點下來了...

今天OMIP打來約我check去東海的資料, 才急切之下去驗身

原本輕輕鬆鬆的去驗身, 可以離開時卻無比的沉重

那個醫生說我的尿液樣本有血, 意味我可能有腎病, 再加上我說其實我弟小時候也有過腎病

最後他沒有幫我填好份health report, 給了我轉介信去公立醫院

那刻腦子裡只有一件事, 就是不能讓媽知道, 不免她老是擔心我

而碧, 她是第一個可以跟她說的, 當然, 我也不想她太擔心, 她問我有否不開心, 我沒有答她, 但其實我很害怕, 我跟她說如果我有事, 我會離開她...她是一個多好的女孩? 她就是知到你有半點不性樂也會走在默默地陪著你的人, 還會逗你笑

由富泰走回編委會室的路上, 忽然又覺得, 身上的衣著, 人皮的面具, 改變社會的熱血, 都好像離我很遠...

雖然很多東西在腦子裡, 但思緒變得清晰了

要交的essay, 現在還要寫嗎? 

如果真的有事, 我應否繼續上學? 

我應該立即去做些什麼?

聽說, 得了絕症的人會專心去完成一些事, 那我那些事是什麼?

是否應該去打工還我差不多十萬的學債? 

定還是用文字留下一些驚世偉論? 

聽說人面對死亡是會有無比的勇氣和智慧, 希望我也是

想起了一條我近幾年想問朋友的老土問題:「人生的意義」, 

確實, 如果這刻回頭看, 找不到我人生的意義是為了什麼

回到會室, 看到弟跟他的同學在認為溫習, 我很高興,

一來是對考試有幫助, 二來是會加深他與朋友的關係

我弟, 常是我觀察的對象, 也是我將goodness投射的對象, 他很可愛很乖很懂性而且有點怕羞

在打這篇東西時, 我也在想, 我上述的想法和衝動, 會否在知道化驗後得知沒大礙而消失

如果是這樣, 我這個人的人生應該很可卑, 健步如飛時卻活如木頭, 在知道有事後又老是擔心..

無論明天去化驗的結果是怎樣, 都不要做回昨天以前的自己, 好嗎?