I
woke up this morning around three. Played my guitar (new song) for a
while; then picked up my bedside copy of Foucault's Archeology of Knowledge.
This is about the third time I've tried to read it. I finally have got
his rhythm and actually like his writing—and his thinking, the origin of deconstruction: the
absence beneath words, really, the indeterminacy of words—I wrote undeconstructively about this in one of my early articles, "The Yin and Yang of
Genres" (cute title, huh?).
Went back to sleep thinking about the indeterminacy of life.
Two of his great lines: the occulation of discourse (I worked on that for about a half hour.)
"I am trying to define the blank space from which I speak." (I got that right away.)
Went back to sleep thinking about the indeterminacy of life.
Two of his great lines: the occulation of discourse (I worked on that for about a half hour.)
"I am trying to define the blank space from which I speak." (I got that right away.)
it does not seem unreasonable to suggest that the entire way out is making the precise approaches promising to develop the issues in every single manner. To make the way out smoother this course of action in exploring the productive issues
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