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shabbat shalom.

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the wonderful thing about consciousness-raising is that, because one goes 'around the circle,' one discovers that the strangest people know the 'right' answer.
judy chicago, through the flower: my struggle as a woman artist, 1975
jane gallop, feminist accused of sexual harassment, 1997
notes from free space: a perspective on the small group in womenâs liberation, pamela allen, 1970Â
âthis was very much what early wl [womenâs liberation] was about. women getting excited about thinking.â

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packing up for the summer and found these quarantine quotes from alice, summer 2020, age 4Â
âi like that my voice doesnât sound smart.â
âall you need to do is make art that inspires yourself and you will become smart like me. iâm not trying to be mean.â
âpeople who make great art are people who are smart.â
âyou canât be mean to people who are working really hard.â
âi just want to have friends these days. i want someone to play with. you and dad are always working.â (she didnât play with another child for 6 months last year)Â
âwhatâs a jerk?â
âiâm pretending to do important work like you. iâm pretending to do french like mom.â
âmom, i can translate animals and robots.â âhow do you know how to do that?â âitâs just how i live.âÂ
âi just knew that because Iâm a really smart kid, just like taylor swift knew stuff when she was younger.â
âmy art is really important. itâs all about homes and making stuff for me to play in.â
âiâm going to do a little art maybe? because you know itâs my job.â
âiâm not a serious artiste. iâm just a person who loves art.â
âinteresting people talk a lot.â
âiâm going to be an artist. and Iâm going to be a mom.â her drawing teacher replied, âyep, thatâs what i always said.â
âi think i would swim in a pool of glitter and if it was pink i think my mom would like it.â
âwe sang a song today about how you need to love yourself. i do love myself for two reasons: iâm interesting and i have good hair. and iâm happy because iâm an artist.â
my art is really important. itâs all about homes and making stuff for me to play in.
alice during quarantine last summer
alice understands the humanities (last summer, age 4)
kj: no, i am a doctor. but i'm a doctor of philosophy.
a: what's that?
kj: it's a doctor of thinking. i think about what makes a happy life.
a: so it's still about making your body okay.
quotations constitute the endlessly reusable material of a changing construction that can always be put together and taken apart...the internal order of such a discourse has more to do with rhythm than with linear argument, and the charisma of a name-of-the-concept than with its explication. [french theory is] a new academic ethosâwhose major features are its ludic approach, its logic of the unjustifiable, an imperative of originality, and a productive heterodoxy, but also a strategic conformity to certain communitarian allegiances.
françois cusset, french theory: how foucault, derrida, deleuze, & co. transformed the intellectual life of the united states, 92-93
âbeyond the profitability offered by theory, and the politically defiant stances of minority students, the language and arguments of the theoretical approach lend themselves much more readily than traditional methods to the development of insidersâ codes and playful reappropriation. they are better suited to the empathetic and lighthearted qualities of student conversation and its free use of tactics such as name-dropping and spontaneous association of incompatible concepts, a heady collage of notions in which thinking up the most incongruous notions is a mark of intellectual ease and brilliance. the referential chain was broken, or seriously compromised; it was no longer necessary to present the credentials of works one has mastered or canons one has studied to make an attempt at theorizing oneself...paralogical or ironic reasoning prevails over the slower and less easily mastered tactics of argumentative rationality. what is unjustifiable becomes a justification in itself: quotations taken out of context or misplaced arguments are legitimate as such, in opposition to grand logical constructions, seen as massive, musty, and unfashionable. for those too young to master all the implications of a text, theory provided a great windfall.â (219)Â
âthe theoretical posture: wily, mobile, corrosive, an enemy of first truths and of all dualisms.â (106)
âconceptual figures and theoretical allegories, encountered during bookish wanderings, become markers, fetishes, or refrains of a countercreed. even if they do not always fully master these elements of theory, they appropriate them as a form of opposition to the prior world of the family, and to the external world of professionalization, or to fill a melancholic void. this process offers students a sense of initiation, which is strengthened by the rite-of-passage aspect of these few years, during which one can construct oneself on neutral ground. thus, as the term bildungsroman appeared in the nineteenth century in germany, referring to a literature of initiation, avidly consumed by adolescents, we might venture to coin the term bildungstheorie for this new theoretical presence, intimately embraced by many students for its familiar otherness, so different from other required readings. in this way, theoretical texts came to guide the student through the confusion of tangled discourseâin the various spheres we might call social, intimate, domestic, cultural, and professorialâinto which student life propels young people.â (224)Â
âlooking beyond the student population, this subjective and, it might be said, atmospheric connection to the works of french theory (in spite of the difficulty of these texts) becomes a general tactic for all those who, without a published work to their name, and without a recognized discourse to contextualize theoretical references, never fully mastered them. these groups might typically include teachers engaged in research, assistant professors, young students feeling uncertain after graduation but still hooked on nomadology or french feminism, and all the other âdominatedâ members of the strict hierarchy of knowledge and publications. their link to theory is not grounded in the mediating institution, or in a career project, but rather in a fear or sense of mystery, a prerational aura that they attempt to disperse by short-circuiting the overall logic, selecting a fragment from the corpus to employ it in a more familiar context. the use they make of theory in these cases is thus all the more unrestrained precisely because of its fragmented nature. in contrast with the official, diploma-bearing experts of french theory, the objective for these readers is to carve out for themselves a bio/bibliography, a unique connection between text and real life, by releasing a theoretical enigma from its paper prison and trying out its implications in every aspect of existence...in certain ways, theory creates a narrative from which to glean uses and practices that help tame a readerâs world.â (226)
an aptitude for inhabiting this world without objectifying it, to page through it without mechanically assigning it a meaning, to subjectivize oneself in it but also to desubjectivize oneself in it. french theory, in bypassing the accepted discourse of argument, and constantly reaffirming the motifs of dispersion and the multiple subject, encourages its readers âwithout published worksâ to lose themselves, to reach a position of quasi fusion with the text.
françois cusset, french theory: how foucault, derrida, deleuze, & co. transformed the intellectual life of the united states, 228

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alice says she has created âgirl placeâ and that it includes âeverything girls like: nail polish, a tzedakah box, and something you can draw on so you can figure out your problems.â
i like that girl place is framed by in a different voice and hystories. also reading the romance; the dialectic of sex; undoing gender; and doinâ it in public. the feminist memoir project; this sex which is not one; simians, cyborgs, and women; the archival turn in feminism. men, women, and chain saws. yesterday alice saw a girl peeing in the park and started screaming like it was the murderer who had just appeared from behind the tree. then she covered her eyes, kept screaming, and pretended to stumble away. âalice, give her some privacy,â i said a few times, loud enough so that the mom wouldnât be mad at me. but the final girl scream is her new moveâshe does it all the timeâand it is extremely funny.Â
the other day she asked if any of my feminist books were written by a person with her name. we were sitting right next to alice echolsâ daring to be bad. my alice looked concerned; i explained that it was the kind of bad where you donât do what boys tell you to do because they are wrong. earlier this week, she was crying after school because the boys had wrecked the house that she had been building with her girlfriends. âboys are puh,â she said to me and pretended to spit, which is her other new move, and new saying. it doesnât feel great to deride five-year-olds, even when they are boys, even when theyâre being mean, but i remember what itâs like to be a five-year-old girl with a burgeoning feminist consciousness, and the teenage posturing she has learned from watching âmy little pony: equestria girlsâ is cute. i laughed.
in the land of the transparent sign and of transitive science, a small crew of desperate men and women of letters thus dared to indulge very textually, and very obstinately, in the shadowy pleasures of opacity.
françois cusset, french theory: how foucault, derrida, deleuze, & co. transformed the intellectual life of the united statesÂ
not long before he died in 1969, theodor adorno told an interviewer: 'i established a theoretical model of thought. how could i have suspected that people would want to implement it with molotov cocktails?'
the first sentence of grand hotel abyss: the lives of the frankfurt school by stuart jeffriesÂ
âfrom its inception in 1923, the marxist research institute that became known as the frankfurt school was aloof from party politics and sceptical about political struggle. its leading members--theodor adorno, max horkheimer, herbert marcuse, erich fromm, friedrich pollock, franz neumann, and jurgen habermas--were virtuosic at critiquing the viciousness of fascism, and capitalismâs socially eviscerating, spiritually crushing impact on western societies, but not so good at changing what they critiqued.â Â
âin his 1969 paper âmarginalia to theory and praxis,â adorno noted that a student had his room destroyed because he preferred to work rather than take part in student protests. someone had even scrawled on his wall: âwhoever occupies himself with theory without acting practically is a traitor to socialism.ââÂ
âthat paradox, the oppressive call for liberating action, made adorno and many others of the frankfurt school queasy. jurgen habermas called it âleft facism,â and adorno, his former teacher, saw in it the rise of a grisly new mutation of the authoritarian personality that had thrived in nazi germany and stalinist russia.â Â
âwhat is striking about adornoâs critical thinking in 1969 is that he took the authoritarian personality type that thrived under hitler and its attendant spirit of conformism to be alive and well in the new left and the student movement. both postured as anti-authoritarian but replicated the repressive structures they ostensibly sought to overthrow. âthose who protest most vehemently,â wrote adorno, âare similar to authoritarian personalities in their aversion to introspection.ââ
ânow was not the time for the easy posturing of action, but for the hard work of thinking...theory was...principled withdrawal into a fortress of thought, a citadel from which, periodically, radical jeremiads were issued. for adorno, thinking rather than sit-ins and barricades was the true radical act. âwhoever thinks, offers resistance; it is more comfortable to swim with the current, even when one declares oneself to be against the current.ââ
âcertainly, the frankfurt school over which adorno prevailed as the leading intellectual force venerated theory as offering the only space in which the prevailing order could be indicted, if not overthrown. theory retained--unlike everything tainted by exposure to the real, fallen world--its lustre and its untameable spirit...this was where the frankfurt school felt most comfortable--instead of getting caught up in delusive revolutionary euphoria, they preferred to retreat into a non-repressive intellectual space where they could think freely.â
âif critical theory means anything, it means the kind of radical re-thinking that challenges what it considers to be the official versions of history and intellectual endeavour.âÂ
on the death of one of my favorite rabbis
(notes from my drafts on carol gilligan and rabbi jonathan sacks from early in the pandemic:)
i had to fill out a form for a neighborhood mom group i am a part of, but i think i missed the deadline: i donât know how to answer the question about what i do after i put alice to bed every night because what I do is sit down on the couch and watch whatever program is on the jewish broadcasting service. marc turns it on before he goes to the kitchen to make dinner.Â
a few weeks ago, i watched a video of feminist psychologist and girl culture heroine carol gilligan; rabbi jonathan sacks; and choreographer, dancer, lgbtq activist, and author marcia pally speak on a panel that took place at aliceâs school. sacks claimed that jews are among the worldâs best speakers and the world's worst listeners. i think this is true. in biblical hebrew, he said, there is no word for âto obeyâ; the word the bible uses is shema: âto listen, to hear, to understand, to internalize, and to respond in deed...the key and fundamental mitzvah in judaism is to listen.â
gilligan had just been to israel; talked about freud and hysteria; referenced her own years in hebrew school; and touted âradical listeningâ in which you are willing to be truly changed by the encounter. she also said that she thinks the idea that eve is created to be a helpmeet to adam is a mistranslation of the hebrew and that eve was actually created to be helpful through a kind of opposition. sacks didnât seem so sure about this interpretation, but gilliganâs work is dedicated to girls and women speaking their moral truth to men, and she didnât seem to care.Â
itâs hard to know what to say about dandi mengâs incredible, generous piece on my work at Jacket2. iâm not that good at whatâs pretty; i can only say how it feels. itâs the only thing iâve ever been good at. iâve read her essay now, three times over and itâs still a heavy thrill. not nostalgia, but the instant recall of deep sense memory and something else, whatâs new for me these daysâan immense gratitude in recollection. Of when i lived here on tumblr, now almost a decade ago. the parts of me that shifted and the parts that remain frigid in the archive, kept awkwardly on ice.Â
what dandiâs piece feels like: skin smear on my phone screen. in other words, what doesnât get captured in the screenshotâ that anticipatory feeling when your thumb hits send and you float your content past the digital boundary into the ether. suspended space of not knowing, when and how, and if it will glance past another person. maybe not. but then sometimes, the screenshot will return to confront you, emerging from deep within the scroll. i canât quite believe it did. it feels really special.Â
i havenât thought about Hunting Season in a long time, I havenât thought about performing in a long time. i still hold all the movements in my body, neat tic of my wrist, teary vocal whine, pristine choreography of manufactured blood, but theyâre drier now, desiccated. less from misuse than from no longer being able to push myself to the emotional limit where i can spill with my whole body, thread the edge of that gush. i miss it, the freedom of lapsing. the unclarity of it. itâs funny, when i stopped, i was so tired of the fritz.Â
i used to compare my performances to throwing trash in the air, repetitive, fickle facsimiles of myself. dandi talks about this, shedding data, she says, and the uncontrollable minutiae of petty affect. sheâs right. maybe what was important was that i was present in the only way i could be, unprocessed, undead so i could be witnessed. i donât know, i do it over and over again, make things specifically to court the complexity of other people looking, and no matter how it happens, no matter how i rig the machine, it still feels insane. in the end, a lot of people do look, but it doesnât happen in a real way very often, like how it happened in her piece; being perceived. Â
i loved tumblr because it was as estranged as it was intimate, as democratizing as much as it was a space to admire, the glossy cool girls i put on a pedestal; @karaj, @whateverjeanneâ. tumblr was this aching, immutable surface within which, upon which i could endlessly project a series of emotions. relieved and fatigued, i never had to try to understand, and for no reason other than i didnât want to. confession and its lie; an eternity of unmaking and reconciling and revising. others and myself; memory and affect too big to hold, it had to go somewhere, why not here. why not like this. i absorbed so much material and reproduced, repurposed it. thin ephemera, but it was a feint. at its interior, there was still work, a labor of living, a labor of myself, not veneered, but intractable, all twined up with painstakingly curated style. i did not want to admit this for a very long time.Â
dandiâs piece too, although i cannot speak for her, is maybe is a feint, in that it is comprised of analysis and screenshots and objects, of which my work is one. but it is just so fullâon its own terms, and within its own context. so flush with the kind of unique thinking that can come only from writing critical theory by living it, and from choosing to experience oneself as an unmediated part of that critical theory. a mutable, organic project. iâm so hungry to hear more. i feel undeserving. so lucky and honored to have snuck in.Â
typing into tumblr, like i never left. time is a shell sometimes. hard candy. thank you dandi, for breaking it in your hands. i canât resist; i crush. <3
âi donât know, i do it over and over again, make things specifically to court the complexity of other people looking, and no matter how it happens, no matter how i rig the machine, it still feels insaneâ and âtyping into tumblr, like i never left.â

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on our walk home, alice said she had told her teacher that she felt sad her best friend wasnât in school today and asked, âcan you help me?â and i thought it was so profound that after six months away from school, and less than two weeks back, in this new version of school in which she wears a mask for six hours a day and walks through the hallway where adrienne rich once signed my copy of the dream of a common language and up six flights of stairs without me because i am no longer allowed in the building, she had the ability to tune into her own feelings, the fortitude to ask for help, and the trust that she would get it. she turned five yesterday.Â
âbut what are the conditions that allow one to dream, vision, and imagine the world as it should be? who does and doesnât get access to rest and care as a basic human right?â