On the Metonymy of the Psychoanalyst and the Carmen Figuratum.

And they have crafted with bare hands and tools, mumbling and whispering within the shades provided by the roof and the Hellenic colons of their temples, a direction to deal with life that was death itself, thinking that, that this is what has been gifted to us by the conception of the dimension of the Unconscious and of the marvelous Death Drive- and they have as their motto: Be thou faithful unto Death and I will give you a crown of life- such a proclivity about a cause of death to bring forth a supposed life proscribes to fathom the vital rumbling exegesis that the Kireji words in the Japanese discourse can be transmitted and can hominify their mist as punctuation marks: oh, but this is closer to Lunguage, the Πνοή του Λογού, claimed someone who, until this very moment everyone suspected that he was asleep.

Themselves should have been vomited those who seek to vomit, those who have been nominated as analysts by the demands of their analysands -by a desire that multiplies the fishes to feed more than five thousands- but instead they urge for further analysis to satisfy the cloning of themselves, whilst most of their sons and daughters cannot even set themselves as points of orientation unless within what can be accommodated as scholastic or as ill: desire however they cause not because they have never had access to Onomatopoeia, but only to repeating and bubbling an intelectuality and supporting a Paraclausithyron subtracted from its lover and thus sustained only by the substance of jouissance, of crying outside the object’s door, thinking that this is a magnanimous parallel to desire: and she, she that once has been friends with wolves without realizing that herself was a scavenger and most of the times a killer of desire, has revealed a secret which has been a shared truth among those who have been building statues to the Gods of simpletons, that desire is a defense to the Real, without even passing from their sacred heads that the statement alone brings Freudian psychoanalysis to a stage before Lacan.

And they have redeem the proud in spirit and those who have identified with a know how, some of those flatterers who seek like rats the power of the gaze within institutionalized paranoias instead of establishing themselves as points of reference within civilizations and cultures, and therefore they reduce the function of an organization to what it is not in relation to desire, have not even dreamt of, that in psychoses the subject dedicates its flesh to the carmen figuratum because it forms a structure with the embodied Other from the place of the object, and that this minimum structure allows for a body within a poetic melancholy and a slight paranoiac jouissance that the Other is to blame: and yet again here the suffering subject enjoys a body: and that my dear, you that you have once and plethora argued that this is the Desire of the Other- the greatest of the greatest jokes if one has actually had at least a portion of the Breath of what is this Ουσία present as a Verb and not as a Subject, that Ergon- the Desire of the Other that the Hysteric seeks has nothing to do with Desire but, very clearly, it is the very place of the object in the topology of the jouissance of the Other. And thus for the blind man to see and for the deaf woman to hear, to pursue the adventure of life and desire, the creativity of the psychoanalysts is asked, for, they will place themselves not in relation to the diagnosis of hysteria but in relation to the Figures of Speech.

On the Quantum Mechanics of the Breath

From the abyss eluded a kind prophet, friendly and ceremonial and with an affectionate touch for the arts to which he served as procrastinator- oh my dear- good for the arts and newspapers but not a psychoanalyst; dear friend you are yet to experience a surface without holes because you are constrained in what is lacking and thus you can never be a fire fly within the mist and understand with your deepest gnosis that the Breath redeems one from responding to its name from a body conquered by language.

Have you not heard the gypsies who hissed the verse, that sublimation is a perversive and imaginary act, but not an Act, for, the subject becomes a source of desire perversing a structure that does not allow the children to play: it is the foreclosure of playing itself: it has been written when one has spoken to the many, that the instinct is not closer to the Das Ding but neither is Trieb, because the true source of Eros is the Breath- it is not erotogenous and does not genitise the Acts of Faith towards the Sinthome for it goes beyond the fantasy offered gracefully from the borromean knot and the Other; libido changes its prayers to its objects because those themselves change their habits as monks dedicated to a habit they do not own, and they do not and they can not own them because they are not one with them, but only become one through the wilderness of the identifications of the signifier and the mirror; monks, those in question could have been one with their Acts if they could have articulate them in writing with a body that sculpts Letters within the platform of the world, for, such could have only be the full speech of their desire: the return of the repressed waves away the priest from the oracle.

When desire marks the body who Acts, whose speech is an axe, eros find its source and it is not of the flesh: women should have been brave enough to support this testament; the act of faith is that which surpasses the laws of faith. We have not been able to create a new perversion because we were too scared to go beyond the body of Freud, but not beyond the subject breathing in the word; such a breath exists away from the binary; the act is towards the binary and exalts an object to an ideal: there is no sublimation but a breath because the Breath is a true speech where truth and Act are one for once but not for all. And how will you sustain your body if not by been one with your Act, one which will replace the ‘object a’ in the new knot, the glorious body of Christ that Lacan mentioned once- that new body which I have been writing a few years now, one that is centralized around an Act: for, one cannot be the object in its own fantasy my dear friend.

On the Foreclosure of the Act: the New Unconscious.

The Κήρυγμα of a not war, of an Act without the Other that is foreign to desire, that which it is neither received nor understood by the arrogant princes of intellect; and it is perceived as wild because it would have been difficult to construct a given geography without tools that are given before hand by those who have reached and received knowledge from the domain of shadows- thus the way of necromantic paranoia is preferable than that of the quixotic mystic who has to read and be written according to the Figures of Speech.

The sons of the whore of Babylon will never speak English, for, they are happily arrogant within the beautiful truth of their fantasy- that there is no God; and because of this they will never seek, never find, or never read and certainly not write that which is supposed to be transmitted from one body to the other when psychoanalysts are formed: interpretation ought to fruitage magnificently the signifier of a new Act when it comes to analysis, no less than when it comes to life because they are one; and yet those arrogant martyrs of boredom, whose books and language- and rotten faith- have no idea that the first interpretation is the point of orientation in the form of a topology where the subject will place his body and faith, one that ought to contextualize and to create a love affair- call it a fuck if you wish- on What is psychoanalysis for that specific subject. But to do so, one must at first get rid of the “sacred cloak” of psychoanalyst.

And under the veil of a dead man’s wish in Hades, once a king and a great warrior, to be alive and exist as the slave of the slave on earth, a pale movement apparatus comes forth with a grimace ironizing the leader of the sons of whores, murmuring and whispering to their ears What an amazing Other of the Other is created here with this so called metonymy because there is no body!

The Act is the metalanguage. Such whispered further the mumbling king: the phallus is not a cut after all, but a small topology within the topology of the knot that allows movement and certain space from the Voice: the speaking body cannot be today’s unconscious- today’s unconscious is a God that does not Act. It is Apraxia my dear friend that has been elevated along with vomitus speaking as the new bodies, bodies that speak but do nothing; the whore has been giving birth to sons that foreclose “work” and the “Act,” who are flatterers of the intellect and praise psychoanalysts who, since they gave an oath to Atheism that became the new image of their Mammon, their only direction is paranoia: for, it is paranoia or desire. Boring- too boring- the diagnosis of a structure in order to find the place of the analyst: this is what disables the possibilities of the Act, but very few women would dare to say to their magnanimous spouses that his acrobatics and techniques are worthy of a circus and not for love making: they will not dare, those women analysts, because themselves seek to become men: what forbids the No-Body is this phallus my friend.

On the Oath of Psychoanalysts

A new Atheism: a God who exists, all-powerfully speaks, but cannot Act.

Alef lsk min: for the one who is all merciful but can never act as one, because his desire has never acquired a body and has remained to the fathoms of articulation- it does however receive an organism from time to time and that is why he is commanded by the Other’s jouissance; but desire refers not to that one, no, certainly not to the object Breath for it is formless and that is why is has to be given substance by the Act- not to that one, I was saying, but the one who is zero, and yet we have discovered that the letter becomes one with the Subject, that fearful Κίνησης, when the truth and the Act are one. Amen.

Alef isk min: and the beautiful berse goes, that the Greeks lost but they will win; and they will win because of their faith: they know, those who can write with the πνεύματα, that the One is reincarnated in the drive, in repetition, in the same and the Other all of which are reincarnations within a set but not reinventing of a unique Act and of a Breath that signs the motion- it is the drive that assists the One to emerge from the emptiness but we should have operated desire and the act within the unknown. It is where the death drive becomes your vehicle beyond Νόησης, beyond the final borders of the body and of paranoia that is, after all, a defense to the possibility of uniqueness and oneness of the Truth with its Act- a possibility for the psychoanalyst to receive an awakening and not paranoia if he is bold enough to hold the devil by the horns: every daredevil ought to venerate the Cardinal of monads and establish a few square centimeters of faith to the canon of the emptiness of the One because the one emerging reiterates desire: it is written but not read that “A number to the power of zero is always One,” but a letter, aleph, at the power of zero is the Act: the square root of desire is the act- I have said that before. And to venerate Heraclitus we have to commemorate that the War, the father of all, the infamous Πόλεμος, is not the fighting of the one who is trapped within the drive and the topology of the Other’s knot, but it is the “I separate and I create,” and within this I become the Act where the object was: for, I cannot be an object in the topology of my desire but only its Act. This is the New-Body, the πνευματικόν σώμα, that which Lacan referred to on that day as the resurrected body of Christ. Amen.

On the Sublimation of the Feminine Object

Within the structure there cannot be sublimation or an Act; Sublimierung is the kinesis when the object is ostracized to corral the place of the Thing, not of the letters of the patronymic name of the father and the antipodal of the second life but of the signature of the autograph of one’s’ Acts- we will not perorate of Lazarus’ legend once again: lo and behold of the thieves of the cross and perceptibly of those who have elopemented it, and, who, who could have been with the effortlessness by which a few representatives of flattery of Irish ancestry, prophets of Docetism, of those who stated with the moronic certainty of the devil that there are only two types of Acts; this retorting scientists of a Freudian praxis away and far away from life but nearer to those truths that are of intellectualism and of phrenic cowardice: there have been patients, but not analysts because the sublimation is of those objects that are masculine, quantitative in terms of the drive and the metages that are of the phallus- the real phallus is the cause because psychoanalysis is a practise of life, declared on the soil that stinks of a living Breath: lo and behold of the analysts who have never surpassed their own anxieties- lo and behold of the analysts who cure but create not the possibilities for novel formations unless those fall under the dimensional geography of the master- they have forgotten that they never ought to be lacking in zeal because they are doomed to be desiring subjects, and keep their spiritual fervour, serving the cause- until they die, not because they seek to live: life cannot be but the Verbification of the Subject of the Unconscious: this is the obol of the analysts.

 

There cannot be a real sublimation unless the object is feminine: it is at this summit of gentle holiness and loneliness that the object becomes a cause writting signifiers from letters owning nothing to jouissance but dedication to desire, for, in its empire of sublimation- drive, satisfaction that “Does not ask anything from Anyone” takes one and hopefully many away from the spells of the Other, to that infamous Being Silent who knows the ways of the Letters’ kinesis, and who cannot only read the breath like the Yogis but can actually write on its plasmatic courses and love manners: for, it is not enough to have the imaginary, or even symbolic metamorphoses of the drive- it has never been enough unless psychoanalysts have given the same oath, that is to manipulate the signifier who manipulates and the subject shifts its place in the same fundamental fantasy- this is enough for a cure but never enough, and it has never been enough, to format the pilgrimage towards the formation of analysts, where Paranoia and Pronoia, and by these I mean faith that the modern psychiatry has classified as aspects of psychosis- faith is an illness especially if it is cored on the Act of a glorious leader who can cause desire: Metousiosis is the means to the dark domains of each cause, for, the Ουσία nurtures the feminine object; and if there have been three emissions of analysts, one towards the cure, the second towards the truth, with the magnificent talents of Lacan and Bion, then there is another one that is towards the Act- certainly not for those who are fainthearted: “I know your deeds; you have a reputation of being alive, but you are dead,” because they are deeds and not Acts.

 

And to the knowing what to do with the oral object, that represents the impossibility of the identifications of the signifier to establish the hunger of love, a love that does not need the erogenous zones as Lacan clearly states in the Knowledge of the Psychoanalyst seminar, here are marked the words to the angel: “To the angel of the church in Laodicea write: The Amen, the faithful and true Witness, the Beginning of the creation of God, says this: ‘I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot; I wish that you were cold or hot, but because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of  My mouth.”

 

But dear Lord, the Breath cannot be spilled, for it is that which moves and loves the Lunguage- the Πνοή του Λόγου.

On the Four Functions, which are only Two

There is no desire -libido- except masculine: such says he who has never cruised nor navigated that threshold, which once has been the law of a faithful canon’s decretum: such has aforementioned the serenade  of he who has crossed it and, having seen the confusion on the faces of the audience, has remained silent for the truth revealed by the foreshadowing, to come in the decades after him: indeed, the smoulder of identifying with the father’s signifiers is masculine, but not libido, never has it been at the level of the Act, because a problematic desire, precisely  because it is emblematic, if it is masculine, it is jouissance: period, or a fool’s stop because they try to contextualize the Real of the Breath through Knots made of fickly sacred ropes and disgraceful lariats- not an inch of a true faith, that Real’s Faith time, neighbouring to that which is represented from the Windhauch.

 

And the good Lord has asked from Abraham a son: this is not an event but the circumstance of Moira’s exigencies of an oedipal topology beyond the linearity of the panorama of the subject’s history, and of those candle-flames representing the ghosts and spectres of time: his own son, who has been on the side of the Letter whispered between his lips, Before Abraham I am, because before history there is structure but it is only my Act that brings forth desire- and all along and sparking its lights, in front of a given structure there are the Letters; Lacan’s sacrifice of the father- was it because he has listened without questioning like a ram: oh, the true sacrifice is the faith on the man’s position, a castration of his own Yes of the father, that one pointing the spear perpendicularly on the emptiness between the one and the zero: but that is the domain of the Woman, said Isaac: and, the cherubim has represent oneself with a voice and roared that this in fact is the elementary element of the initiation to the Faith of the Act, always erectile but not phallic onto and towards the axis of signification: Lazarus, come out, do not be afraid of your own shadow, for, the woman is not the locus of the Other; psychoanalysts are doomed to be desiring subjects, no more and no less.

 

On the Foreshadowing of the Subject of the Act: The Έργον

An analysis which does not invoke the faith of the Act of life, is an empty speech- it is a cenotaph, unoccupied by the equi-vocal carcass, to be there, accordingly that the subject testifies that he does not belong to the flesh of that speaking corpse: that is how a resurrection ought to occur: this is to be explained as a crisis in psychoanalysis, nothing else: for there cannot be a crisis in psychoanalysis yet there can be a crisis with the psychoanalysts- one ought to love moments of crisis, be those of an imaginary order, for, it is those crises that will enable the breathing space and responsibility of the subject’s Act in support of the emerging of the Έργον.

 

And,  to murmur delicately a word to the theologian, himself the leader of murmurers and devout to the lettering of the oral object but not to the letter, he who masticates his phonemes acclimating of a desire that not much can be said about because he knows not what he is doing, and a Real who is beyond signification but not beyond an orientation because the Real is the Ethic, yes, beyond vocalizations but not beyond the Act: he who forsakes the act necessary for the living- for, he cannot see desire but as an empty Nothing: it is his own species, creatures of death and not subjects of life who have intellectualised psychoanalysis into a discourse subtracting the body of the world, castrating castration itself and never uttering at least, that, that the object of desire is the Breath, itself not materialised with the phallus’ measurements, itself not a fantasy whose ways depict the structure but the Παρουσία of the Παράκλητος, the Holy Breath sectored at the voice of the subject who ligaments his body not, not, not with Knots but with the draught of the Phoneme’s emission of intonations, sententious to the ears of he who has had a perspicacity of Death; and the Dream, that which Freud has given us with himself as the Double of his double, as the mirror testifies for the double raised on the square power, and where he pays his regards to the passage of miserable comforters of life, who are a misadventure in creating the emptiness of space of a spirit, lenders of an imaginary discourse to cure only to exterminate the subject, not so much from his signifiers but from the utilisation of an Act: the knowledge here is not of the I know nothing but of the I know so I assume the responsibility of the praxis because in the Real the Letters disappear where there is the Breath: transliteration, that which has been explain as a Μεταγραφή, not a metalanguage but a transliteration, and, for that to occur, so that Lunguage would emerge, the psychoanalysts’ punctuation ought to be at the level of a rough breathing perpendicular- such the Act functions on the graph of desire and the inconsistency of jouissance and desire- to what has been a primary vowel or diphthong: one does have the responsibility to hear not only the holophrastic  adventures of the signifiers but those of the letter too.

 

And from this consistency of the act and desire- one not representing another, an one that is not repeated- and their adhesiveness to the Kinesis of their ethic, the Έργον emerges into the world, not the scene, without the φ and a desire functioning as a pulsation and a lighthouse in the Pangaea of the Apeiron to enrich the shadow of the object; and, though it is perpendicular and breezes in from atop the graph of desire, it is of the earth, for, there is no Other foundational speech other than the I desire and therefore I Act: it is when in Kinesis: that is the Έργον as there cannot be any one thing more metaphysical that the Ethic of Life nominated as the Freudian Ascetic experience of psychoanalysis: the ΠαρΟυσία of the Παράκλητος, who is said to be absent from the sessions and it is him precisely that one may invoke within the session’s Real time, for, and because, of this presence the subject proceeds to his Act- he who has never been called by psychoanalysts because they are bound to the pseudo-ethical dimension of a deontology of their aphasic apraxia, and for that reason, they, either cannot speak to the world, or, they, they as they say, speak onto an imaginary platform of knowledge and thus reducing the real experience into a complicated intellectualism, a new version of a phallic position as they cannot move; an analysis which does not invoke the faith of the Act is an empty speech: as long as a full speech reveals its chasm and lack because of the presence of the Act- the fifth constituent by which analysts endear the object and not the discourse, because that which cannot be said is an Act: one may not identify that with a doing and neither refer it as knowledge, certainly not that psychoanalysts are doomed to evaporate as soon as the figure of speech of a given analysand shows to them that one may not position his arrangement according to the coordination of a structure’s Antinomination, especially when it comes to the specificity of the Act.

 

The Έργον speaks: I desire, therefore I Act– a foreshadowing of a speech, which is the Lunguage of the Act: here is manifested a cool heavenly gentle wind, the Breath, a good use of the gap’s emptiness: beyond the structure the barrenness itemize the Act, which is not One so it cannot be repeated- there is no incompatibility between desire and Act: and the vocative case of Desire is life itself- for, further than the agony of lack accompanying the empty amplitudes  of an architectural configuration, the actual traumatic experience of knowing what to do with the Real is the responsibility of one’s Act, the Άγών, an uncontaminated manifestation of Freud’s to love and to work, only that, as said before, and as far as life is concerned, no psychoanalyst has ever been a athletics’ legend; because he who is the carrier of the Act confronts the chorus of the linearity of desire and jouissance and ought to descend from the exceeding shield of the Death Drive, from the gap of the Breath, only to be digested into another gap: such is the practice of the Letters- too feminine for he who does not exchange the Phallus for the saving of his soul: and, if the Gods of sentence structures are departed and the subject has misplaced its devotion to what has been aphoristic at the level of a jouissance that eventually emerged as a Name of the Father, a star of Bethlehem leading the magicians to their destination where it has been marked that Out of Egypt I called my Son, this subject ought then to know how to synthesise a hymn with the pieces of its fragmented body, to sustain itself at the level of the praxis- a praxis is when “I represent and embody the Act,” and it is a ΠαρΟυσία: the real castration is the castration of the Ethic that orients the Bethlehem’s star itself, and from the fundamental fantasy one has the passage of honesty to the uninterrupted Fundamental Act: this is the prayer of psychoanalysts, alienated only by its chain of Acts, and the only true Verleugnung is that which blinds the subject from the hollow Αἰθήρ of this Act.

On the Liturgy of the Phallus

‘Ελοΐ Ελοΐ λιμά σαβαχθανί: and yet the Word is not forsaken with the relanguagement of the phallus to which the psychotic subject will inveterate its circumscription to the kinesis of a cause, for, the metric system of a position that has no oscillation and yet it is sexual cannot exist without its binary, mistaken that, that that which cannot be read has been nominated as such, because psychoanalysis has elapsed that those letters having no inscription are not read in the direction of the signifiers, better to murmur doxologized, but, in this displacement’s rhythm, they dimension their form-id-able cry from left to right and in negation to the antithesis of the antonym’s location when it eclipses the linearity of the graph of the signifier’s stasis within the structure∙ and, yes, and that as it has been perceived by the experience of the psychoanalyst’s savoir-faire with the limited devotion to the Organon, which is neither a phallus nor a penis, and who, that he in question, who does not version to recompense the nuisance to inaugurate the proverb’s new truth, once again, one by one, but as the Golden Ass of Apuleius, the asinus aureus that even saint Augustine has been concerned to remark, in his privacy he repeats it, reinventing the signifiers of the wheel: that is the begetting of the position of the supposed subject of idiotic knowledge, surely with the phallus and certainly delicate: it is that which indeed can have the sexual characteristics of time without a phallus∙ and, to this sorrowful conception of a language of a Subject articulating a desire but does not act on it, because the juggler in the king’s temple has avowed that not much can be articulated about desire, even less to act upon it, resulting in an ideal of a speaking subject castrated of its verb afar from the ErgOn, one in the forms of many elevating Rasputin’s fame to that which only the queen knew, to which the Freudian dream would laugh at the false mystery of the statement, that interpretation is dead: for, if the mystery of interpretation has been indemnified, it is because psychoanalysts have been trans-muted into barbarians, foreigners to these new languages and narrative alphabets, for, themselves and their practice is Alien to the real world, with many cured subjects and very few analysts: the letter’s own voice demands that a terrible ear grasp its paradoxical shape, which is flux: this is the Aether allowing to, to he who has no Other to become paranoid∙ on behalf of the issue at hand not been misidentification and neither dis-identification as the body is but a runic transliteration to which desire is dedicated to the altar of the flesh, in perpendicular position but not motion, one to be originated with the blade of the Act for the reason that the knot of a Gordian nature requests to be scarified, when the psychoanalyst can allow his own body to remain on the chair so to introduce the threshold of Λόγος, which is kinesis, perpendicular and not horizontal that is the passage of the signifier: the act in the letter is that which frees those letters and whose sound do not tinkle like feathers the psychoanalyst impressionability because he does not permit to the irony of the voice to shape the activity of the letters, from left to right like numbers, always backwards and chained into the syllabic propositions of the consonant· the Ousia is not an after nor a before, for it is not timed, but harmony equal to the proportion of the modulor and the body inscription of diphthongs, whose union establish that homo-gene-ity which is of the word embodied and from whose faith the signifier is personified: κα λόγος σρξ γένετο: but never the πνεμα: that, that which is a letter destined to breath and not to breed the Same, like the signifier.

 

And he who has a barbarian essence and spells an echo according to the understanding of a structure and not of the diver-a-gency of the alphabet, holding that scepter which is masculine and supposedly further than a given sympathetic meaning, but, a representative of the sybaritic representation of the carnival of the phallus as an antidote to the phenomenology of the gaze, where, or, instead, he who is a diviner of the Logos knows that the apparitions are spelled out by the Voice to this pompe of the signification of the subject of the unconscious, that- and this is what is forgotten because of psychoanalysts’ admiration of the phallus- cannot exist without a Verb: a fecundity sacrament, not of Desiraction and a devouring commemoration of another Tre Ore along the theme of life yet never part of it, reverberating and not verbifying, the trauma of the signifier’s skeleton∙ and, the sibylline depended clauses utter that an object within a cause, that which causes desire, will do better than the phallus, only that the liturgy of Freud’s and Lacan’s signifiers’ as they have been conceived, not through a parthenogenesis but through the sexual position of been or having of the priest, and not of Act and cause, are too much adored from he who still thinks that can have sex with a woman∙ and, because the source, that, that which is inhuman and not bodily, is a circle without a corner to rest, akin to a language and spoken in a parapraxis of desire as a purpose of its speech: and, lo and behold- there, there the Thing tinted lenses its first creation: that which is Lazarus: he who has lived again without the phallus∙ and, in terms of a hypostasis, relating to one Ousia- my dear friend, it is just the configuration of this statement in a different order, for, it is three Ousies and one hypostasis∙ one does not negotiate desire: there are a few letters in the poem put together and produce this famous Act, a signature itself written by your being and that infamous Freudian body∙ for, the inter-cession of the Letter is the principle by which the breath lends a hand and conducts supporters of the Cause who search with a reconciliation with the breath, which is desire: no signifier can mark the body during inhalation.

 

And if we know how to request kindly a question to en-grave a few words, just to smell the oxygen of an empty space, it would have been related to the Freudian construction in terms of the breath: what is actually been constructed if the practice is beyond the father∙ certainly this construction is not the liturgy of the phallus.

On the Breath of the Das Ding.

And, from the hither, that here cognominated by those libidinous syllables and letters spelling the analysand’s Apraxia, that, that which traps the analyst in his own disposition unable to animate the eupnea’s formation, a breath that desires and the pulsating heart of the Das Ding, which is a breath, a letter and the allelomorphic cough of the cause’s representative, that is, that which causes desire, analysts are decomposed by accumulating freely the alphabet∙ and yet, and hopefully then, the parallelogramic equation of the analyst’s kinesis within this Act functioning as a plasma, a matter equipoising a mystery of ensarkosis without a first cause, can have some intimate thoughts about, not poetry alone but Allopoiesis, since, and along these unfathomable vernaculars, a systematic phenomenology of the Other becomes Alien because the system produces an account different from the system itself∙ and when then Gentile, he who becomes more feminine in spelling and less masculine in the system of the signifier’s gnosis within the structure of the Other and enters time itself with precision, because, as an object cause it moves in the vicinity of the arrow supposed to strike it, and carries into the open a blaspheme to the ears of the messengers who have become agronomists of the bad seed, the desire in the dream seeks instead of the analyst seeking the symbol: for that, the direction of a formation is from the Logos to the Myth because sexual relationship cannot do without it, without that magical realism to whom Herodotus has been more faithful than Thucydides- a myth of xenoglossy for him, that analyst, who is afraid to encounter the infamous vagina dentate because he still holds his practice from his penis: it is he, who produces the blastheme because he is not causing any agrammatism to Lacan’s own signifiers, but becomes a true teacher- a Pythia who interprets by herself: that is a vagina dentate, without a doubt.

 

 

The Psychoanalytic Act: On the Formation of the No-Body.

By Petros Patounas.

The School of the Freudian Letter Publications.