Archive - Letter

On the Oath of Psychoanalysts

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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

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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 Liturgy of the Phallus

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‘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: καὶὁ λόγος σὰρξ ἐγένετο: but never the πνεῦμα: 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 Transliteration of the Psychoanalyst.

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The being is not an emblematic tautology whispering that the being is being: that it is antecedented by the sophist or the polemicist whose most private member has been replaced by a pansophy, not much of a different organ, when, still, the object of copulation is the woman to be reduced to a rib taken from a man∙ the being is a cause, when the Das Ding be-comes a Das Being, a command of desire to Be a cause, be-cause the signifier is repressed but not the Letter: this is the enumerating prayer that is not numeric and not a Noumenon by which one knows how to use the Real.

 

Not, not the Act of speaking, neither that of the subject of speech, of the ὑποκείμενον– but from, not of, the Act who Speaks: that is not the speaking being of the been speaking, but the ErgOn whose vitality is not ornamentalised by the forename of the acting out founded on the What cannot be said nor upon that which has not been received or interpreted from the Other, but of an Acting because It is said: and, if an uninhabited dictionary entry would have been able to verbalize, or, at least to stutter its demand for a genesis of that godforsaken destitute received by the object, that would have been the definition of Saint Christopher the Dog whose being is without a theory of forms, an άσχημος, without a shape, as the intonation of the object ά moves beyond but not apart the schema, from the Entelechy to Entelexia, which marks the revelations of the Letter and the Ascesis of the psychoanalyst sourcing the transliteration of his desire∙ it is a mere flash of humor to take a huff from the Other of the Rosetta Stone and the transliteration of the hieroglyphs of a system, which is a metasis and not desire, since the letter scripting the afar of the ethics of a system’s coordination cannot assist the metousiosis of the Ascesis, one practiced with the analyst’s being, a Μεταγραφή of the proper orientation not of the treatment but of the analyst and fervently not in terms of transcription that is the way of the scribe, a servant of capitalism’s Ousia, who asserts that the ear of interpretation is dead whilst it is more alive than ever and simply he cannot interpret, implied one has the capacity of bathing within the expansion  of the Apeiron, the Real of the letter and not of the signifier and of the structure, and without a second thought, of the semiotic analytic position, a death drive of no motion and a daughter of an alphabet which is of Lepsius, not towards meaning and application from one to another, be that of signifiers or of meaning, but due to its use of diacritic marks: failed, would be those who attempt to read and not dance, upon letters who are not notes and thus they are breaths, macrons of vowels indicating the way of desire and speech, eventualising the subject for the Act- that of life.

 

And, from the cause, derives the exigentia, not the agency but the urgency’s writing on the flesh gambling on this exigency whose ink escapes repression: the signifier is repressed but not the letter, for, it breathes encapsulating the availability of a destiny, not that of an epitaph to whose chair the psychoanalyst sits comfortably like a caliph, but one whose testicular organs have been removed just to identify with a philosopher autocrat not allowing himself to be written, never irrigating the introspective that the unconscious is timeless but not space-less, because desire, within that which is an unadulterated creation yet not a parthenogenesis, is not a hamlet nor a locus, as much as that is designated by the signifier, but a direction into the abysmal and unmethodical Aether, of the substance interweaving with the registers∙ the Aether is that which is not a number: not the agency but the Exigency of the Letter, emanating not in space and not on a body’s periphery, whose pursue is to be articulated within a material that in inhuman- and how difficult is it to bear the gymnastics of a discourse that clamors for the risorgimento of interpretation, which cannot be dead because the analyst’s voice is not taken into account, since it reduces the interventions to a “What shall happen now∙” it is not what, a So what, “What will happen now”- but a “What are you going to do”∙ for, the Aether is not the Other while the macros intervene upon those Diphthongs with a cut∙ that would have been more wise for the philosopher who cannot produce an Act for the reason that he states that there are only two Acts in psychoanalysis, what a simpleton, to name it a Laceration– the letter does not appear when the signifier is cut, but another signifier∙ and yet, because Lernaean Hydra’s head is reproduced and expands when Herculean hands axe one head, we ought to laugh with the disciple of truth, who would have known that what is been cut needs to be cauterized: that is a definite stain upon a body, ligatures that life’s discourse itself seethes on what it could have been a formation not based on Nomina Sacra, as these sacred names are letters not bent through the desire of the Subject: and those do need an Act to condense the vinculum’s sexual attraction upon the letter and meaning.

 

The Ethic, which is a Breath, not that poisonous commencing from Hydra’s mouth as the myth has it, does not require a Father but a drive to be driven by the source and not its object- not in a lunate proposal where the letter would be a mere representation of a signifier but through the kinesis of what the σίγμα within the scheme of a proper name’s fermentation agents is testifying at the crossroad of Arete and Kakia, where the signifier becomes a sacred letter and the subject identifies with the grammar of the master, not its discourse: both embodiments are women and the letter is beyond the Woman, for, it is not a dedication∙ and, when this latter identification occurs, there is no bar or vinculum, but the tilde who aims, not a ‘that’ aims, at the new apocatastatic use, though to deal with the same Ousia that has been ex-communicated to the function of cacophonising desire∙ for, the psychoanalyst is called to read not, not the acting out, but the circumflex in the foreshadowing of the mathematical con-text’s alleviation reducing the Letter into a number, thus transforming its utility, and, hence, resulting to what Julian the Apostate’s chirography has probed by vilipending the divination of Λόγος from the carcass, to “Recite a prayer to a corpse”∙ a transmission from the animal to the animal, and not to the human, an illness of the breath in Proteus’ motion: that is why it is said that interpretation is dead, because of the name day of that corpse who cannot interpret by transliterating the Letter to desire: Abecedarium Stasis.

On the Verbification of the Subject of the Unconscious.

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The cadaver of the protoplast is born dead- it is not inbred out of desire but of the strength of the veto against it: one ought not to call this proscription C’est la Vie, but denial of the gerund of its essence∙ and then, the breath autographs the corpse with the letter, a first Ousia to punctuate the sibilant diphthongs of what at the beginning can be the Act, an Acta non verba from which the signifier shall contain the fundamental nature of the first averment’s inhalation asking the question, ‘how does the body of signifiers breathe’∙ this is the Oedipus’s dome’s entreaty, which, the analyst, will not ex-cogitate to recite, unless indeed the verge of free association is passed with his asomatic s-ex-instance, and twirling around akin to the letter of the river of a dervishing dance, whole but not holy, and, no less in flux than the letter, which is not flowing but locked into the dyspnea of a structure: that is an Ascesis and not an Act, and it could have been a memorial if this subject had not been breathed into the verbification, if only one really has faith to the process of in-activity and of the unconscious, not of the subject but of its transliteration that is a gerundus whose letter’ agency operates no less than a verb within a Cause∙ and, because the genes of the Ephesians hold the edifice dense, unyielding to the smother of a representation and a child of a discourse that cannot be but a re-semblance, as if it could include in the citation form’s liver the inhalation occupying the gracefulness of libido, of the lamella∙ for, it is dismal when it is said, sorrowfully, that psychoanalysis suffers because of capitalism and science: bring to a halt that silence of mastery and operate on a desire∙ aim at the Ergon and not so much at the being who cannot speak of its act, because, that which cannot be said requires an act∙ ears in pain have listened to those signifiers a few thousand times and cavities have been bored of that taste, for,  respect is not paid to those discontents that allowed psychoanalysis’ birth and existence, which are the equal to what they were when it was at first conceived by Freud: that Letter, which is psychoanalysis, and it is a kinesis that is prepositional- never a stasis.

 

And, the Ephesians speak and utter about context, and not about the declension where not the signifier but the letter is possessed by the signifier in a Semiosis and use, but not in motion, different situations and areas, of a geometrical land not oxygenized by what is a mark of punctuation, to ask and wonder about the Δασεία, with its own right an accurate pneumatic Ethos indeed – yet, the truth is that: if there is a resistance, it is on the side of the analyst, as much as it is at the side of psychoanalysis: you ought not to accept quoting what has been taught to you and, instead, brush your own words by learning the alphabet that the analysand is teaching you, unless you seek to be a master aiming at knowledge and not gnosis, which is a science unlike any other: and when you set up vowels, your voice ought to expose that desire, not aiming to those ears functioning as a gaze to your jouissance, deplorable witnesses and the leftover sperm of the Other, but, let us say, desiring that heart and breath, for, that formation which is like a language and cannot be prepared without punctuation allowing for breathing: and if Doxa, that which appears to you as an idea, for, your actions and jouissance cannot speak differently, leads your way, in a manner worse than that of Docetism, which, still without the actual image of an image, though of fantasy, is holding your object, better to think of Ἔνδοξα, that which includes each being’s Ergon, not the Act but the Ascesis, hopefully to devastate your own cave where psychoanalysis’ Gerousia, those old men of honor who know but cannot listen, recompense their obols so far not for pass-aging the river that is of fire, itself a threshold, fomenting strong beliefs in the idolum tribus of the orientation: Methuselah’s death drive, absolutely not Alien but of an Other or of the Same: the practice of the letter is avalent, where the voice, not the gaze that is of the subject of the signifier, refers to the verb of the unconscious- oh, certainly an object that is Real and not a veil- the Real of an Act that is to become Ascesis: such is the practice of the subpoena that transubstantiates itself upon the same Ousia yet not re-engraved.

 

And, from the subject, here, is untaught the verb, letters and modicums of the Das Ding, of the corpo-real that is Ethical of a Kinesis and not of a location, full of life, participles diving into a register that is Apeiron∙ and, because many will travel and knowledge will be increased- such says Daniel: that is actually the issue at hand: knowledge will be increased, knowledge, this solidness which cannot be transmitted, and not desire roaring both, both for an Act and faith to the ethic that is Real- it strains and outcries about the Ascesis, which is not an Act: the agony of psychoanalysis requests more Herodotus and less Thucydides∙ and, if you have the sense of hearing that idiotic colorless green ideas sleeping furiously- what a miraculous deed, in-deed: you have just caught the subject’s breath beyond meaning and structure itself: the Verbification of the subject of the unconscious- this is what it is to practice with the letter∙ it is heavy, too heavy of a mouthful of air for your jouissance to listen to- and that is why you prefer death: since Freud, psychoanalysis searches for the unconscious knowledge with the hope of a transmission- oh, certainly: that is the problem- a knowledge that can be transmitted∙ and to approach the letter with the cut, to scan and produce meaning with supplementary exploit within a coordination where analysts canister to observe from afar and become technicians and not activists, and yet, the voice, the voice of he who is supposed to create speaks not and unquestionably hears not of the diaeresis of the letter, of the diphthongs that are not holophrastic, that Επιφώνημα and the punctuation vocalizing its iambic desire∙ for, a transmission there ought to, at first, be the occurrence of the tongues of the Pentecost, not knowledge∙ where, capitalism and science do not function as the Other of psychoanalysis, an Other from which we are not alone to assume the responsibility of our own Acts, for, those can only be Acts of desire∙ it paralyses and stagnates psychoanalysis from assuming its own responsibility for why it does not cause desire within civilization, and why this cool heavenly breaze, that breath not of the holy spirit, torpedoes the subject’s nasal droplets in the same manner that infirmities are transmitted and not desire∙ and listen, and think- if this is the case, then there is an impressive something, an imperative, for us analysts to mumble- unless our blameworthiness is too accurate on this devotion to the Other of capitalism, which is not a discourse but an Ousia from whose anathematic cloning discourses are twisted, one substance that we may call AnOusia because its dark matter and dark energy is ordained  to plasmapheresis, precisely to subtract the Being, the, not need from the demand but desire: and what can we susurrate among thieves about the subject supposed to know if the so-called position of the analyst is not actually a position but  a motion, a kinesis- and this may come along the enigma and statement that the letter designates destiny and the signifier time∙ and thus repetition is deficient from that which desires and from that that which causes it: surely the Agalma is not kinesis, but a solid, too solid of a structure even for Pygmalion to revolve into a woman: how does this transference of leprosy become a breath, if not by the testimony of the I am willing, Be clean, See that you do not tell anyone, But go, show yourself to the priest and offer the gift Moses commanded, as a testimony to them.

 

And the newsmonger who actually reads The Purloined Letter and produces diatonic contexts to the panegyric assembly of the signifiers, may use the Ὀκτώηχος to cantillate the divertimento of Letters, that, that this is how the Subject of the unconscious is Verbificated.

On the Breath of the Das Ding.

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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.

The Holy Spirit: The Breath, Which Cannot be Said.

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That Real, which cannot be said, is an Act- it is a Being Silent, for, that which cannot be said is a breath, the phoneme’s, or, even better, the Letter’s lungful of air ∙ for, the clothes of the king were invisible and yet, the body, that audible membrane perceived as the product of the Other’s Gaze- what a mistaken perception. And, if the practise of psychoanalysis, as much as that is formulated onto Freud’s discovery and towards the sanctified direction for the cause initiated by Lacan, then, what a foolishness is to be, to investigate that which cannot be said of the Real by speaking about it, when, when my dear friend, you ought to know a better joke to a-muse us, through your own experience of that gap ∙ that Real, which is restricted, is the hole overflowing with desire and, from where, a subject recites neither a prayer nor a speech- but a breath of cool heavenly breeze, and it preserves only the nomination of desire and its rite de passage, forcing a subject, a given one, to say “This is where I should be, for, here I desire, therefore I breath:” and, in the hunt for noble words, or at least a few amusing syllables, to be able to declare a, not many, words of honesty, and surely less of intellectualism, for something that is quite a new creation with each and for each subject, then, let us cough and scratch that which tickles our throat, and ingest our tongues’ glossalgia, once again, out of pain and because there is, so far, inscrutability and continuation of faith to the mystery of the question, not what, but how is it to be a human being, not that which speaks of its desire but, that, that who also acts on it- it is with the act, dignified friend, that, that which cannot be said becomes a breath, one of desire: the Lectis Thing of the ErgOn.

 

 

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

By Petros Patounas.

The School of the Freudian Letter Publications.

The Duty of Psychoanalysis.

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A duty is not a dept· the duty of psychoanalysis is its commitment to the ethic responsible for providing the practise itself a space within the discourses of civilization- it is the duty towards the symptom’s bronchophony in the direction of that serpentine desire pushing for recognition∙ there cannot be psychoanalysis without civilization, and there cannot be a civilisation without psychoanalysis: more than anything, the analyst is Kinesis, and he precipitates, outside of time, those interventions upon the Letter so that free speech is lawfully recognized: a speech that is perpendicular- nothing more. That motion, not the subject in progress, or in process, is not locked within sessions, neither within the repetitive sounds captured by a wall’s ear- as they say- or behind soundproof doors where one’s hieroglyphic echo is not only not becoming epigraphic, but, it is swallowed by the catatonia of the analyst’s own desire· when analysts speak their voices ought to crumble the walls of Jericho, of that Ιερός Ήχος of the unconscious that is structured like a language but is heard like a Letter: we ought to be at least responsible to carry the burden of our own speech, and raise a voice- not too much of a silence: to raise a voice towards those teeth accountable for producing almighty discourses leading to cloning, that is, those phonemes crashing subjectivity within the cultural discourses denying the subjects’ right to create their own place and their own alphabet- that place that is in-formation: Freud’s staying in Austria until the outmost moment has something to teach regarding this heroic stance, an Act not worthy of an Actor but of an Activist· it is not a support or a submission to the death drive but to life.

 

 

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

By Petros Patounas.

The School of the Freudian Letter Publications.

On the Anonymity of Psychoanalysis.

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The object that acts: you ought to jaw a few letters alleging that the duty for that motion belongs to your desire, even though, God forbid, such a desire is trapped between a xiphoid view of the Other and a master interpreter suffering from otitis: you ought to say, that the duty reliable of that desire guides you, the analyst, to be directed in the treatment and not to direct: you ought to declare, because of that desire, that the Act is anonymous, and the more anonymous it is, the more feminine is transmogrified, and that, there are not only two acts as a technician of psychoanalysis will conclude∙ there is at least another one- besides the act of the analyst and the analysand: there is, intend this plural as an “is,” the Acts of psychoanalysis itself∙ and those are not alone.

 

 

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

By Petros Patounas.

The School of the Freudian Letter Publications.

The Organon of Desire: neither a Phallus nor a Penis.

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The eunuch does not put perpendicular a penis and, without fail, not a phallus- this is to opine, if meaning and the symbolization of an apologue could be the intergradient of a sustenance, which is not at the end, when it comes about to interpret a dream, that the devout follower of a queen, who, when exposed to femininity, does not obtain any anxiety, or so ever, regarding the symbolic castration∙ he, that he without the phallus, does retrospect the donation of the tongues, so much as to speak to a woman’s body· the instrumentality  of the transference is not that of the subject suppose to know- that is not enough for faith- one does need the miracle of speaking many tongues, in fact many letters, not confusion equal to Babelism to whom the gentiles would refer as bar-bar-ism, and had the authority to recite the letter of the signifier’s bar, but, the Apeiron of that great discourse that a woman’s drive is not able to grasp, because of the continuum expressed though the Other and becomes the acrolectal optic disabling the analyst to learn a new correspondence- this is not, honestly, enough to explain the drive’s anaplasia. The distinction between psychoanalyst and psychoanalysand is abolished by the Act- Dixitque Deus: Fiat lux. Et facta est lux– that is a Act, when one’s word is an act by itself· a parallel to the shield of Achilles’ depiction, if we request to speak about that feminine drive, that which can only be a death spirit equal to the Keres, for, it is an excess of itself resisting the psychostasia of the structure determined by the signifiers and the optical field of the gaze.

 

 

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

By Petros Patounas.

The School of the Freudian Letter Publications.