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 Kinesis of the Unconscious.

Regnabo, Regno, Regnavi, Sum sine regno: the letter is Empirical- it is EmpiReal: there is no silence to the drive, unless one cannot hear very well- a true gift for an analyst to grasp the double image of the object whose binary functions can either orient to desire or to jouissance, which is not alone and not mystical,  but with the company of the Other: and because the tachyon, that letter carrying the lights and the letter’s own voice, truly beyond the enlightenment of the imaginary and the image, onto this moving target that moves towards the Βίος of the Heraclitean bow and not in elliptic paradoxes, what is the place of activity of a Cause of desire, which is not a position, is the identification with the object, that which causes desire, not the symptom∙ that my dear unfaithful Thomas, trapped into the circle and the repetition of a meaning yet with the explanations of the Other, locates the kinesis of the unconscious onto the source of the drive and not its tip.

 

And when the object itself  and not its gloominess con-courses the subject, it is not from the phallus that one offers the gift of belief  to an axiom of language, but to the letter that is unparticular inflowing the realm that it is not even uncanny, an EmpyReal to which many an analyst shall be converted into the scale invariant to what can be playacted by a monotonous and not less banausic mouth, that estuary of air of the he who is to speak of ontology with its counterpart, which is deontology, as ethic: and, yet, the candor of the practice is not even that, for, it is a scale invariant without momentum and mass to whose attribute, he, who is the leader of the Arian tribe, shall plead guilty about its musicality, when, in fact himself does not know how to play the piano with the phalanges of the handyman- for intellectuality cannot not offer the prerequisites of the act upon life, which is not a given but can be a creative prosopopoeia, a plasma on its own right, not the subject solicituded within and around the structure.

 

And, if the feet which stand upon a ground dehumidifying an apotheosis, relying to the calumniatory question of sarcasm, of the Where do I start, themselves depict that this deportment of perambulation begins from the matters which are issues of the earth, from that anything forms, debarring that first breath and the Plasmatic appearance of the unconscious in its elemental states of corporeality of a foaming at mouth journeying from the ionized violence of that which is limited by time∙ that is the Γράθμα where the double of the letter has melted at the tip of the tongue and the Γ has passed through the threshold of metousiosis and has been breathed into a Θ, and not  into the halacha of the Jewish law, whose articulation appears to be a letter, to which discourse offers a tube of air present to the scale invariance of the trinity of spatial symmetry, the subject’s reflection, interpretation and rotation: to these the Letter cannot move∙ semiosis and use but not be a Cause∙ and when the object changes positions within the discourse and the body, it is because the subject hides the Parousia of the breathing letters as the so called chameleon assumes the formula of a percolated scalar infinitesimal syllabary with a non-linear interaction to one another since it uses the signifier in resembling a dues ex machine and fools the analyst who thinks he hears very well when he tones his immaculate ear to grasp the harmony of the signifiers, in the same manner that the Ousia of the Aristotelian theories, has been conceived in the time that it was believed the earth was flat- not the Das Ding and neither the subject- leave aside the Ergon∙ and he who is a grand piano thespian, and certainly knows about notes and master signifiers, himself not a master, could have testified in a court of law that the values of the letters is the Niente when the diminuendo has finished, and to where the dark energy which is homousian to the Ousia but not to the breath, an entelechy including the psychoanalytic Act, passageways towards this Everything, which is not simply Real but Apeiron.

 

And here is the question, which is a true mystery, and not a surprise: how does the psychoanalyst intervene on a structure that is plasma? Ποταμοσι τοσιν ατοσιν μϐαίνουσιν, τερα κατερα δατα πιρρε∙ yes- it is true, but besides the Logos- which is what is unmoved and traps the ear of the analyst into a towards the No, and not towards the conduction of the troparion of the προς-ευχή: that is the orientation of the Kinesis towards desire and the answer to the enigma from where do I start.

On the Verbification of the Subject of the Unconscious.

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 κτώηχος 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.

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.

On the Faith of Psychoanalysts: a Cause of Desire, which is a Cause.

The signifier is acrostic to the Letter’s Ousia- not homoousian: it is the Summa Theologica of the Epistula Purloined: and it can be that, because the Act is autonomous, as much as the master signifiers designating the trauma and its destiny, wreathing, and not breathing, with all the musicality of its arias ∙ that faith is indeed the praxis of the subject, an Alien Act to the binary of idolatry of the One and or the Other, not of the Agalma– certainly not that of Pygmalion, whose The Woman has been exteriorized through, and by, a marble stature, a procedure in opposition to that of Orpheus’ and Lot’s faith, with the subsequent man having his name signifying the veil in Hebrew, a veil he did not use because he subtracted his own faith ∙ idolographical, that is a much better of a word for an epistolary poet who has not yet written, not yet, for, the principle is that of desire, a motion in itself and not bound in the ethics of philosophy as it is that which binds an ethic. And, if the Πίστις of the Greeks, with a small object cause of desire in its front, just a small letter α, so to turn the word α-πίστις, and terracing faith to the object cause, which is a cause, the analytic cause, in other words, that is an ethic in its own fundamental nature, then the trust and faith of the analyst is to have a good laugh with the still scientific melancholia of Russell, who, as a true fanatical obsessive seeking to erase any demand alluding to a desire, he commands the subject to bring to an end the process of a delicate science, by saying that, When there is evidence, no one speaks of faith: but dear Bertrand, it is those evidence that aggravate a spirit to request faith.

 

 

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

By Petros Patounas.

The School of the Freudian Letter Publications.

On the Reading that is Symphonic.

The Act is the antiphony of jouissance- the phoneme ought to be sang and spelled out∙ a school and an orientation could have create a chorus, at least regarding the direction of a desire, and to the best of our stupidity we could have made some use of the Liturgia Horarum, for, if there is anything to be venerated, that is not the semblance but that desire for the Cause, not its causality, but that which becomes a breath from the puncture, for, the fissure from where desire shall sprang its motion is for no use but for Kinesis and for the Letter, not a waste of a litter certainly but an abysmal aether, offering the trauma’s sacred pinches and tones to the analyst’s desire∙ it is in this asymmetrical manner that the signifier detects and recognizes the analysts, not the other way around, and within this creation, not an existence, analysts are desired to learn a novel alphabet: each time de novo, for, and because every analysand is different, an analyst is dissimilar, as well, to its own shadow.

 

 

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

By Petros Patounas.

The School of the Freudian Letter Publications.

On the Desire of the Gentile.

If psychoanalysis’ Ousia residues in the interior and the con-text of the session, is not an Act but an old fashioned Pavlovian usance of a different time scale, longer indeed, awaiting the subject’s analyst to be satisfied with how this given analysand deals with his Daimonion, the Other, a function that analysts have revolved- just hear them chatting about it- into an imperceptible other person, reducing its function into an embarrassed cognition supposedly not implied to the analysand: but the voice who is unvoiced it is even more horrible· an unpardonable glimpse and an appraisal without the support of any optical devises, into a number of case studies, depicts the truth, that is, very few analysts canister to speak their own language, remaining thus attentive and attached to a Name of the Father, practicing a psychotherapy, one not been able however to treat their individual symptom, which is cloning: there is no dupe but duple, and, Pavlov, and certainly the supposedly free enterprise oxygenating demands for professionalism, would have been proud of such an exegesis· a professional process not at all human, not even analysis, but the hopeless fetish of he who is parsimonious, if we add desire and ethics into this orgy of professionalism: a franchise within capitalism· as one could smell the phallic redolence of a disintegrating question, which is inhuman as much as it is human, analysis being and present to civilization, to the civilization hosting its free ethical practice allowing subjects to be in formation and not subjected to any theory of forms, is psychoanalysis own Act onto the excess of the discourses asphyxiating the desire of that civilization’s subjects- in this manner the in-formation differs from the semblance’s information leading to cloning and not at all to the creation of a new alphabet, through which analysts cannot plagiarize the responsibility of learning each time anew- and this is the same reason that an analyst is not a position but a Kinesis: yet, he who is obese and refuses to be fed by desire, certainly, cannot move and prefers the position- that of been a cleric of the Other.

 

 

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

By Petros Patounas.

The School of the Freudian Letter Publications.

The Threshold that is not a Gate.

The Act bankruptcies the equivalence of the subject and its signifiers- it is Alien to the discourse that is a semblance∙ what class of an antechamber in the adytum is the analysand’s verdict to accept, not to enter, analysis, and to refuse the replication for the sake of a metasis of its jouissance∙ and who, again, and who, and what genus of a place is the psychoanalytic session, notwithstanding its material coordinates, if not a place where there is no door or a gate- even more to ask is how the session is embodied, as what, in a given analytic culture drowned by the discourses of capitalism and modern science, where, for the very first time, analysts are provoked by the desire that had arrived in Freud’s medulla oblongata, forcing him to glimpse curiously a few kilometres further than the localization of what is a body, and to be exemplifiers of that human arche, which is freedom, through the Act, a threshold of itself, by which psychoanalysis is indebted to civilisation, that very one conditioning the walls and gates of their atrophic practises, as much as of their inability to account for their responsibility and the ethos of an Act as, from that chair that imitates Freud and Lacan, they enjoy undertoning about wild analyses and never of responsible acts: it is true what their never thirsty lips shape- but as such speaks only a coward.

 

The structure indoctrinates the analyst∙ as much as the gospel of Mathew sought to esteem Jesus’s teaching by encompassing signifiers to the prophesies of the Old Testament, so much of the same these analysts have been converted into the temple’s scribes- knowing everything and acting too little, certainly not the few and well desired wished by Lacan in his founding Act∙ indoctrination∙ and, yet, it confines the Act as a discipline locating the body to a solid position- let aside that the Act is an end in itself∙ the profession, let us say, suffers from Atherosclerosis, by greatly provited violent doses of consumption of triglyceride and cholesterol: analysts have become obese and stringy- isolated like illnesses on quarantine, with an anaemic desire never in place and use∙ the analyst does not have any control over the Act, for, its threshold is not a space: the doing and the action are under the spells of a position, not the Act, which is an opposition of rebellion from the hands of psychoanalysis’ capitalism, against those commandments of more speed and the how, upon which a supposed scientific psychoanalytic reasoning has evolved- what the analyst is control of, when it comes to the act, is the ethos allowing in overcoming a law that is unlawful when confronted with the human, very human, desire- to that, we ought to admit that analysts are better quote-vaporisers than practitioners, for, practitioners of the nature of desire are characterised by their praxis: the voice of the analyst is the Act and not its anaesthesia, a quality equal to lazy sun-stroked donkeys.

 

What is a threshold- one that has ministered analysts as been the law of the practise, with them not been able to come across it, transversely, not because it was forbidden or marked by some sort of an extraordinary flowing heat like Pyriphlegethon, but, for the reason that the junction itself means originality and responsibility, more, even to know what one is talking about- what is it, if not the realm that is not an abode, and where the body is liquefied, and where the death drive, the myth of lamella becoming real, veiling the analysts’ somatic organs of jouissance, yet with the sense of bodily jouissance still at place but with no use, with its imprint around the organ than has been the confederate of lamella now assisting this Act∙ this is exactly the nature of a saint’s temptation, however a no-evil if not part of a religious discourse, befalling when the analyst crosses the footpath encountering a very powerful object as sweet as the acoustics of the Sirens’ song, a manacle of signifiers having no signified and dignity, though devouring motion and rhythm are moving the body: here is the threshold that is not a gate, where stands psychoanalysis’ own death drive- that what we may call excessive speech or excessive listening and it is excessive without the Act, an Act answering to the million said utterance: from where do I start Mr psychoanalyst: from the Act, my dear subject, you have already started- the question ought to be asked by your analyst: from the Act, which is not Alien to the speaking being but to the analyst∙ the Act is the deed of a creation that itself acts upon the Apeiron∙ it cannot be acatalectic.

On the Register of the Act.

The very element of the analytic Act is silence- that, a Being Silent and Eupnoea, which analysts disremember to honour their anamnesis, and whose anamorphosis alongside the act reserves the speaking being, the he-dummy who attempts to say that which cannot be said for the sake of the phallus∙ it is an ErgOn, the diacritical object of psychoanalysis and the inhabitation of the visceral beast, that animal who has the proneness, because of the phoneme, to become foolish towards biology, and from where the speaking being Acts, been no more a speaking being but an Ergon whose word is a praxis, because he has said so∙ the threshold, that which is not to be overpassed but crossed, maybe in the erudite style of the Argonauts who allowed the phallus to crush its tail, is that sanctioning or eliminating speech itself- the particular topography of the resisters remaining unexplored because, accurately, analysts do not act in the custom proper to an Acting Being∙ it is a step further than science and no close to a creed, a monarchy at the pathos of the act where the solution to the substance of how does the Subject supposed to Know deal with the humanity of the session∙ to that threshold one is to encounter the Ethic, not before crossing it.

 

 

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

By Petros Patounas.

The School of the Freudian Letter Publications.

The Apocalyptic Act- Part 8: On the Agoge of the Psychoanalyst.

For a mystic the uppermost invention of the Act is Apraxia; for an analyst it is the Apraxia of the word and the instigation of the Act. And, hence, a good representative of this operation could be the sister of deafness, not silence,  but paracusia, which is a good reason for analysts to waste a portion of their saliva: the logos is the encryptation of speech and the presence of the praxis,  akin to the process of an ErgOn opposing that name which is Apollyon, as the Ergon is a genesis without a god: one can use the confabulation, the signifier, dipped into the ink-sac of a cephalopodic creature when the subject, the barred subject, becomes a verb and the speaking Being’s speech manifests the oath devoted to the act; for that function one may use the phlogiston, because that Being who acts, its Word is no less than fire, an autographic litany sculpting its own lexis letter by letter; the praxis of a true lexicographer: and, if it is for a formation to be in the line of its humane ancestry, the analyst ought to speak to the echo of the civilization’s semblance- that is why they are in possession of a voice. And, this, voice, is to be heard all the way through the Agoge of the subject that familiarizes analysts towards the “Been the Words of Sparta:” Erg-On, an act which is visible yet it can only be heard; that is what may happen if the analyst passes the threshold functioning as a law, having in his pocket not the object but the ethic.  Yet that is the work of Avowal, a literal metalinguistic act where the craze of the flesh dressing the fetish, not being there for use, loses its skin and becomes a letter- casus generalis of a position that is the Apraxia of the feminine moving within its place, persistently, along the dystopian hopes of a time to become: and, nevertheless, it is no time but the Parabasis of the drama: for a subject of misery to bear the Real of a joke through a laughter.

 

 

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

By Petros Patounas.

The School of the Freudian Letter Publications.