Nature as Event

 Someone suggests that Deleuze is a romantic and I think that this is because they are accessing his ideas through spatial thought. He is not a wanderer above a sea of fog he is perhaps a paraglider in the fog landing on a field he hasn’t yet identified. But even this is a useless analogy if we maintain the critical distance of the observer inside a human command module, processing the sense data and verifying it with reason. The romantics sensed that this was a limited mode of understanding but somehow maintain it by opposing it so whole heartedly. When I’m wandering on a landscape such as Kinder Scout I might sometimes consult my map to get my bearings and experience that strange thrill of connecting my reasoned position with my immersed experience of being within in the primordial rock forms. The snow on the west side of these amorphous protrusions defines their shape in a sculptural manner I think. This is the first path where public access was established I think. The right of way because the earth belongs to no one. The shift we are seeking is to a temporal mode of thought. The rocks here are events rather than objects. This is more useful for establishing a right of way. My cat sees my denim clad legs as passing shapes and not symbols of my cat ownership. This is the intelligence the fascist in us all fears and so prefers the separation of the materialist and the romantic. A cat has more intelligence because she inhabits the plane of immanence. The body without organs, as a concept is an interrogation of the Renaissance anatomical model of the human that has codified our bodies into stasis. Ownership is maintained by spatial thinking. I own my ideas. I own my identity with the badge declaring my concern about deforestation. Are we afraid of our actual intelligence because the semiotic nihilism makes us feel more in control I wonder? The point, I feel is that actual meaning is beyond spatial thinking, which we, in our desperation to remain inside of, declare to be nothing, when actually the meaning is the thing itself – the thing we have declared hidden because reason is so impermeable. Let reason be the snow on the west side of the passing shapes I think.