The Heat Was On
"It can be read as an extended reflection on the conundrum of how it is possible to conceal something from ourselves, how a single entity can be simultaneously the one who is hiding something and the one whom the thing is hidden. This can only happen because the unity and transparency which we ordinarily ascribe to our minds are illusory. Gaps and inconsistencies are constitutive of what we are. What covers these lacunae are stories - which therefore possess their own agency. Memory is already a story, and when there are gas in memory, new stories must be confabulated to fill in the holes. But who is the author of these stories? The answer is that there is not so much an author as confabulatory process without any "one" behind it. This process isn't a pathological deviation from the norm, but the way in which identity ordinarily functions. However this functioning is usually obscured, and comes only into view when something goes wrong - when the stories fail, and the question about the machinery that produces them becomes unavoidable"
M. F.
ENERGY BILLED (AMOR FATI EDIT)
