Chaosophy - autonomous learning

is literature's counterfeit currency, or, what amounts to the same
thing, its real exchange value. But, just when these writers appear to
be up to their teeth in Oedipus, in the eternal mommy-wail, the
eternal daddy-debate, in actual fact they are embarked upon a completely
different venture, an orphan undertaking; they are
assembling an infernal desiring-machine, putting desire in contact
with a libidinal world of connections and breaks, flows and schizes
that constitute the nonhuman element of sex, a world where each
thing becomes a component of "the motor, desire," of a "lubric
wheelwork," crossing, mixing, overturning structures and ordersmineral,
vegetable, animal, juvenile, social-each time shattering
the ridiculous figures of Oedipus, always pushing forward a process
of deterritorialization. For not even childhood is Oedipal; as a
matter of fact, it does not have the least possibility of being Oedipal.
What is Oedipal is the abject childhood memory, the screen
memory. And finally, an author most effectively reveals the inanity
and the vacuity of Oedipus when he manages to inject into his
work veritable recurrent blocks of childhood which again start up
the desiring-machines, as opposed to old photos, to screen memories
which flood the machine and turn the child into a regressive phantasy
for little old people.
This can be seen clearly in the case of Kafka, a privileged example,
the Oedipal terrain par excellence. The Oedipal pole that he
(Kafka) waves and brandishes under the reader's nose masks a more
subterranean undertaking: the nonhuman establishment of a totally
new literary machine. Strictly speaking, it is a machine for literary
practice and for de-Oedipalizing all too-human love. Kafka's
machine plugs desire into the premonition of a perverse bureaucratic
and technocratic machine, a machine that is already fascist, in
which the names of the family lose their consistency in order to
open onto the motley Austrian Empire of the machine-castle,
onto the condition of Jews without identity, onto Russia, America,
100/