My son, the alien and me

aien-dude.jpgThe work of reproduction is totally flexible, so much that it even become model for flexible capitalism. The work of reproduction is totally affective, so much that it become model for the affect-capitalism of sckizo-and-smily weitresses. In the work of reproduction with the ones we love, in which we reproduce the individual bodies of a community of affects, we give ourselves to the other, and the degree of which we don’t defines the boudnaries. My child has nightmares tonight, and I lay next to him. I quited him down with a song and now he seems finally asleep. I have done this already three times, and three times I though he was asleep, and three times I attempted to sneak up and reach my nearby laptop to write this damned blog. Then, even this fourth attempt failed as I hear him starting a mild cry. Suddently, the sensation came to me that there was only one solution, and indeed this was a sort of . . . revolution, but of another type than in the mythology of the left: I had to secede fron my linear time, and join his cyclical time, I had to give up my needs and embrace him, that is to say acknowledge him as a need. . .I laid down accepting that for that night I would have forgotten my work . . .he fell asleep straight away, and he slept until morning . . .

there is a major difference between the flexibility and “affectiveness” of the work of reproduction with, on one hand, the ones we love and on the other with the ones who purchase our services from our bosses. In the former, it is us, the “givers” and “doers” who posit how to give ourselves to the other, with what modulations, intensities, and boundaries. In the latter, it is an external measure, that of money and the rythms of the rat race that demand us to conform. This conformity is concretised in the modern precarious waged servant classes in restourants and supermarkets who are required to be seen as if they were giving themselves to others fully all the time. We do not have that pretense in our modes of production. In these we posit ourselves the when, the how, the how much we give to the other, however uncertain of our actions and reactions we are, however questionable or enlightening we might think the actions and reactions performed by others are. In our modes of production, our daily struggles — and relating to a child wanting to play when it is time to go is a struggle — are struggles among humans giving shape to their worlds and relations, learning or forgetting how to communicate. In capital’s loops, the human and capital are instead struggling daily for their survival. While in our modes of production all subjects are human, in capital’s loop one, strangely, is not: the alien apprehends the sensuous only in terms of money, efficiency ratios, and damned bottom lines. That is to say abstractions that do not love, hate, nor anything in between. But we do. In our modes of productions, we love and hate all the time, for us productions processes are sensuous processes. Now I wonder: it is known how capital’s loops have colonised and continually attempt to colonise our modes of production, that is by making us feel the anxious breath of its never satisfied measure which has increased debt, promoted fear of the other, intensified our dependance on to the market and the wage, is pushing homes to become “economic units” in need for “good management”. What it is not known, I think, is the answer to this question: what does it mean to colonise capital’s circuits with our modes of production? Which beg the question: what are our modes of production? Precisely, “by asking questions”, and situating them at any point of waged or unwaged struggle with capital, “we walk”.

Comments are closed.