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Control and becoming: a conversation between Tony Negri and Gilles Deleuze

“Is there then, some way for the resistance of the oppressed to become effective, and for what’s intolerable to be definitively removed? Is there some way for the mass of singularities and atoms that we all are to come forward as a constitutive power, or must we rather accept the juridical paradox that con­stitutive power can be defined only by constituted power?”

This and many other ideas discussed in translation by Tony Negri and Gilles Deleuze.

Micro fiction is the future

Fictionaut interviews Ramon Collins, cartoonist and writer: “I honestly believe Micro & Flash stories are online fiction’s future. It’s the way people read. The phenomenon has something to do with the TV-20-second attention span and the decline of reading comprehension.”

@MayorEmanuel’s awesome twitter narrative

The final hours of @MayorEmanuel. Winning an election, feeding Quaxelrod bread crumbs, double fisting beers, crowd surfing to the stage for a victory speech, contending with the sucking vortex of an alternate universe … all in a hard day’s work.

“The security official and his supervisor were human beings who obviously wished they could behave decently, but they were powerless: stymied by a rulebook.” Richard Dawkins writes about rulebooks and their brittle disposition towards failure.

Quick Fiction

‘Robert Kennedy smelled the water from the pool in his hair and the fresh sardines. “Son of a bitch. The whole world’s a son of a bitch,” he said. He sprinted towards the pool and cannonballed in. Sandy barked wildly.’

Bobby Kennedy and his Sea Lion Sandy at QuickFiction.org. Five more excellent Quick Fiction stories can be found here.

In search of an African Revolution

Azad Essa’s thoughts on protests still underway in Africa and the Middle East. “Must a revolt be filmed and photographed to succeed?” … “Ignoring the developments in Africa is to miss the half the story.”

AsidesExcerpts

Tossing Figs

The Tree

The gardener dangled his feet over the edge of the stone wall while Isabella pondered her next move. An old wooden chessboard sat on the tower wall between them. Isabella had her legs crossed and held her chin cupped in her right hand. She took her time, like she always did, placing the greatest concern on each move, and when she scrunched her eyebrows down to focus, like she was doing now, she was impervious to any distraction.

Knowing this, the old gardener was content to watch the orange sun set behind the hills as it deepened in color. The quality of his focus was different than the girl’s. His was more relaxed, appearing to a stranger almost languid. But he saw farther into the game than Isabella did. After all, she had only been playing chess for the last century or so. He had been playing since he Arrived. —read on »

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“Make no little plans; they have no magic to stir men’s blood.”

Daniel Hudson Burnham (1846-1912)

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