[t]ruly To Escape Hegel Involves An Exact

Chance Does Not Speak Essentially Through Words Nor Can It Be Seen In Their Convolution. It Is The Eruption Of Language, Its Sudden Appearance. It's Not A Night Twinkle With Stars, An Illuminated Sleep, Nor A Drowsy Vigil. It Is The Very Edge Of Consciousness.

Wars Are No Longer Waged In The Name Of A Sovereign Who Must Be Defended; They Are Waged On Behalf Of The Existence Of Everyone; Entire Populations Are Mobilized For The Purpose Of Wholesale Slaughter In The Name Of Life Necessity: Massacres Have Become Vital.

There Is No Power Relation Without The Correlative Constitution Of A Field Of Knowledge, Nor Any Knowledge That Does Not Presuppose And Constitute At The Same Time Power Relations

But Let There Be No Misunderstanding: It Is Not That A Real Man, The Object Of Knowledge, Philosophical Reflection Or Technological Intervention, Has Been Substituted For The Soul, The Illusion Of Theologians. The Man Described For Us, Whom We Are Invited To Free, Is Already In Himself The Effect Of A Subjection More Profound Than Himself. A 'soul' Inhabits Him And Brings Him To Existence, Which Is Itself A Factor In The Mastery That Power Exercises Over The Body. The Soul Is The Effect And Instrument Of A Political Anatomy; The Soul Is The Prison Of The Body.

Confined On The Ship, From Which There Is No Escape, The Madman Is Delivered To The River With Its Thousand Arms, The Sea With Its Thousand Roads, To That Great Uncertainty External To Everything. He Is A Prisoner In The Midst Of What Is The Freest, The Openest Of Routes: Bound Fast At The Infinite Crossroads. He Is The Passenger Par Excellence: That Is, The Prisoner Of The Passage. And The Land He Will Come To Is Unknown—as Is, Once He Disembarks, The Land From Which He Comes. He Has His Truth And His Homeland Only In That Fruitless Expanse Between Two Countries That Cannot Belong To Him.