Heidegger wrote, for instance, that the world worlds (die Welt weltet), time times (die Zeit zeitet), language speaks (die Sprache spricht), or that the nothing nothings (das Nichts nichtet). But he would never write that the future futures (die Zukunft zukunftet).
Our conception of causality: is it not fundamentally founded upon a trope of an a tergo? There are, of course, conceptualizations suggesting ‘reversible time.’ Nonetheless, it is critical to ask for its motivation and actual import. Are, then, not these re-current notions in modern physics rather a gesture so as to expand the hold of past upon present and future? The billiard ball that gets hit by another ball: is it all past powers that act? How could it be? How could we be sure? Should we not rather try and allow ourselves, for once, for the sake of argument, be disturbed by the possibility that there is a certain futuricity that at all allows what we call causality?
Science abhors the law of general iterability, pretending that somehow it is enabled to keep general iterability at bay, pretending that it is constituted by some form of special iterability. Such presuppositions, common as they are, are none the less false. Already during the first half of the 20. century, however, we saw a dawning recognition of what here is referred to as the law of general iterability. Edmund Husserl was probably the first to catch a glimpse of this law that, de jure and de facto, is the very sine qua non of science and scientificity in general. Jacques Derrida’s scrupulous reading of Husserl during the 50s, 60s, and 70s, still articulates, by far, most comprehensive attempt at outlining the imports and implications of the law of general iterability.
Tympanize — philosophy, Derrida wrote. Tympanize — science too, I’d say.
…There is nothing but writing, in a certain sense, but writing uses a space a blank space, an ignorant biblion, bibliophoros, what carries letters; it has to space in order to be in the writing of its writing. The blank space is also the fortress buttressing, then by spacing writing all it can, against the Nothing that Derreath traces in Husserl but that just as well might be directly related to writing written here as Iou have wrote.
There are at least six things to remember, when reading and writing, experiencing: first the almost immediate Nothing in the very banal concreteness of the blank, the spacing, and the grammas; second the Nothing that the writer faces faced toward the paper and screen; third the Nothing between the intended writer and the intended reader; fourth the Nothing the reader faces looking into those spaced grammas; fifth the Nothing that ships texts out with no possible addressee; and sixth that Nothing that says that total death and absence is the very condition of possibility of there being decipherable texts.