Nancy, Deleuze, Zizek, Guattari, Agamben, Negri, Badiou, Rancière, Vattimo, Rorty, Habermas, and so many others: common for all these philosophers is a certain radicalism which constitutes their sensus communis [κοινὴ αἲσθησις, precisely]. They are radivorous in their political philosophy, feeding on the radix, wherein is instantiated yet other, more vigilant, modern and subtle, variants of political virographematics. Graphematics is multiplicity: infinite, and a creative force. It becomes viral and auto-immunitary only when its agents folds backwards, and lets the past present the future, when time is inversed. All radicalist variation of politics is thus destructive: it refuses and denegates the always supernumerous blossoming offerings from graphemathicity and strangely folds back to consume its own excremental remains. That is radicalism. And all the philosophers mentioned, usually praised for their “radical” stance on politics, and so many more in so many other fields of human agency, are in this bad habit of radicalism.
Irradicalism is thus what is called for. A melleistic politics: a politics whose principle of principles would be a future indefinitely futuring. A future that will never have been a present presence, and therefore beyond any of the all too common variations of the ontological modifications of presence. The secret of the ontological modification of presence is that it secures the mechanism whereby used and expelled is re-used and re-appropriated.
…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.