Cinema as a Democratic Emblem¹
by Alain Badiou

Philosophy only exists insofar as there are paradoxical relations, relations which fail to connect, or should not connect.  When every connection is naturally legitimate, philosophy is impossible or in vain.

Philosophy is the violence done by thought to impossible relations.

Today, which is to say "after Deleuze," there isa clear requisitioning of philosophy by cinema-- or of cinema by philosophy.  It is therefore certain that cinema offers us paradoxical relations, entirely improbable connections.

Which ones?

The preformed philosophical response comes down to saying that cinema is an untenable relation between total artifice and total reality.  Cinema simultaneously offers the possibility of a copy of reality and the entirely artificial dimension of this copy.  With contemporary technologies, cinema is capable of producing the real artifice of the copy of a false copy of the real, or again, the false real copy of a false real. And other variations.  This amounts to saying that cinema has become the immediate form (or "technique") of an ancient paradox, that of the relations between being and appearance (which are far more fundamental than the relations everywhere exhibited between the virtual and the actual).  We can thus proclaim cinema to be an ontological art. Many critics, André Bazin in particular, have been saying this for a long time.

I would like to enter into the question in an infinitely simpler and more empirical manner, removed from all philosophical preformation, starting with the elucidation of a statement: cinema is a "mass art."

The syntagm "mass art" can be given an elementary definition: an art is a "mass art" if the masterpieces, the artistic productions that the erudite (or dominant, whatever) culture declares incontestable, are seen and liked by millions of people from all social groups at the very moment of their creation.

Adding "at the very moment of their creation" is especially important, because we know that we are dominated by a melancholy historicism, which creates a pure effect of pastness.  Millions of people, regardless of their social background (apart of course from the base proletariat) are able to go to museums, because they like the icons of the past as treasures, for the modern passion for tourism extends to a kind of tourism of treasures（忧郁的历史主义，制造纯粹的过去之效果，走进美术馆与组团旅游是同一回事儿了（阿甘本：对过去也抱一种色情的窥视））.  It is not of this kind of tourism that I am speaking, but of the millions of people who love an exceptional work at the very moment of its appearance.  Yet we have, in the short history of cinema, incontestable examples of such love, examples that can only be compared to the public triumph of the great Greek tragedies.  Take, for example, the great films of Chaplin.  They have been seen throughout the world, even in the homes of Eskimos, or projected on tents in the desert.  Everybody immediately understood that these films spoke in the profound and decisive way that I have proposed to call (when writing on Beckett's prose) "generic humanity," or humanity subtracted from its differences.  The character of the Tramp, perfectly placed, filmed in a close frontal manner, in a familiar context, is no less a representative of generic "popular" humanity for an African than for a Japanese or for an Eskimo.

It would be wrong to believe this kind of example is limited to the comic or burlesque genre, which has always been able to reflect the vital energy of the people, the strength and cunning of social survival.  We could as easily cite an extraordinarily concentrated film of staggering formal invention, doubtless one of the greatest existing cinematic poems: Murnau's Sunrise.  This pure masterpiece was a phenomenal success in the United States, a sort of Titanic, without the industrial flavour.

Cinema is without a doubt capable of being a mass art on a scale which suffers no comparison with any other art.  Certainly in the nineteenth century there were mass writers, mass poets: Victor Hugo in France, for example, or Pushkin in Russia.  They had, and still have, millions of readers.  However, the scale -- at the moment of their creation -- is incomparable to that of the great success of cinema.

The point is thus the following: "mass art" fixes a paradoxical relation.  Why?  Because "mass" is a political category, or more precisely a category of activist democracy, of communism.  The Russian revolutionaries were able to define their actions in terms of a time when "the masses climbed onto the stage of History."  We usually oppose "mass democracy" to representative and constitutional democracy.  "Mass" is an essential political category.  （（M）ao) said that "the masses, the masses alone, are creators of universal history."

However, "art", which is the other half of the syntagm "mass art," is and can only be an aristocratic category.

To say that "art" is an aristocratic category is not a judgement.  We simply note that "art" comprises the idea of formal creation, of visible novelty in the history of forms, and therefore requires the means of comprehending creation as such, necessitating a differential education, a minimal proximity to the history of the art concerned and to the vicissitudes of its grammar.  A long and often unrewarding apprenticeship.  Broadening of the mind.  Pleasures, certainly, but pleasures which are sophisticated, constructed, acquired.

In "mass art" we have the paradoxical relation between a pure democratic element (on the side of irruption and evental energy) and an aristocratic element (on the side of individual education, of differential locations of taste).

All the arts of the twentieth century have been avant-garde.  Painting was an avant-garde art and only ceases to be so at that crepuscular moment when it is introduced into museums.  Music was an avant-garde art, and, from the days of Schöenberg, has not ceased to be so (unless we also call "music" the groaning of popular music).  Poetry exists today only as an avant-garde art.  We can say that the twentieth century is the century of avant-gardes.  But we can also say that it is the century of the greatest mass art that has ever existed.

The simple form of the paradoxical relation: the first great art which is mass in its essence appears and develops in a time which is the time of the avant-gardes.  The derived form: cinema imposes impracticable relations between aristocracy and democracy, between invention and familiarity, between novelty and general taste.

It is for this reason that philosophy takes an interest in cinema.  Because it imposes a vast and obscure complex of paradoxical relations.  "To think cinema" comes down to forcing the relation, to arranging the concepts which, under the constraint of real films, shift the established rules of the connection.

I believe, however, that there have been five major attempts at such a displacement.  Or rather, five different ways of entering into the problem: "to think cinema as mass art." Firstly, from the paradox of the image.  This is the classic entry which I mentioned at the beginning: the ontological art.  The second traces the paradox of time, of the filmic visibility of time.  The third examines the difference of cinema, its strange connection to the established system of the fine arts.  To put it another way: the paradox of the seventh art.  The fourth establishes cinema at the border of art and non-art, its paradox being that of artistic impurity.  The fifth proposes an ethical paradox: cinema as reservoir of figures of conscience, as popular phenomenology of every situation wherein we must choose.

1- 我们时代的生产过程碎化，我们的工作并不终结于一个完成的产品（只有少数手工匠有这个幸遇了），连艺术家很多也都是没有作品（只有未完成的文本/作品只是关于那个立意要做的作品的作品的示例）的艺术家了。我们的工作经常是像独奏家那样，是在表演了：当着众人的面，与众人连成一体地来工作和行动，没有成品的了。

 2-这不就是我们在微博里的行动模态吗？我们不光光是在其中写，我们像在海里让大浪从众多的身体刷到自己身上，我们是跟着众人的反应在反应，我们说出的话和写出的话，都与在纸面上不一样：我们在说的时候，好像百分六七十是不需要我们费劲说出来的，我们只要拿一个话头在里面一涮，味道就整个弥漫，众人就全都明白全意，如卢曼对于大众媒体的描述：它是盲目的，但它总是“使该知道的人都知道”。

在微博这样的空间里，阅读、发言和写作越来越煲在一起了！网上写作者是一个行为艺术家了！他是一个独奏家：诸众才是他的曲谱，而不是他在编织的那一张文本！

3-这样，作者与观众之间的分水岭更暧昧了！独奏家是要通过一个月的孤独的排练来积储热情，在一个半小时内倾注到观众身上，最后，他面对的曲谱与演奏现场的观众 的集体身体终于融为一体。他没有作品，或者说他的作品是像电波那样激荡在诸众的身体上的。微博上的发言也是如此。

4-所以，网上发言者是一个没有作品的艺术家，是行为艺术家，其实是一个活动分子，是运动和队伍里的煽动者。他展现的是独奏家的才能：将其余人的身体或者说诸众的身体当曲谱、当键盘、当作品的媒材，而这正是一个政治活动分子的本色。每个人都成为这样的独奏家，同时成为听众和行为艺术家，这就是未来政治 。

作为一个政治活动分子，网上发言者是企图动员大规模的智性（整个后福特式劳动力），来发挥关于可能性的艺术(政治)，去与不可预见的东西打交道（也是政治！），并从所有将要到来的机会中获得得好处（也是政治！）。生产、劳动、行动重新与政治连接，将国家甩到一边--正这如这两天政治局成了笑柄。

\网上写作者作为一个没有作品的艺术家，作为行为艺术家，他其实是一个活动分子了，是运动和队伍里的煽动者。他作为独奏家的这种才能，他的将其余的人的身体或者说诸众的身体当曲谱、当键盘、当作品的媒材，正是一个政治活动分子的本色。

作为一个政治活动分子，网上写作者是企图动员大规模的智性（整个后福特式的劳动力）来发挥那种关于可能性的艺术(政治)，去与那些不可预见的东西打交道（也是政治！），从所有前来的机会中获得得好处（也是政治！）。

1-制造钢琴的工人是生产者，而钢琴演奏家不是，尽管没有钢琴演奏家的钢琴是荒唐的？但情况确实如此。制造钢琴的工人创造了资本，钢琴演奏家只是用他的劳动换回了收入。但，难道生产了音乐，满足了我们想听音乐的耳朵的钢琴演奏家，并没有在某种程度上生产出了后者（爱听音乐的耳朵）？他的确生产出了某种东西，但他并没有在经济的意义上使它成为一种生产性劳动，正如疯子的劳动并没有使他的狂想变成生产性。劳动只有生产出了它自身的对立面时，才变得有生产性。其他的经济学家因此允许所谓的非生产性工人间接地具有生产性。比方说，钢琴演奏家刺激了生产，部分地是通过给我们的个人性带来一种更决定性、更生动的调子，也像平常讲的那样唤醒了一种对于满足的新需要，其中的额外的能量就被花费到了直接的物质生产中。这已经承认了只有这样的劳动（直接的物质生产劳动）才具有生产性，才成为资本，因此，不能这样做的劳动，不论它多么有用，也不论它多么带来伤害，对于资本化而言，都不具生产性，因此不是生产性的劳动。其他的经济学家又说，生产性与非生产的区另并不适用于消费。恰恰相反！生产香烟的工人是生产性的，而消费香烟的人却是非生产性的。为非生产的消费进行生产，是与为生产性的消费而进行的生产一样具有生产性的，这种生产总是为生产出或再生产出资本为已任，马尔塞斯说，“生产性劳动者是那些直接给他们的主人带来财富增长的人”，他说得很对。至少在一个方面很对。他的说法太抽象，因为在他的说法里，奴隶也可以算在里面了。主人的财富在与工人相关时，成为财富本身与劳动也就是资本的关系的形式 。生产性劳动者是直接增加资本的人（马克思《政治经济学批判大纲》附注）。

2-这是一个当今经常被挖出来讲的著名话题。尤其在内格里和哈特讨论了人类普遍智性与非物质生产之后。这个话题也经常在讨论艺术家的生产（马克思认为这个说法不成立！）与民工的生产的关系时被提及。下面来讨论（行为/表演）艺术家的劳动作为钢琴演奏家式的劳动的“生产性”。

3-生产性，在马克思看来就是可以成为进一步生产所需的资本的意思。艺术家的劳动并不能直接成为资本，那它是如何间接具有生产性，因而成为资本的呢？

马克思认为艺术家的劳动不具有生产性，也不能间接具有生产性，但我们看到它实际上有了生产性，成了资本，这是怎么一回事呢？很简单，中间发生了调包、欺骗和重新居有（re-appropriation）。用了什么方法？波多莱尔认为是用了伪币。人民在苦难中，向知识分子和艺术家求助，艺术家和小说家就施舍给穷人一些伪币，也就是艺术品，通过一个子虚无乌有的叙述者、一个没有担保的题目，而这些伪币后来还真的流通了，它就是“现代文学”或“现代艺术”。

伪币是怎么起作用，成了真币的呢？

德里达在分析波多莱尔的《伪币》时指出，后者相信中间发生了爱伦坡小说《被偷换的信》中描述的情况：将伪币放到大家都认为是黄金储备的地方，用伪币去偷换掉那一切价值的担保。比方说，现代艺术家所追求的那种内心的不朽，那些永恒的价值，被附会到张晓刚或齐白石的画里，于是就通过收藏家的趣味和金融储备，通过拍卖会，而去“偷换”掉了民工们用血汗创造的财富，艺术品只是这中间使用的道具而已。艺术品就是这样一封用来调包和偷换的信，它里面是空的，它只是伪产品！

4-维尔诺最近在说，在我们这个终结时代里，在诸众越来越显形的时代里，真正的“劳动者”越来越少，每一个人几乎都是一个表演艺术家，连制造钢琴的工人也越来越像是钢琴演奏家了----我们上网不就像个钢琴大师那样“劳动”着了么？我们的曲谱是“普遍智性”。劳动和资本在这种情况下出了啥情况呢？谁在真正生产出资本呢？钢琴演奏家到那里去捉来一些为他生产出资本，好让他来偷取他们的劳动的钢琴制造工人呢？

哪里还有艺术家需要的民工？

如果没有了民工，艺术家们怎么办？

1-莫斯认为，一个献出的东西的价值，在被回报时，是会多出来，有增补的。不仅是这个被献出的物或作品自身的品质决定了回报的价值，而是背景里那一张巨大的契约-伦理之网，更保证了返还的价值会远超付出的价值。而法国结构主义者比如列维-斯特劳斯则将这种“增补出来的象征内容”，归结于物在文化中继承了某种神秘-神话式力量，是因为物之中带有hau,wakan, d'orenda, mana这样的品质。而这些文化价值，列维-斯特劳斯认为，是被语言同化，也就是说，是像词语那样被搭配和组装的。而拉康认为，无意识是被语言所结构。

这个分岐划开了结构主义和后结构主义。德里达站在了莫斯一边。

2-本维尼斯特《印-欧词汇中的匮赠与交换》一文中提出这样一个问题：问“取”来自“给”，还是“给”来自“取”，是无谓的。这个问题先就问错了。

为什么问错了？直观地讲，他认为，取和给，不是在语义上确定，而是在句法上来确立的。在英语中，to take something from somebody, to take something to somebody这两者的意思可以相反。本维尼斯特暗示，这样在句法上才定夺，使才我们使给或取这一人类的根本行为保持一种“语义上的暧昧（两岐）”，类似的就还有“买”和“卖”之间（《印》，318）。而现代货币把这一行为僵化掉了。而正是货币经济才使艺术品有了价格。而正是艺术品似乎是被商业-市场价格关进抽屉了，所以才需要展示。

3-德里达讨论匮赠，关注的是这么政治哲学问题：全球伦理将建立在什么之上？哈贝马斯是回答：建立在人类的交往化理上。德里达是认为人在还没有语言的部落时代，就有这种potlatch的冲动，这种最原始的半宗教、半伦理的冲动，会确保人类的未来政治是一种好客政治：来客和东家互换位置，比谁给出的多；西方为了不丢面子，应该学会更慷慨地匮赠。

1-照言语理论（speach act theory），幸存（surivre）就是sur vivre, autrement sur vivre。这样，幸存就应该是我们对生存的引用。当我们说幸存时，我们是将它放在引号里来说的，“幸存”，“幸”“存”， “幸”存，幸“存”。它暗示在这样说它时，还有比人的生存更多和更好的存在。

我们怎么来写幸存？如果我们能够来写生存，我们必须先死过，或必须是还有待幸存，才写得出来？轮得到我们这样来选择的吗（德里达，《邻居》，121）？我们没资格来说幸存，我们说幸存，是在虚构。文学就是我们一边幸存，一边试图来说它？

2-大家都爱读新闻了，不爱读文学了。大家不相信叙述了。我们还幸存着，或还能幸存，托了全球资本的福。猪肉价格不再往上升了，房价可控，民工讨回了他们的工资，于是，我们还将幸存：这就是我们的新闻。

文学？它看上去越来越是“对解构的解构之故事”了。一个虚构的三重门或罗生门能确保一个长相漂亮的作者的权利？其作品是神圣的完整领土，未经枪手勾兑？作者的民事法人专名可以顶着受争议的文本而成为“真正的”作者？领稿费的作者强占叙述者的位置、汉语的集体表达位置，涉嫌侵占？

这些问题就是法国作家布朗肖经常提起的“文学的权利”所涉及的方方和面面。

文学的权利？是的，德里达说应该理解成：每一个人对文学的权利。

作家是一个不可能的主体位置：他企图在每一个说着母语的个人对文学的权利之上，来建立他的独裁。而每一个人都有他的对文学的权利。

3-幸存就是以引用的态度去述说“活着”，一边活着一边去述说活着。这是幸存，也就是文学，每一个人最后都剩下这一权利，在所有国家诳说要授予他的权利都烟灭之后。它叫做文学的权利。在《逗留》中讨论布朗肖这一概念时，德里达将它扩大到人的民族国家的公民权之外的权利，使它成为母语对于每一个流落的全球个人的最后照拂：他什么都没有了，但仍有对文学的权利，因为他会说母语。对文学的权利是我们全球亡灵身背的最后主权。我们可以用对文学的权利单独成立一个全球文学共和国，德里达说。

（对文学的权利高于我们对艺术的权利？）

对文学的权利，这一说法向我们呼吁：不是作家送文学给我们，而是我们自己去文学的，“文学”是动词；我们的文学能力，是我们天生带来的汉语能力/资质的一部分，不可剥夺。

4-幸存：不再活着，或当前没活着，硬挺着，没了生命，落进一种纯粹的增补状态中，进入向生命的增补式运动，但阻挡住了死亡，是一种并不停下来的叫停，反过来使它持续。变着法子来让言语停下来（在不稳定的边结之前）。仿佛它帮助死亡衰竭，仿佛夜来得太早，天还很亮它就来了，结果老是黑不了，可能真的要黑不了啦（布朗肖，《走出一步》，1973年）。

5-海德格尔在《艺术品的本源》里这样说物的存在：物没有发生，就存在在那里，那只是幸存；人还没有命运，但就在那里混了，那也只是幸存。过程的尽头，也没什么发生，被免刑，还清了债，但总好像仍有东西没发生。

人为什么要叙述，想要去文学，想要有个命运？因为他想幸存。作为叙述的幸存，是一种幽灵式的回返；幸存者总只是一个幻影，总在述说医生对他的判决（《邻居》，196）。幸存：试图与母亲告别，然后再与母语告别。

Waiting for the Unexpected

Work, Action, Intellect: following the line of a tradition that goes back to Aristotle and that was still "common sense" for the generation that arrived in politics in the 1960s, Hannah Arendt sought to separate these three spheres of human experience and show their mutual incommensurability. Albeit adjacent and sometimes overlapping, the three different realms are essentially unrelated. In fact, they exclude themselves by turns: while one is making politics, one is not producing, nor is one involved in intellectual contemplation; when one works, one is not acting politically and exposing oneself to the presence of others, nor is one participating in the "life of the mind"; and anyone who is dedicated to pure reflection withdraws temporarily from the work of appearances, and thus neither acts nor produces. "To each his own" seems to be the message of Arendt's The Human Condition, and every man for himself. Although she argues passionately for the specific value of political Action, fighting against its entrapment in mass society, Arendt maintains that the other two fundamental spheres, Work and Intellect, remain unchanged in their qualitative structures. Certainly, Work has been extended enormously, and certainly, Thought seems feeble and paralyzed; however, the former is still nonetheless an organic exchange with nature, a social metabolism, a production of new objects, and the latter is still a solitary activity, by its nature extraneous to the cares of common affairs.

As must be obvious by now, however, what I am arguing here is radically opposed to the conceptual schema proposed by Arendt and the tradition by which it is inspired. Allow me to recapitulate briefly. The decline of political Action arises from the qualitative changes that have taken place both in the sphere of Work and in the sphere of Intellect, given that a strict intimacy has been established between them. Conjoined to Work, Intellect (as an aptitude or "faculty," not as a repertory of special understandings) becomes public, appearing, worldly. In other words, what comes to the fore is its nature as a shared resource and a common good. By the same token, when the potentiality of general intellect comes to be the principal pillar of social production, so Work assumes the aspect of an activity without a finished work, becoming similar in every respect to those virtiiosic performances that are based on a relationship with a "presence of others." But is not virtuosity the characteristic trait of political action? One has to conclude, therefore, that post-Fordist production has absorbed within itself the typical modalities of Action and, precisely by so doing, has decreed its eclipse. Naturally, this metamorphosis has nothing liberatory about it: within the realm of'waged labor, the virtuosic relationship with the "presence of others" translates into personal dependence; the "activity-without-finished-work," which nonetheless is strongly reminiscent from close up of political praxis, is reduced to an extremely modern servitude.

Earlier in this essay, then, I proposed that political Action finds its redemption at the point where it creates a coalition with public Intellect (in other words, at the point where this Intellect is unchained from waged labor and, rather, builds its critique with the tact of a corrosive acid). Action consists, in the final analysis, in the articulation of general intellect as a non-State public sphere, as the realm of common affairs, as Republic. The Exodus, in the course of which the new alliance between Intellect and Action is forged, has a number of fixed stars in its own heaven: radical Disobedience, Intemperance, Multitude, Soviet, Example, Right of Resistance. These categories allude to a political theory of the future, a theory perhaps capable of racing up to the political crises of the late twentieth century and outlining a solution that is radically anti-Hobbesian.

Political Action, in Arendt's opinion, is a new beginning that interrupts and contradicts automatic processes that have become consolidated into fact. Action has, thus, something of the miracle, given that it shares the miracle's quality of being surprising and unexpected.19 Now, in conclusion, it might be worth asking whether, even though the theory of Exodus is for the most part irreconcilable with Arendt, there might be some usefulness in her notion of Miracle.

Here, of course, we are dealing with a recurrent theme in great political thinking, particularly in reactionary thought. For Hobbes, it is the role of the sovereign to decide what events merit the rank of miracles, or transcend ordinary law. Conversely, miracles cease as soon as the sovereign forbids them.20 Schmitt takes a similar position, inasmuch as he identifies the core of power as being the ability to proclaim states of exception and suspend constitutional order: "The exception in jurisprudence is analogous to the miracle in theology."21 On the other hand, Spinoza's democratic radicalism confutes the theological-political value of the miraculous exception. There is, however, an ambivalent aspect in his argumentation. In fact, according to Spinoza, a miracle, unlike the universal laws of nature that are identified with God, expresses only a "limited power"; in other words, it is something specifically human. Instead of consolidating faith, it makes us "doubt God and everything," thus creating a predisposition to atheism.22 But are not these very elements--a solely human power, a radical doubt regarding constituted power, and political atheism--some of the characteristics that define the anti-State Action of the Multitude? In general, the fact that in both Hobbes and Schmitt the miracle is the preserve of the sovereign in no sense runs counter to the connection between Action and Miracle; rather, in a sense, it confirms it. For these authors, it is only the sovereign who acts politically. The point is therefore not to deny the importance of the state of exception in the name of a critique of sovereignty, but rather to understand what form it might assume once political Action passes into the hands of the Many（责问得好！）. Insurrections, desertions, invention of new organisms of democracy, applications of the principle of the tertium datur: herein lie the Miracles of the Multitude, and these miracles do not cease when the sovereign forbids them.

Unlike what we have in Arendt, however, the miraculous exception is not an ineffable "event," with no roots, and entirely imponderable. Because it is contained within the magnetic field defined by the mutually changing interrelations of Action, Work, and Intellect, the Miracle is rather something that is awaited but unexpected. As happens in every oxymoron, the two terms are in mutual tension, but inseparable. If what was in question was only the salvation offered by an "unexpected," or only a long-term "waiting," then we could be dealing, respectively, with the most insignificant notion of causality or the most banal calculation of the relationship between means and ends. Rather, it is an exception that is especially surprising to the one who was awaiting it. It is an anomaly so potent that it completely disorients our conceptual compass, which, however, had precisely signaled the place of its insurgence. We have here a discrepancy between cause and effect, in which one can always grasp the cause, but the innovative effect is never lessened. Finally, it is precisely the explicit reference to an unexpected waiting, or the exhibition of a necessary incompleteness, that constitutes the point of honor of every political theory that disdains the benevolence of the sovereign（这也是对至今为止的全部政治哲学议程的责难！难道我们就为了政治哲学没给我们出一个可接受未来，而继续傻等着吗？）。

1-Brian Holmes在"走向新的体制批判"中提到：一种新的转移论：艺术需要和必须转移到它之外的领地，到外在于它的那个领域或田野去工作。而在此同时又要强调它的反思性，批判和自我批判式地回到它自己的出发点，以期改造它的初始原则，结束它自己的孤独，打开新的表达、分析、合作和介入的可能性.。 

2-Andrea Fraser从Bochloh的《1962年-1967年的概念艺术》中得到启发，认为体制批判从内到外，又从外到内地来了一圈，最后我们才发现：我们才是体制！这个“我们”就是批判者自己。批判是一个体制？体制批判最后堕落为批判的体制？Fraser的结论是让我们很麻烦的：艺术圈如果就是它外面的世界，口袋内外没有分别，体制批判就是马克思说的政治经济学批判？我们要不要“场”和“界”这样的概念？

在体制批判严重借用的布迪厄的对艺术的反思社会学式的批判中，“场”和“界”不是被取消，而是在我们的批判中使其幻灭，或主动解放它。这是我自己在走的路：布迪厄说的批判作为一种实践的无限的反思性，并不是无限循环的，而是解放一步，反思一步，剥光，兜底翻出，没有了，你们看，这不是为了使众人为难，而是逼他们自己选择平等，走向解放。但要艺术家放弃他们的角色、地位、理想和他们的训练中培养起来的dispositio（行业情性）,和 illusio（死活要懒住的那些职业幻觉），要给艺术家平等，把平等当礼物来接收，太难了，甚至不可能（我认为艺术家身上最大的恶，就是他们太相信自己手里的线条色彩和形式的魔术，拒绝平等）。所以，我同情Fraser的说法，认为可以再说得深入一点：批判到后来，批判者自己所凝结成的那个体制，是最难攻破，最反动，最挫败我们自己的，哪怕下一步就是平等和解放了，同志们也是不肯放弃自己的“内心”之坚守的。在我看来，这种内心坚守是最顽固、毒性最大的，它的可恶与可笑，以陈丹青和徐冰这样的艺术家为代表。

这样的批判之外的艺术家位置的不可能，大家可以去读读卡夫卡的走钢丝艺术家、饥饿艺术家和吹长笛的艺术家约色芬们的故事，可从中得到这样的领悟：那些位置是凡俗时间里的追求目标，弥赛亚时代时代里，它们都漏气了，都像中国红十字会的那些伟大崇高目标那样可笑了，他们这些主体都将被捞起，归到大队伍中来。

3-Hito Steyerl在《批判的体制》里归纳了既有的三种体制批判方向：第一种是通过批判来使体制内更和谐和融合，第二种是后冷战时代我们对西方霸权的批判，批判了，代表性就好一些广一些细一些，中国艺术家也能在威尼斯和Moma被代表得较为政治正确了。第三种呢？S认为，一方面，批判体制正被新自由主义式批判体制解散和取代，使批判主体越来越脆弱，越来越面对冷清和孤寂，但这同时也促使脆弱的批判主体拿出多重的批判、斗争策略系列，去创造出新的体制，来迎合新的批判的欲望和需要。也就是说，新的批判体制会应时之需，重新集结。

4-体制批判这一眼光的最大拢合，是朗西埃在《观众的解放》中的论述：艺术批评在今天只能是政治批判，而批判已不可能，所以，必须回到这一原点上：艺术家是无知的老师，必须凭自己的无知武器，当场去解放观众，用防守平等之底线，来处处击破这个时时想制造不平等的体制，这个，这个场。

http://www.16beavergroup.org/mtarchive/archives/000941.php

Multitude, General Intellect, Republic

The decisive political counterposition is what opposes the Multitude to the People. The concept of "people" in Hobbes (but also in a large part of the democratic-socialist tradition) is tightly correlated to the existence of the State and is in fact a reverberation of it: "The People is somewhat that is one, having one will, and to whom one action may be attributed; none of these can properly be said of a Multitude. The People rules in all Governments," and reciprocally, "the King is the People."13 The progressivist notion of "popular sovereignty" has as its bitter counterpoint an identification of the people with the sovereign, or, if you prefer, the popularity of the king. The multitude, on the other hand, shuns political unity, is recalcitrant to obedience, never achieves the status of juridical personage, and is thus unable to make promises, to make pacts, or to acquire and transfer rights. It is anti-State, but, precisely for this reason, it is also antipopular: the citizens, when they rebel against the State, are "the Multitude against the People."14 For the seventeenth-century apologists for sovereign power, "multitude" was a purely negative defining concept: a regurgitation of the state of nature within civil society, a continuing but somewhat unformed leftover, a metaphor of possible crisis. Liberal thinking, then, tamed the unrest provoked by the "many" through the dichotomy between public and private: the Multitude is "private" both in the literal sense of the term, being deprived of both face and voice, and in the juridical sense of being extraneous to the sphere of common affairs. In its turn, democratic-socialist theory produced the dichotomy "collective/individual": on the one hand, the collectivity of "producers" (the ultimate incarnation of the People) comes to be identified with the State, be it with Reagan or with Honecker;on the other, the Multitude is confined to the corral of "individual" experience-- in other words, condemned to impotence.

We can say that this destiny of marginality has now come to an end. The Multitude, rather than constituting a "natural" ante-fact, presents itself as a historical result, a mature arrival point of the transformations that have taken place within the productive process and the forms of life. The "Many" are erupting onto the scene, and they stand there as absolute protagonists while the crisis of the society of Work is being played out. Post-Fordist social cooperation, in eliminating the frontier between production time and personal time, not to mention the distinction between professional qualities and political aptitudes, creates a new species, which makes the old dichotomies of "public/private" and "collective/individual" sound farcical. Neither "producers" nor "citizens," the modern virtuosi attain at last the rank of Multitude.

What we have here is a lasting and continuing reality, not some noisy intermezzo. Our new Multitude is not a whirlpool of atoms that "still" lacks unity, but a form of political existence that takes as its starting point a One that is radically heterogeneous to the State: public Intellect. The Many do not make alliances, nor do they transfer rights to the sovereign, because they already have a shared "score"; they never converge into a "general will" because they already share a "general intellect." The Multitude obstructs and dismantles the mechanisms of political representation. It expresses itself as an ensemble of "acting minorities," none of which, however, aspires to transform itself into a majority. It develops a power that refuses to become government. Now, it is the case that each of the "many" turns out to be inseparable from the "presence of others," inconceivable outside of the linguistic cooperation or the "acting-in-concert" that this presence implies. Cooperation, however, unlike the individual labor time or the individual right of citizenry, is not a "substance" that is extrapolatable and commutable. It can, of course, be subjected, but it cannot be represented or, for that matter, delegated. The Multitude, which has an exclusive mode of being in its "acting-in-concert," is infiltrated by all kinds of Kapos and Quislings, but it does not accredit stand-ins or nominees.

The States of the developed West are today characterized by a political nonrepresentability of the post-Fordist workforce. In fact, they gain strength from it, drawing from it a paradoxical legitimation for their authoritarian restructuring. The tangible and irreversible crisis of representation offers an opportunity for them to eliminate any remaining semblance of "public sphere"; to extend enormously, as observed above, the prerogatives of Adminstration at the expense of the politico-parliamentary process; and thus to make an everyday reality of the state of emergency. Institutional reforms are set in motion to prepare the requisite rules and procedures for governing a Multitude upon whom it is no longer possible to superimpose the tranquilizing physiognomy of the "People." As interpreted by the post-Keynesian State, the structural weakening of representative democracy comes to be seen as a tendency toward a restriction of democracy tout court. It goes without saying, however, that an opposition to this course of events, if conducted in the name of values of representation, is pathetic and pointless--as useful as preaching chastity to sparrows. Democracy today has to be framed in terms of the construction and experimentation of forms of nonrep-resentative and extraparliamentary democracy. All the rest is vacant chitchat.

The democracy of the Multitude takes seriously the diagnosis that Carl Schmitt proposed, somewhat bitterly, in the last years of his life: "The era of the State is now coming to an end... .The State as a model of political unity, the State as title-holder of the most extraordinary of all monopolies, in other words, the monopoly of political decision-making, is about to be dethroned."15 And the democracy of the Multitude would make one important addition: the monopoly of decision making can only really be taken away from the State if it ceases once and for all to be a monopoly. The public sphere of Intellect, or the Republic of the "many," is a centrifugal force: in other words, it excludes not only the continued existence, but also the reconstitution in any form of a unitary "political body." The republican conspiracy, to give lasting duration to the antimonopoly impulse, is embodied in those democratic bodies that, being nonrepresentative, prevent, precisely, any reproposi-tion of "political unity." Hobbes had a well-known contempt for "irregular politicall sys-temes," precisely because they served to adumbrate the Multitude within the heart of the People: "Irregular Systemes, in their nature, but Leagues, or sometimes meer concourse of people, without union to any particular designe, [not] by obligation of one to another, but proceeding onely from a similitude of wills and inclinations."16 Well, the Republic of the "many" consists precisely of institutions of this kind: leagues, councils, and Soviets. Except that, contrary to Hobbes's malevolent judgment, here we are not dealing with ephemeral appearances whose insurgence leaves undisturbed the rights of sovereignty. The leagues, the councils, and the Soviets--in short, the organs of nonrepresentative democracy--give, rather, political expression to the "acting-in-concert" that, having as its network general intellect, already always enjoys a publicness that is completely different from what is concentrated in the person of the sovereign. The public sphere delineated by "concourse" in which "obligation of one to another" does not apply, determines the "solitude" of the king, in other words, reduces the structure of the State to a very private peripheral band, which is overbearing but at the same time marginal.

The Soviets of the Multitude interfere conflictually with the State's administrative apparatuses, with a view to eating away at its prerogatives and absorbing its functions. They translate into republican praxis, in other words, into a care for common affairs, those same basic resources--knowledge, communication, a relationship with the "presence of others"--that are the order of the day in post-Fordist production. They emancipate virtiiosic cooperation from its present connection with waged labor, showing with positive actions how the one goes beyond the other.

To representation and delegation, the Soviets counterpose an operative style that is far more complex, centered on Example and political repro-ducibility. What is exemplary is a practical initiative that, exhibiting in a particular instance the possible alliance between general intellect and Republic, has the author-itativeness of the prototype, but not the normativity of command. Whether it is a question of the distribution of wealth or the organization of schools, the functioning of the media or the workings of the inner city, the Soviets elaborate actions that are paradigmatic and capable of blossoming into new combinations of knowledge, ethical propensities, technologies, and desires. The Example is not the empirical application of a universal concept, but it has the singularity and the qualitative completeness that, normally, when we speak of the "life of the mind," we attribute to an idea. It is, in short, a "species" that consists of one sole individual. For this reason, the Example may be politically reproduced, but never transposed into an omnivorous "general program."

1-人民与诸众，霍布斯对斯宾诺莎。

诸众是一种持存于公共场景、集体行动和公社事务处置中的多。多，但并不汇合成一，并不在一种以什么为核心的运动中蒸发。诸众是被看作成为多人的存在的多人的社会和政治存在：一种永久的形式，不是一个阶段性的和间隙的形式（Virno, 《诸众的语法》，21）。

2-霍布斯讨厌诸众这种形式，认为这是来自那个“至上的帝国”的最大危险，也就是说，对于那个作为对政治决断的垄断的国家，它是最危险的。在《论公民》（第12章，第8节），他指出，人民是具有一个意志的存在，而诸众是自然状态中的存在，是被压抑的远古的存在，会时不时冒出来复辟。有人民，就没有诸众，有了诸众，就没有了人民。诸众会使国家这架大机器失灵。诸众与人民的对立，是决定性的政治对立，表明我们时代里，政治的逆转点到了。人民统治政府，而国王是人民，人民有统一意志，与国家紧紧相连，国家是人民的决断形式。诸众是回避政治联合，抗拒服从，从不成为法人，是不能够站出来作出计谋，订立契约，获得或转让权利的。.

3-诸众政治。V认为，诸众政治的要点是出离和公民不服从，集体大规模逃离国家，建立诸众共和国，反对劳动，凝聚于集体智性等等。这个选择被Mouffe批评为太轻率，是逃避主义。维尔诺《诸众语法》：诸众政治原则7：普遍智性并不与固定资产重合，而主要以活的劳动的语言重述为主要的出场形式。原则10：我们身处的后福特主义生产关系，是一种“资本的共产主义”。两条加在一起理解就是：放它的血，让我们一起从其中抽身，将重心移到诸众的身体上。马克《政治经济学笔记》（英文版，705页）：基于交换价值的生产，于是就卡壳，碎裂，资本把自己拖进了共产主义。资本主义的自我矛盾：它好像是在将自己往共产主义那儿拖。齐泽克在《先悲剧后闹剧》前半本里发挥了这个。 (

4-我个人认为，诸众这个概念里应该加上一个矩阵的意思：直观地说，我们集体行动着时，不光是在凝聚集体意志，也是像在纺织毛线衣一样，将我们的身体串到一起，成为一架德勒兹说的“战争机器”，为某一个目标而共同训练，像围棋棋子那样“架空”国家。

5-展示：虚位以待诸从的到场；提供场地和道具，让观众来自我检阅，自觉地站队到诸众的阵营里。

My objective here will be very specific. I will limit myself to the field of social criticism and more precisely still to the relation between social criticism and radical politics. I intend to scrutinize one of the currently most fashionable views of social criticism today, which visualizes radical politics in terms of desertion and exodus and to contrast it with the hegemonic approach that I have been advocating in my work. My aim is to bring to the fore the main differences between those approaches, which one could roughly distinguish as ‘critique as withdrawal from’ and ‘critique as engagement with’ and to show how they stem from conflicting theoretical frameworks and understandings of the political. I will argue that ultimately the problem with the form of radical politics advocated by Post-Operaist thinkers like Negri and Virno is that they have a flawed understanding of the political because they do not acknowledge the ineradicable dimension of antagonism.

http://transform.eipcp.net/transversal/0808/mouffe/en

1-男人化身成为各种形象，常常是萨满式的，被神灵附身，被叫成神灵的名字，真的像神灵的代表那样来行动了，这样，交换与契约不光涉及人和物，而且也涉及与它们相联系的神圣存在物了。

...献祭式毁灭意味着：给出的东西，是会被回报的...献祭不光是要显示权力、财富和无私，一个人不是无缘无故就将奴隶处死，烧掉自己的那珍贵的油，将铜器扔到海里，把自己的家点燃的。在做这些事时，他也同时在向神和神灵献祭，而这些神灵似乎就显灵到了那些既他的同名神佑者，又是仪式的同盟的人身上（《论匮赠》，13-15）。

2-献出是为了得到同等的回报。它是经济行为。展示是一种诡计：用一块画而，去换来名望、地位、价值等等一系列剩余的象征价值。

3-献祭时，奉献者将他身边的人当作了神所附体的对象。类比地，在艺术展示，观众在展出的艺术家看来，是一种什么样的角色呢？

这已经是政治了，或者说，这才是政治：媒体曝光、明晰的声音、聪明的热闹、明确提出的要求、最重要的，带着任务、有实力的谈判者在身后，与场外的广大的占领者呼应，从外总施加压力，这就算是政治了。

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/cifamerica/2012/feb/03/qanda-naomi-wolf-occupy-movement

According to Lilla, the distinction between conservatives and liberals is philosophical.  Conservatives like Edmund Burke “have always seen society as a kind of inheritance we receive and are responsible for; we have obligations toward those who came before and to those who will come after, and these obligations take priority over our rights.”  But liberals like John Stuart Mill “assume that societies are genuinely constructs of human freedom, that whatever we inherit from them, they can always be unmade or remade through free human action.”

Given this understanding, however, Lilla concludes that, in current America politics, everyone is a liberal: “We take it for granted that we are born free, that we constitute society, it doesn’t constitute us and that together we legitimately govern ourselves.”  This seems right, but if it is, why do we still find talk of liberals and conservatives inevitable in describing our political differences?

http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/02/01/liberty-equality-hostility/

 I can’t imagine a world in which we aren’t revolutionary ourselves, and revolutionizing our relations with one another, and revolutionizing our understanding of what is possible. That doesn’t mean that we will not someday—perhaps someday soon, hopefully—achieve a world whereby the problems we have today will be the sort of things to scare children with stories of them. But that doesn’t mean we’ll ever overcome the need to revolutionize ourselves. And the process by which that comes about is the good life.

http://platypus1917.org/2012/01/31/interview-with-david-graeber/