Get out your brooms

I start where I am. I sit with laptop resting on legs extended (and propped on another chair) in the one semi-comfortable chair in the house (the other comfortable chair doing its civic duty and being a significant object, perhaps it almost is a character, on stage for the run of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?. The background music is the rough spinning, sloshing sounds of the washing machine's work, and faint, floating bits of unintelligible dialogue and the slightly louder crashes and yells of action scenes as my spousal unit watches ch131.com, a content pirate's (thinking of Josh's musings) dream.

You can see Avatar, which still is on the big screen, on ch131.com. I haven't watched anything on this channel; not because I'm opposed to a little bit of piracy- the whole academic enterprise, despite many people's misconceptions about ownership and originality is a game in which we all take five finger discounts- wantonly. We all thieve and plunder; we get a little booty now and again.

When we, if we are so lucky, create our concept(s), we will credit and source, but we can never point to all the points of information, inspiration, ideation. We have/will have read, spoken, listened, watched, learned to/from so many, too many sources. Our "plane of immanence" is a "sieve stretched over the chaos" (Deleuze and Guattari, 43).

"The problem of philosophy is to acquire a consistency without losing the infinite into which thought plunges" (Deleuze and Guattari, 42). We, after the "witch's flight" of thought (which I will come back to in another post) have to "Round about the cauldron go;" we have to stir the pot. We will sweat over our cauldrons, trying to find just the right container for our concept(s), spilling hot liquid onto our clothes and skin, getting burned in the process, in the hopes that we  make a potion that works some magic, and  that someone will plunder our plunges.