Unfolder monster
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2 The administration of forgetting-the calculated, administered, and often brutal amnesias by which a state or political entity tries to erase the secrets of its violence-nonetheless leaves telltale traces as a kind of counter-evidence.
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Ghosts point to places where concealed, denied or unresolved violence has taken place. But the black hole of the rubber tube in the window and an orange chaos of piled up life jackets just visible at the back of the store create visual disturbances that point to a spectral violence.
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The shop window stages the false promise of the neoliberal, masculine, equal-opportunity market, a contemporary version of the imperial rescue narrative, choreographing global-south to global-north upliftment: “the free market that will raise all lifeboats” ethos. As if displaced people from the global south, desperately dressed for survival, can, with the exchange of cash like the man tucking his wallet in his pocket, pass through the open door of the unregulated free market, risk-and-security economy, be rescued from calamity, and instantly dressed for success. A photograph of the shop is both striking and chilling in showing how nonchalantly the shop-window stages a false equivalence between the models on the right wearing orange life jackets and the identical models on the left wearing black business jackets. 1 Izmir serves as a hub for refugees and migrants, as well as a boomtown for local business. In 2015, at the height of the arrival of 500,000 displaced people into Europe, a men’s clothing shop in Izmir, Turkey, began selling orange life jackets alongside its regular men’s wear. No one leaves home until home is a sweaty voice in your earīut i know that anywhere is safer than here That no one puts their children in a boat Photo: Tyler Hicks/The New York Times/Redux, September 26, 2015. The great burnings of the trees, the vanishing of the bees, and everywhere the stealthy rising of the seas.Ī men's clothing shop in Izmir, Turkey, selling life jackets. Farmers watch mile-high dust storms rub out the sky. Firestorms so vast they are visible from space rage across Amazonia, Australia, Siberia. Lightning torches the tundra, turning permafrost into permafire. Now the ice sheets are vanishing faster than ever thought possible. We combusted the deep time of the past-aeons of compressed ocean shells, ancient plants, and animal bones-into an alchemy of black energy and our fantasy of a forever fossil future.
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We awakened oil from its ancient slumber to fuel our own fossil dreams.
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How can we account for the planetary upheavals of the Anthropocene unless we illuminate the long arc of their beginnings in the military geographies of European imperialism-the foundational violences of slavery, genocides of Indigenous peoples, and the centuries of ecocides and onslaughts on the environment that shaped-and are now undoing-the world? At the same time, how can we animate alternative histories of the past and thereby imagine alternative futures? The established circuits that connect these crises have been ghosted. This essay enfolds, fugue-like, three great crises of our time: climate chaos, global militarization, and the mass displacement of people and other species. How do we write a history of fragments? How do we record a history of forgetting? We have entered an epoch of shocked space and torn time. Where one finds oneself unexpectedly in haunted spaces that create improbable connections. From monstrum, monere: to show, warn, or remindįrom fugere, or fugare, to flee from or chase,Īs in fleeing or chasing monsters or ghosts.įugues appear in contrapuntal music or narratives, interweaving differently braided voices.įugues also appear as emotional states involving amnesia, great forgettings and unburyings,