Andreas Broeckmann on Wed, 7 Jul 1999 21:44:43 +0100

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Syndicate: BETA-VERSION: Changing Faces, or Proto-Balkanian Dis-Identifications

dear friends,

below is the test-version of a text for the Media Revolutions book due to
be published this autumn. as this text is full of
Syndicate-mythologisations and references to current discussions, i post it
and welcome comments, preferably critical - specific or general. what
reaches me by the weekend can be taken into account for the final version.



(4.939 words, 26.101 characters; 7 july 99)

Changing Faces, or Proto-Balkanian Dis-Identifications

Andreas Broeckmann

1. Preface: Minor Changes

For the last ten years, Europe has been in another one of its historical
turbulences, coming into and going out of focus, gaining and losing
contour, changing its face and reassessing its identity. The European
Revolution of the 1990s, which started in 1989 with earlier rumblings in
1981 and 1985, is not over, ten years later, and recent developments on the
Balkans suggest that it'll be a while before the new Europe finds its shape.

The following is an attempt to formulate some of the strategies that
cultural practitioners - artists, theorists, writers, and curators among
them - might adopt to let a Europe come about that is not more but less
divided, not more but less egotistical, not more but less closed to the
rest of the world. Especially in times of military conflict, the feeling of
utter helplessness clashes with the clear awareness of the necessity to
create alternatives to the dominant discourses of nationalism, segregation
and polarisation. My somewhat naive belief is that cultural practice has
the potential to achieve this, at least tendentially.

There can be little doubt that the mass media play an important role in the
creation of the context in which conflicts like those in former Yugoslavia
will thrive. Knowledgeable people and sensible Balkanians have argued that,
for instance, the religious dimension of this latter conflict is mainly a
fabrication. One of the questions behind this essay is: if the media can
produce enemies, can they also be used to produce friends? And is it
possible to develop media strategies that counter the Grand Narrations of
conflict, and that put forth one or several minor narrations that irritate,
subvert, amuse, tickle the minds of some of the participants?

The examples which I will be refering to after several theoretical detours,
come from a community-based practice and may therefore not be as
sharp-edged and sublime as one would hope for. If we look at it from the
perspective of weapons technology, I am probably describing a few spears
and shields, while the big guys are flying and crashing their Apache
helicopters. We are talking minor changes here, not major impact.

2. Dis-Identifications

On the morning of 26 May 1999, the day of a European football cup final
between Manchester United and Bayern München, the Berlin yellow press
newspaper BZ included a subtitle on its front page, reading: Heute abend
sind alle Berliner Bayern. Tonight, all Berliners are Bavarians.

This vignette from popular culture points to two aspects of what I am
arguing here: identities are constructs, and the mass media play a
determining role in the broad social processes of identification that make
consent and mobilisation of large segments of populations possible. The
quote from the BZ is no proof, obviously, but it indicates the mechanics
and potential manipulation of idenfications. The flexibility suggested here
- turning Berliners into Bavarians when that seems to be opportune - is a
good start for what I would heuristically call, for lack of a better term,

Michael Ignatieff has recently made a passionate plea for a culture of
civic humanism in which, for ethical reasons, similarity and equality are
posited as the central assumptions of people's shared existence on this
planet. 'It has become common to believe that we create our identities as
much as we inherit them, that belonging is elective rather than tribal,
conscious rather than unconscious, chosen rather than determined. Even
though we cannot choose the circumstances of our birth, we can choose which
of these elements of our fate we make our defining inheritance. Artists
like Joyce have helped to think of our identities as artistic creations and
have urged us to believe that we too can fly free from the nets of
nationality, religion, and language.' (Ignatieff 1999, p.167)

In the way Ignatieff describes the option, this seems to be a choice
reserved for a few enlightened cosmopolitans, not for the many who have no
frame of reference through which to find a safe home in such an open,
gravitation-free cultural space. However, the task for cultural practice
could be to create such frames of reference in which people's personal
security (and I regard fear and security as key concepts that determine
social behaviour) is wrested free from the existence of an ethnically pure
nation, an historically certified territory and a culturally and
linguistically homogeneous neighbourhood.

The respective strategies which cultural practitioners devise should always
exhibit a good sense of humour. Humour makes it much easier for people to
accept a certain degree of irritation and the blurring of rules and
boundaries. Create 'muddy' identities, affirm hybridity and seek to foster
functioning and heterogeneous groups. Distract people from what they think
are their identities and show them that they are neither 'national' nor
'ethnic' pawns, but multi-national and multi-ethnic individuals who are
much more alike their enemies, and much more different from their friends,
than they rushed to assume. Give them time to think about their family's
history. There are extensive experiences in Europe and beyond that
identities are generally multiple, fractured, fragile. Most of the time,
only a small proportion of any population will identify with a single
entity like a state, a nation, a people, or whatever, while most others
share diverse sorts of local or minority identities, whether as immigrants,
as people of different gender or sexual orientation, as belonging to
certain sub-cultural tribes, or whatever. Ignatieff shows that such a
scenario does not prevent the 'narcissism of minor differences' from
breaking through and speeding people into hostility. But the floating
distinctions between minor and major differences mean that it should be
possible to teach tolerance of minor differences, just as the opposite
seems to be possible, i.e. to instigate murderous, quasi-mass-suicidal
behaviour in the face of such differences. "Ethnicity is not a skin, but a
mask, constantly repainted." (Ignatieff, p.56)

3. Losing Face, or: Major Games of Honour

Traditionally, war and conflict are highly regulated operations whose rules
are laid down and shared among enemies - not universally, but often across
large regions. The code of conduct of knights, for instance, was valid
across Europe for centuries until modern warfare emasculated the honourable
soldier and officer. The remainders of this traditional, 'honourable' war
culture are protected by the International Red Cross (IRC) which, as
Ignatieff has described in his essay 'The Warrior's Honour' (1999), does
not take sides or try to prevent war, but seeks to protect victims against
dishonourable forms of warfare. Like any moral code, the warrior code is
one that serves to construct the identity of the human subject, it
subjectifies the individual and constructs its self as that of an
honourable fighter. Compatibility between individual behaviour and an
external system of moral rules guarantees a positive self-image. Complying
with a system of rules that is also held, respected and applied by the
enemy makes a good, honourable warrior.

Morality remains one of the primary elements in discourses around war -
consider the current example of the 'just' or even 'moral war' that NATO
has fought in, or should I say: over, or: onto Yugoslavia. The dilemma that
NATO faced was that it seemed equally problematic to act, as not to act and
risk a repetition of the Bosnian scenario. Yet the way in which NATO
conducted the war looked rather dishonourable. Dropping missiles and
cluster bombs from a safe height or distance without risking the lives of
NATO soldiers, was not seen as a sign of chivalric bravery (and was
commented on by Serb soldiers as an indication that the shaven [!] NATO
soldiers were not real men, who would no doubt have been beaten in ground
combat by the superior, bearded [!] Serbian army). Which is not to say that
massacres of unarmed civilians is less cowardly. The point here is that the
discourse of honour and chivalry was seriously undermined in this conflict,
which is why there was such frequent, nervous talk about the danger of
'losing one's face', or the need to defend one's face.

Ivo Skoric for instance writes: 'Since this war failed in its primary
objective of preventing the humanitarian disaster, it became mostly about
saving the face. The most powerful bloc of nations ever existing on our
planet - NATO - cannot afford to be taken for fools by some sarcastic rogue
bogeyman from the Balkans. To stop the bombing with Kosovo ethnically
cleansed of Albanians and Milosevic still in power in Yugoslavia, would be
understood as a certain NATO's defeat, and with losing this war, NATO would
lose the face, and nobody would ever take it seriously any more.' (Nettime,
11 May 1999) Boris Buden: 'democracy has again lost its face.' (Nettime 20
April 99) And a question which besieged the opposition in Belgrade, stuck
between a moral obligation and a ruthless government, was 'whether to save
the face or save the but'.

What intrigues me about this well-established topos is that the 'face' is
taken as the site of an intact, morally acceptable identity which is
maintained and constructed through the performances and the narratives of
media and culture. They have the task to protect, keep, save individuals
and collectives from 'losing the face'. This is also evident in the
following attempt by Sam Schulman to construct a way out of the dilemma
that NATO was facing in April '99: 'Perhaps the way out is to turn back to
Tragedy - the Greek version - and away from Origen's way of thought - give
up on Clinton's good versus Milosevic's evil. In tragedy it is occasionally
necessary to sacrifice a single person for the good of the community; after
which the world is put back together. Could the resignation in disgrace of
an individual-Madeleine Albright would be an excellent and just
choice-cover a retreat? We would "internationalize" the conflict, suddenly
decide that the UN, Russia, Israel, everyone could join in an arrangement
by which the Serbs might be rewarded for outwitting us, the refugees
compensated and protected, and our own honor restored by the sacrifice?'
(Nettime 28 April 99)

For me, the best way to grasp the relevance of the dilemma of 'losing the
face' is through the analysis of the face and the concept of faciality
(visagéité) which has been suggested by Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari
in A Thousand Plateaus (1980/1988). They thus describe a specific semiotic
regime that is based on the rudimentary form of the face and that effects
processes of subjectification. (cf esp. p.167-91) The primary process on
which facialisation rests is 'becoming the same', the production of
unified, molar, identical entities out of a multiplicity of different
singularities. What is similar, i.e. distinct and different, is turned into
an assumed molar unit in a process of 'identification'. The diagram of
identity is actualised in the notion of the face which, as the present
example shows, is always in danger of being lost. The processes of
facialisation - i.e. the collapsing of difference into the black hole of
identity - forces the insertion of the individual into specific economies
and (moral) orders of social power.

This analysis shows that it is necessary to reflect upon what it is that is
being protected as 'the face', and that the loss of the face, the blurring
of the mask, the changing of the features of identity might be one of the
painful and necessary performances to learn in the process of rejecting the
dominant, molar systems of identification. Is it possible to invent an
honourable immorality, respectable cowardice, honest fear, brave retreats
and humane capitulations? How about coming out at the low end of the
present, alive, scarred, but not stupefied by bravery and an iron mask of a
face? How about assuming the persistent identity of the cockroach? In a
recent discussion about the abyss of moral responsibility, one voice from
New Zealand was heard saying:

'Feel as though I'm crawling out of the cracks in the floorboard like a
cockroach. The carapace that saved me is a deadweight. Cockroaches are
ignoble survivors that people walk on out of sheer disgust. As Kosovars
crawl tortuously out of the hills, as Serbs just as "collabos" tortured in
France the instant "victory" was proclaimed, the carapace is also a shield.
Cockroaches are lowly survivors. Just like all those months ago that feel
like centuries, I wish I had the white wings of Te Kotuku, the white heron
winging through now summer skies. No shit. Instead of this black shiny
carapace. You know the sound it makes when you step on it? The sound of a
survivor cockroach going down? The sound of a breaking body? Mind a mess.
Sorry.' (Sally Jane Norman, Syndicate 18 June 1999)

If anything, suggestions like these can open up a discussion about the most
basic assumptions regarding the morality of identity, of consistency, of
bravery and honour. It is doubtful whether the faceless existence of a
cockroach is anything one can aspire to. But if we look into those
televised, auto-saved faces of history, one may begin to wonder why there
aren't any other masks to flee into.

4. Minor Games of Power

The war in Yugoslavia and Kosovo is the most current, pressing scenario
with which cultural practitioners in Europe are faced. Other scenarios,
like the slow-motion disintegration of the Russian empire, the re-emergence
of the Baltic region, the hazy reality of Mitteleuropa, the precarious role
of Albanian, Hungarian, German, Turkish, Basque, Roma, and other minorities
in different parts of the continent, are equally precarious, both
potentially productive and destructive. The site of these scenarios is Deep
Europe, a continent which has its own mental topography and which is
neither East nor West, North nor South, but which is made up of the
multi-layeredness of identities: the more overlapping identities, the
deeper the region.

The notion of Deep Europe is only one of the conceptual inventions that
emerged from the work of the Syndicate, a network of media-cultural
practitioners, artists, writers, organisers, designers, etc., who have been
communicating with each other, organising meetings and joint projects since
the beginning of 1996. It is a translocal network based on personal
relationships and on the healthy mixture of disagreement, respect and
solidarity that characterises a good friendship. The existence and the
activities of the Syndicate, whose name is deliberately ironic and
ambiguous, indicate a new cultural dimension that has developed over the
last decade and that is also closely linked to the rapid expansion of the
Internet since 1994.

The Syndicate traces its roots in the artistic and tactical media that
connected individuals and groups on both sides of, and across the Iron
Curtain and away from mass media attention. Photo-copied philosophy books,
smuggled audio tapes, clandestine cross-border TV consumption, the
unobtrusive messages of mail art and the subversity of jokes and
friendships - these are the small or 'minor' media practices in the border
valleys of the not-so-blind. Since 1989, these practices have partly become
obsolete, and partly they have been transformed into new formats, using new
technologies and growing new types of strange little plants and weeds of
contemporary culture.

If the activities of the big political players can be described as Major
Games of Honour, then the games that the Syndicate and similar groups play
might be called Minor Games of Power. This reading, informed by Guattari's
notion of minority - on which more in the concluding section - and
Foucault's concept of capillary power, highlights the minor changes in the
topological map of perception, of ethics and aesthetics, rather than the
major shifts in political tectonics. It points out the filigree structures
where individual human actions acquire meanings that are free from the
rules of the Grand Narratives, and indicates the potential power that many
small actions can have when they create a tendency, a current in a
direction that may divert or even counter the dominant flow. It is
impossible to plan such tendential changes, yet, it is possible to relish
their minor effects and to observe the emerging, tender features of a new
face. Thus, the following examples may be taken as starting points for
strategic and tactical manoeuvres through which small groups can intervene
into transforming ('historical') fields, manoeuvres which are carried out
in and motivated by a medial environment and which try to impact on the
European political and cultural topology that we travel.

The Deep Europe workshop during the documenta X exhibition in Kassel in
1997, for instance, brought together a mixed group of fifteen Syndicalists
from different countries who spent ten days working together on the notion
of Deep Europe, talking amongst themselves and with exhibition visitors,
experimenting with the mental territory that the term created. Like the
notion of 'Mitteleuropa', which played such an important role in the
international intellectual struggle to overcome the divisions of the Cold
War in the 1980s, 'Deep Europe' turned out to be a powerful 'creationist'
tool through which a new entity, another view, a remapped Europe, could be
brought into existence. The conceptual work was translated into the Deep
Europe Visa Department performance at the end of the workshop, during which
the participants created a pseudo-bureaucratic scene where exhibition
visitors had to stand in line, have their bodies scanned, fill out barely
comprehensible forms with awkward questions, and be talked to in a Babel of
languages by the different visa officers. Here, the Syndicate succeeded for
the first time in publically claiming a symbolic territory of its own,
based on the idiosyncratic expriences of the participants. This new
territory or 'heterotopos' (Foucault) was neither imaginary nor fictional,
but realised the potential of a heterogeneous group and its translocal

Over half a year later, another Syndicate group participated in a Baltic
cultural conference hosted by the Swedish government in Stockholm, and
found the need to formulate the Partnership for Culture Plan (TM), an act
of re-appropriation in a situation of cultural appropriation. The
conference, 'Shaking Hands and Making Conflict' (April 1998), brought
together cultural practitioners from the entire Baltic region and Belarus
and Ukraine, and was designed to foster cultural relations in the region.
The Swedish government's framework programme Partnership for Culture made
no effort to hide its sibling relationship with NATO's Partnership for
Peace, a loose military cooperation with former Warsaw Pact countries. The
military-to-culture analogy was all too obvious: influence through
strategic friendship backed up by financial aid.

The Syndicate's Partnership for Culture Plan (TM) was written as a business
plan outlining the ground rules for achieving cultural supremacy in the
Baltic region. The Plan has an economic, a military and a cultural chapter,
offering a humorous, at times sniding reflection of modern forms of
cultural imperialism. After having been read out in an act of panel
hijacking on the last day of the conference, the pamphlet received very
mixed responses, from angry recognition and amusement to critiques of
naivety. For the Syndicate group, the Partnership for Culture Plan (TM)
performance was enlightening because it pinpointed the trajectory of power
interests that frequently runs through international cultural efforts. The
somewhat unfair denunciation in the Plan of the Swedish government as
cultural imperialists, emphasised that the boundaries between benign
cultural benevolence and hard economic, military or political interests are
blurred, an experience that many Deep Europeans have been strongly aware of
with regard to the philanthropic work of the Open Society and Soros
Foundations. Stockholm - thus the network lore - turned the Syndicate into
a true Family, it made it aware of its virtual power and of its narrative

Intermezzo 1. The most cherished moments of the Syndicate network are its
meetings in predicable and unpredictable places. At the end of the
documenta X workshop the idea was born to make a joint trip to Tirana in
order to visit our friends there. The idea became reality, and in May 1998
a group of twelve Syndicalists travelled to Albania where they spent a week
touring the country, meeting art students and cultural practitioners,
presenting and discussing new work in the field of media art and media
culture. The trip ran under the title 'Pyramedia', referring both to the
catastrophic pyramid investment schemes that had ruined the Albanian
economy shortly before, and to the pyramidal National Centre of Culture in
the centre of Tirana which - pure coincidence - has since been put under
the directorship of a Tirana-based Syndicalist. Pyramedia was a proof of
the Syndicate's commitment to travel, cooperation and friendship off the
beaten track of the large-scale multimedia centres, and articulated the
curiosity about one of Europe's deepest regions. The trip made us aware of
the wealth of experience and creativity that exists in all nooks and
corners, away from the apparent virtual capitals. Tornio, Riga, Plovdiv,
Salford, Angoulême, Bologna, Arad, Tallinn, Gdansk, Werkleitz, Plasy, Novi
Sad, Banja Luka - cultural capitals of Deep Europe.

Intermezzo 2. One of those meetings was planned for Belgrade in April 1999
- an appointment that was made impossible by the spring war in Kosovo and
Yugoslavia. Thanks to the generosity of new hosts and the flexibility of
the travel funders, the meeting could be moved to Budapest, where in the
middle of the war, 38 Syndicalists from all over Europe met to discuss the
situation and to make plans for projects that could be done or prepared
under such circumstances. The most important experience during that meeting
was probably that, as was to be expected, the division and differences
dictated by the polarised conflict did not trouble this encounter of
friends. The borders that we had to cross to get to Hungary, whether from
East, West, North or South, are a reality with their own logic, but we do
not have to accept that this reality must determine the logic of our
cultural work. That work knows differences and similarities, it knows
change and exchange, construction and deconstruction, it follows the
interest, the creativity and the passion of people and more often than not,
ignores political borders and territories. The Syndicate, we discovered
during the meeting, was not at war.

Quite on the contrary, one of the working groups of the Budapest meeting
started to discuss the establishment of an alternative to the fractured and
hostile patchwork of countries and nations of the Balkan region. Talking
about possible scenarios for the time after the war, the group suggested
the formation of the Future State of Balkania. This state would have no
territory but would be a state of mind. It would be rooted in people's
imaginings of the future, and would be an immediate realisation of those
imaginations - true to the old Balkanian principle that, 'Simulation of the
process leads to its realisation'. The formation of Balkania is a long-term
conceptual project which strives to seriously subvert the European state of
mind. Its most important slogan - 'Ich bin ein Balkanier.' - indicates how
the analysis of the Deep Europe workshop, coupled with the strategic
cunning of the Partnership for Culture Plan (TM), can now be pushed one
step further towards the dis-lodging of existing regimes of identity.

5. Conclusion: Minor Mythologisation, or: heterogenèse balkanique

The future concept of the Future State of Balkania brings us full circle
from where we started, i.e. to the question whether there are possible
strategies for countering the Grand Narratives of Identity and Difference
with minor narratives of the pleasure of becoming ever more different while
remaining curious and respectful of others. This can hardly be done through
a radical critique of the media which, as Peter Weibel affirms, don't lie
or cheat, but tell things within their own specific constraints and
possibilities (abstrakte Eigenwerte der Medien) which can be used and
abused. Minor media practices are a matter of tactical usage. Two examples
of the minor cultural strategies that were used, for instance, back in the
GDR and that have recently been identified by Thorsten Schilling, are the
'creation of differences internal to the system' (Erzeugung von
systeminternen Differenzen) and the 'importation of external differences'
(Import externer Differenzen).

According to Guattari and Deleuze's definition, a 'minor literature' is the
literature of a minority that makes use of a major language, a literature
which deterritorialises that language and interconnects meanings of the
most disparate levels, inseparably mixing and implicating poetic,
psychological, social and political issues with each other. The strategies
of 'being minor' are deployed in multiple contexts: intensification,
re-functionalisation, estrangement, transgression. (1975) In an interview
from 1985, Guattari specifies the transformative dynamics of such minor
practices: 'Whenever a marginality, a minority, becomes active, takes the
word power (puissance de verbe), transforms itself into becoming, and not
merely submitting to it, identical with its condition, but in active,
processual becoming, it engenders a singular trajectory that is necessarily
deterritorialising because, precisely, it's a minority that begins to
subvert a majority, a consensus, a great aggregate. As long as a minority,
a cloud, is on a border, a limit, an exteriority of a great whole, it's
something that is, by definition, marginalised. But here, this point, this
object, begins to proliferate [...], begins to amplify, to recompose
something that is no longer a totality, but that makes a former totality
shift, detotalises, deterritorialises an entity.' (Guattari 1985/1995) The
line of flight of the experimentations described earlier might then be the
construction of new and strong forms of individual and group subjectivities
which can strengthen the process of what Guattari calls 'heterogenesis,
that is a continuous process of resingularisation. The individuals must, at
the same time, become solidary and ever more different.' (1989/1994)

Howard Slater, a cultural critic from England, has developed Guattari's
ideas with a more specific focus on what he calls post-media practices or
operations. Post-media is defined in opposition to the mass media and is
characterised by small, diverse, distributed networks of operators who make
use of the new, digital means of production and distribution. Post-media
practice grows out of the networked activities of passionate individuals
and groups working in local and translocal contexts and using such media as
magazines, record labels, CD-Roms, websites, club events, mailing lists,
etc. Differences in these networks are not eliminated but relished.
Post-media practice is characterised by a critical attitude towards the
media in use, acting in lateral rather than vertical configurations, and an
acceptance of the processuality and continuous transformation of context
and practice.

Slater's conception might be taken as a guideline for what we could
hyperbolically call 'heterogenic, proto-balkanian, minor media practices':
'Maybe [postmedia operations] show that anybody can do it if they
disentangle themselves from the overriding prohibitions and fears of what
others may think, because afterall, it is only by breaching the gaps that
society can become transparent enough to encourage our actions to aim for
its weakest points where, at present, its only cohesiveness [...] lies in
the fear a person may have of another. Pierre Bourdieu sums this up when,
in talking of political journalism he remarks how it shows us "a world full
of incomprehensible and unsettling dangers from which we must withdraw for
our own protection". Post media operations seem to me to be about risk.
They are horizontal, dispersed and all-inclusive and, in being so, are open
to what may come to 'affect' [them]. In this way I think [post media] is
activity that is socialised and polyphonic, that can imagine what it wants
to imagine rather than have its fantasies made-up for it like a be-spoke
suit. It could imagine revolution if it wanted to.' (Slater 1999)

We will have to see how far we want to go with such optimism in a situation
where the myths of 'the danger of mixing' and of the 'wars in an unclean
neighbourhood' run deep and are, by some, devised as official political
policies. Other questions that demand honest rather than slick answers are,
if we can and actually want to live with difference in our neighbourhood,
whether we will defend a culturally muddied environment, and whether we can
create a culture of heterogeneity in which the differences between people
are cherished rather than taken as a source of segregation and hate. I
believe that we have to be as slow and careful as possible in answering
these questions. The crunch might lie in the fact that, in order to accept
the difference, we have to accept changing, becoming different, and
teaching others the value of this change. Removing the fear for becoming
other than who and what we are now.

My hope is that the answer can be a tentative 'yes'. The task for culture,
then, is the creation of practices, images and symbolical references which
can carry the message of difference and heterogenesis in a powerful way.
Who will find the image and the phrase that is the opposite of, and as
ferociously memorable as that of 'ethnic cleansing'? Who will create an
effective symbolical mine-field for the ethno-nationalist ideologies of
culture and identity?


Inke Arns, Andreas Broeckmann: Small Media Normality for the East. In:
ZKP4. Ed. by Nettime. Ljubljana, 1997

Gilles Deleuze, Felix Guattari: Kafka. Pour une litterature mineur. Paris:
Ed. de Minuit, 1975

Gilles Deleuze, Felix Guattari: Tausend Plateaus. (1980) Athlone Press, 1988

Felix Guattari: Pragmatic/Machinic. Discussion with Guattari, conducted and
transcribed by Charles J. Stivale. (1985) In: Pre/Text, Vol. 14, No. 3-4,

Felix Guattari: Die drei Ã?kologien. (1989) Wien: Passagen Verlag, 1994

Felix Guattari: Chaosmosis. An ethico-aesthetic paradigm. (1992) Sidney:
Power Publications, 1995

Michael Ignatieff: The Warrior's Honor. Ethnic war and the modern
conscience. London: Vintage, 1999

Nettime mailing list -

Howard Slater: 'Post-Media Operators.' In: README! Ed. by Nettime. New
York: Autonomedia, 1999

Syndicate mailing list -

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