"A conscious fraction of the Imaginary Party, Tiqqun believes that what is true does not need to sign any name, practices anonymity like some others practice terrorism, and is in its element in all the coming forms of sabotage; it doesn't critique society so as to improve it, but instead spreads doubts everywhere about the existence of society itself, points out the maneuvers of a faceless internal enemy, and is engaged in a permanent conspiracy against that fiction, anticipating a mass desertion of the social corpse."
- a blurb on the website for éditions la fabrique, one of the group's publishers.
the original material, in French, can be found here.
translations of the magazine's primary articles:
(From tiqqun #1)
-Bloom Theory
-Raw Materials for a Theory of the Young-Girl
-On the Economy Considered as Black Magic
-Silence and Beyond
-A few Scandalous Exploits
-Machine-Men: A User's Guide
-What is Critical Metaphysics?
(From tiqqun #2)
-Theses on the Terrible Community
-The Cybernetic Hypothesis
-Critical Metaphysics: A Science of Apparatuses
-Ma Noi Ci Saremo [but we'll be here]
-Sonogram of a Potential
-Report to the SACS Concerning an Imperial Apparatus
-The Little Game of the Man of the Old Regime
The Coming Insurrection
[bis, modified]
| COMMENTS / CORRECTIONS - if you find any awkward sentences anywhere, please enter the title of the article and the first words of the sentence in question. | "First the flames burst out onto the scene, like some amusing special effect that was just part of the show. Some people had started only all too soon to applaud and shout 'bravo,' when they suddenly realized, whether from the paleness in the faces around or from some whisper of fright - inaudible to the ear but perceptible to the soul - that indeed it was a real flame that had leapt up, a monster, an evil beast that was no joke at all. There were still a few however that didn't grasp anything about the tiger that had brusquely pounced out into the world, and was now the master of the evening. The actors on the stage cried out and abandoned the artistic realm, at which point the public in turn began to scream. In the balconies, another sort of unworldly beast had reared its head: fear. Each passing moment seemed to give birth to new monsters." - R. Walser |