NotesIf you lose to this aff, you literally lose to an aff whose solvency mechanism is a plant.

From Gregg Lambert’s “The War Machine and ‘a people who revolt’”:

“Because everything may seem a bit muddled at this point, let us go back over the major propositions so far:

1.    Provisionally speaking, according to Deleuze and Guattari the war-machine is invented by the nomads, not by the State. Strictly speaking, the State invents nothing; it merely appropriates, being itself an “empty form of appropriation.”

2.    Being always external to the State-Form, the war-machine in its essence has only one goal, the destruction of the State-Form; thus in appropriating the war-machine, the State must always assign it another object: total war against an enemy (Der Feind). “The question is therefore less the realization of war than the appropriation of the war-machine. It is at the same time that the State apparatus appropriates the war machine, subordinates it to its ‘political’ aims, and gives it war as its direct object.”31

3.    There are also other situations that Deleuze and Guattari allude to when they say that under certain conditions, defined by “infinitely lower quantities,” the war-machine can make use of war in order to create something else (e.g., “new nonorganic social relations”).

4.    However, in both these situations, according to the two kinds of war machines produced or created, it appears that one thing is absolutely necessary: an object, whether direct or merely “supplementary.” The problem then becomes: what happens when this object is not provided, or the State fails to resolve this object-relation correctly? It is here that we find the many examples of those exceptional situations where the war-machine takes itself as an object, becoming a “double suicide machine.”32“

1ac CX questions

RhizomesWhy vote neg?Will you defend the advocacy for the entire debate?How are the millions of Americans unaware of the extent of government surveillance controlled by miscofascisms?What was it that made you start reading Deleuze?What is becoming? Will you defend it?

War Machine What is the effect of the advocacy statement?Are there any examples of war machines in the status quo?Doesn’t the Baltimore uprisings prove that war machines are only short lived since the protests lasted less than two weeks?

Rhizomes Specific Case

Internal Link work

MisunderstandingsAlthough panoptic theories of surveillance have accomplished much in surveillance studies, Foucault failed to account for ICTs and technical advances such as the internet. Post- panoptic theories have sought to fill this gap, such as Haggerty and Ericson's (2000) attempt to reconceptualise surveillance as an assemblage. The assemblage considers surveillance to be a dispersed and rhizomatic phenomenon, being conducted by an unrelated multiplicity of groups and practices (Palmas 2011). The conglomerate of surveillance entities instead seeksto break the individual into a desired set of discrete data, called flows. These flows represent the many streams of information that contribute to databases, circulate in information networks, and form an individual’s data self. The technical developments and implications of surveillance have encouraged many theoretical explanations. However these theories often favour analysing broader social and technical trends, without considering the individual in the analysis. Haggerty and Ericson(2006) attempt to include more of the individual by examining flows of personal data in the assemblage, but they again ignore the effects of surveillance on the individual's lived experience (Wood 2007:256). Many of these perspectives also assume surveillance to be a uniform social phenomenon, and do not attempt to explore how those under surveillance reactor respond to it. While the technical and structural aspects of surveillance are clearly highlighted, how the individual's experience fits in these structures is obscured. Such considerations are especially important, given the spread and implications of surveillance in contemporary Western society.

The aff operates under a fatal misunderstanding of how the surveillance state has risen to power. The idea of micro-fascisms can’t be applied to surveillance, and the surveillant assemblage doesn’t exist. We have to face the fact that we are surveilled because we have a deep-seated individual desire within the Big Other to be surveilled.Smecker, 13 (Frank. American philosopher and social theorist. He studied English, Philosophy, and Psychology at University of Vermont, and is currently studying philosophy at Duquesne University. An emerging voice in the canon of social theory, contemporary philosophy, and Žižekian dialectics, his topics of interest include: left politics, philosophy, Freudo-Lacanian psychoanalysis, radical environmentalism, workers' rights and movements, lit-theory, film, and music. "1984.0: The Rise of the Big Other as Big Brother." Truthout. N.p., 20 June 2013. Web. 19 July 2015. http://webcache.googleusercontent.com/search?q=cache:qw3k1icvngQJ:www.truth-out.org/speakout/item/17111-19840-the-rise-of-the-big-other-as-big-brother+&cd=1&hl=en&ct=clnk&gl=us)TB

In order to grasp what I'm getting at here, it's important to familiarize oneself for the time being with two theoretical terms: the "big Other" and "gaze." The latter often lends itself to a multitude of theoretical interpretations, each one replete with its own definition and conceptualization of functioning. To preempt against too much confusion, however, we'll focus on the gaze as discussed

hereunder. To start, the twentieth century psychoanalyst Badass, Jacques Lacan, gave an account of the gaze with the following

story he borrowed from Sartre: The gaze that I encounter [...] is not a seen gaze [not a set of eyes that I see looking at me] but a gaze imagined by me in the field of the Other [...] the sound of rustling leaves heard while out hunting [...] a footstep heard in a corridor [The gaze exists] not at the level of [a particular] other whose gaze surprises the subject looking through the keyhole. It is that the other surprises him, the subject, as an entirely hidden gaze. [3] And then there is what Slovenian philosopher

and cultural critic, Slavoj Žižek, calls the "impossible gaze": that uncanny perspective by means of which we are already present at the scene of our own absence. What this means is that, any good ol' fantasy functions properly only by "removing" ourselves from the fantasy we are having. Take as an example Disney's Wall-E, the story of a convivial little robot that looks like an anthropomorphized Mars rover, that "falls in love" with Eva, a robot that basically looks like an egg. Essentially, this is a fantasy of a post-human earth - though of course dreamed up by someone (human) and, definitely watched by a whole bunch of (human) people. Hence the perspective in which "I am present at the very scene of my own absence" - the

human viewer reduced to the "impossible" gaze - as if I'm not a part of the very "reality" I'm observing. This is, in a nutshell, the definition of

gaze. The big Other, on the other hand, is a bit more involved. Its definition is inherently nuanced. To start off, what we'll call the Symbolic big Other is something that is shared by everyone . It is none other than that which embodies the very ideological essence of the socio-symbolic order of our lives ; rules and etiquette - especially juridical Law itself - customs and beliefs, everything you should or should not do, what you aspire toward, and who or what you aspire to be, all of this and more, individually or in combination, constitutes the Symbolic big Other. The subject's big Other (hereafter, the Imaginary big Other ) , however, is a sort of private investment in the Symbolic big Other , a personal allegiance to the ruling ideology which sustains the narratives , beliefs , and lived fantasies of the very culture in which the subject is immersed . Each Imaginary big Other is distinct in its own unique way: my Imaginary big Other may be, say, a patriotic bricolage (not really, but you get the point) - a composite of things like, e.g., Uncle Sam, the American soldier trope, "God" and Tim Tebow. And your Imaginary big Other may embody, say,

just Emily Post, or maybe some vague ideological package of some other normative principles. In any case, the Imaginary big Other,

the subject's big Other as such, designates a private virtualization of the socio-symbolic field in which he or she is inscribed. Whether it exists in one's private notion of God, or one's notion of government, or family, or "what's cool," or a

combination of these things or whatever, the Imaginary big Other refers directly to that distinctly personalized social standard by which each of us respectively measures ourselves - 24/7/365 (yes, the big Other can make

itself known even in our dreams). Virtually everybody shares in the Symbolic big Other , for it's that very point from which the general "will-of-the-people" is reflected back to the people , so that we can see ourselves as

we appear in this reflection - as a consistent social "whole." In other words, the big Other is that which gives substance to the body politic. We are its subjects. And despite not really existing - that, at the imaginative level of the individual, it's really

none other than one's own internalization of society's dos-and-don'ts - the big Other is nonetheless experienced as a sort of independent phantasm which situates itself smack dab in the middle of any social interaction like some kind of incorporeal incarnation of a necessary third-

wheel that both instructs and scrutinizes our every thought, utterance, and move. As such, the big Other ensures that the rules of society are being followed, that we are conducting ourselves properly in society. Without the big Other the social fabric begins to fray, presenting the veritable threat of losing the constitutive substance of society itself, its governing laws, and its subjects. I suppose I should've been a little clearer earlier on: when we combine the Symbolic big Other and gaze, the result is the Imaginary big Other, the subject's big Other - that remote sense of being watched and evaluated by something that's not really there. It's sort of like a cross between a Jiminy Cricket figure of conscience and an iconic role-model of sorts, who, as such, seems to loom over your shoulder, telling you what and what not to do simply by "looking" at you, normatively

shaping and informing your every thought and behavior. We all have a big Other. It is, to repeat an emphasis from earlier, that standard by which we measure ourselves: our own private piece of the larger, public social space we inhabit. To paraphrase Žižek, the gaze of the Symbolic big Other is my own view of myself, which I see through eyes that are not authentically my own . Here, one should not fail to notice the Symbolic big Other's striking resemblance to Bentham's "Panopticon," that omnipresent, omniscient "God's-eye-view" intended to watch over us wherever we go. The likeness is unmistakable, simply because Bentham's

little wet dream embodies the big Other as such. The essential point to take away from this is that one's sense of (political) "self" is inevitably bound up with the localization of the panoptic gaze - that centralized point of omnipresent, omniscient surveillance. Wherever we go, our image of self, as seen by the gaze of the big Other, always functions for another. And further, in these times, do we not receive constant arousal, enjoyment, from the act of watching our own image of self, controlling our own image of self, tracking our own image of self? Though it's not: as if we were the Panopticon itself, but rather: because we are the Panopticon itself . We bring the Panopticon, the gaze of the Symbolic big Other as such, with us wherever we go. Social networking sites such as Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, etc., instantiate this. But what, precisely, does this even mean? Well, this is where things get both revelatory and a bit complicated. The trouble with all this is that, to return to Copjec's analysis, the

Symbolic big Other is "a point of convergence of the general will-of-the-people." What this means - and bear with me here, because this may turn confusing - is that the Symbolic big Other, as such, signifies the very mode of appearance in which we appear to ourselves, for ourselves, as we desire to appear as such. So it would follow that, if we appear to ourselves, for ourselves, as images to be controlled ,

manipulated, tracked, watched, and so on, as we certainly do in today 's digital medium of social networking - which, by the way, we collectively, willfully and, pleasurably participate in - then this zeitgeist of the modern majority will inevitably converge at a centralized point: which is to say, the big Other, both its Symbolic and Imaginary incarnations, will appear in the guise of "Big Brother." At the individual level, each of us embodies "Big Brother ": we are intrigued with the act of watching, tracking, manipulating, images of ourselves. At the Symbolic level, the truth of this enjoyment expresses itself today in all of its unsettling perversity: PRISM.

Haggerty deproblematizes the subject – he misrepresents the surveillance subject as the operator of surveillance systems.McGrath, 4 (John E. Loving Big Brother: Performance, Privacy and Surveillance Space. London: Routledge, 2004. 189. Print.)TB

Spivak suggests that readings of the desiring machine which de- emphasize the subject in fact simply de- problematize it - reinstating a transcendental subject . We have seen throughout our analysis Of surveillance space that the self uptaking the performativity of this space finds itself ambiguously placed in relation to subject/object position. As in speech acts, when the object of an enunciation may need to be subjectively involved in the speech act for it to be 'happy', so in our relation to surveillance space we subjectively uptake our object position in the space. As noted particularly in Chapter 2, part of this uptake of our object position may involve the fantasy of a transcendental subject outside ourselves, perhaps linked to the role Of the super-ego in our psyches. Scher's installations remind us that this transcendental subject is indeed a fantasy. In fact, there is no Big Brother to watch us. Which is not to say (and Scher

certainly would not say) that the effect Of surveillance systems cannot be real and ominous. Certainly, there are agents in the creation of surveillance systems whose intents of control are real; but they are not comprehensive and they are exceeded by the network of systems . Police chiefs may fantasize about total visual overview of city centres ; banks may long to link our credit and medical records; politicians may wish to pre- dict and marginalize trouble makers, but the growth of surveillance systems exceeds all Of these desires. It is

understandable, then, if, as in Spivak's reading of Deleuze and Guattari, the desiring machine of surveillance seems to create a fantasy of a transcendental surveil- lance subject (Big Brother), but, following Spivak, it is dangerous if we confuse this subject with the subaltern operators of surveillance systems.

Haggerty misrepresents Foucault – the gaze isn’t unidirectional.Caluya, 10 (Gilbert. Postdoctoral Research Fellow, Hawke Research Institute in the University of South

Australia. "The Post-panoptic Society? Reassessing Foucault in Surveillance Studies." Social Identities 16.5 (September 15, 2010): 621-33. Web.)TB

Despite Haggerty and Ericson’s allusion to Foucault’s theory of power, it is clear that they have misinterpreted it when they suggest that Foucault’s panopticon could be read as an extension of Orwell’s Big Brother. Similarly, Mathiesen makes the mistake of fetishising the power of the gaze and failing to see

how the gaze is only a mechanism of power within a certain concrete assemblage. Both articles presume the gaze to be unidirectional , both make the mistake of presuming the gaze to have an inherent power and, importantly, both reinstate a sovereign subject behind power. This is obvious from their fetishisation of the watcher as opposed to the watched . Far from moving ‘ beyond Foucault ’ their conception of power is decidedly pre-Foucault; in emphasising the power of vision in Foucault, they miss Foucault’s vision of power . The question, it seems to me, is not whether we are a post-panoptical society, but whether ‘ the microphysics of power ’ is no longer conceptually useful.

Surveillant Assemblage turns

Turn – the surveillance system is itself rhizomatic, and it resists exclusionary control – Guattari agrees.Lyon, 6 (David. Directs the Surveillance Studies Centre, is a Professor of Sociology, holds a Queen’s Research Chair and is cross-appointed as a Professor in the Faculty of Law at Queen's University in Kingston, Ontario. Theorizing Surveillance: The Panopticon and beyond. Cullompton, Devon: Willan Pub., 2006. 13. Print.)TB

But what if the surveillance system itself is less than it is perceived to be ? What if, despite the best efforts of Homeland Security and its ilk, those rhizomatic networks of pulsating data cannot finally be controlled and directed? This is the more emancipatory notion explored by William Bogard in his Deleuzean elaboration of ‘lines of flight’ . Post-panoptic surveillance is deterritorialized as well as rhizomic and as such resists exclusionary control strategies. In the panopticon, which is a ‘machinic’ assemblage, material flows are joined and

separated. But in enunciative assemblages, words are attached to things by relations of power. The soul- training of the panopticon with its moulded subjects gives way to flexibly modulated hybrid subjects, suited to varying circumstances . But lines of flight within these latter systems include file-sharing, decryption, using proxies and

sousveillance as well as conventional political anti-surveillance strategies. Does this mean, as Felix Guattari (1990) provocatively puts it , that there may be ‘safety in the machine’ ? Bogard’s reply brings Heidegger (1977) into the conversation but

concludes with a carefully qualified yes .

Turn – the surveillant assemblage is rhizomatic. It democratizes surveillance by allowing the gaze to be bidirectional and it deterritorializes systems of control.Lyon, 6 (David. Directs the Surveillance Studies Centre, is a Professor of Sociology, holds a Queen’s Research Chair and is cross-appointed as a Professor in the Faculty of Law at Queen's University in Kingston, Ontario. Theorizing Surveillance: The Panopticon and beyond. Cullompton, Devon: Willan Pub., 2006. 102-3. Print.)TB

By definition rhizomes are nonlinear , non binary, and non unitary structures (even the term ‘structure’ is potentially

misleading). How accurate can this model be for a control system that grounds itself in information science? Information science is based on a tree model whose content is articulated in normal (central tendency) probability functions, not on the model of a rhizome. And tree models, as Deleuze and Guattari note, invariably serve closed, hierarchical systems of decision and control – the state, the

police, the corporation, and so on (Deleuze and Guattari 1987: 6–7). On the other hand, if the emerging network of global surveillance is an open system in which each information node can and must connect to every other , then it makes sense to call this system a rhizome . Certainly, surveillance today is more decentralized , less subject to spatial and temporal constraints (location, time of day, etc.), and less organized than ever before by the dualisms of observer and observed, subject and object, individual and mass. The system of control is deterritorializing , and the effects of this are to intensify but also, in a very real sense, to democratize surveillance . The very logic of information networks that information must be free to flow between any part of the system, for surveillance means more ways to observe the observers , bypass their firewalls, access their databases and decode their communications. The question today is whether centres of power – states or corporations – can control the global networks their own information requirements push them to produce. Certainly, they can make some kinds of information very difficult to access, and this is easier for them the more networks are like trees (where all branches emanate from a single trunk

or central stem). But if networks are rhizomes, information becomes next to impossible to secure, and no firewall, password or encryption technology works for long. If networks are rhizomes, power based on security or secrecy has good reason to be concerned.

Turn - the surveillant assemblage can be liberatory. It tears down hierarchies of privilege and control, destroys panopticism, and even strengthens resistance to itself.Lyon, 6 (David. Directs the Surveillance Studies Centre, is a Professor of Sociology, holds a Queen’s Research Chair and is cross-appointed as a Professor in the Faculty of Law at Queen's University in Kingston, Ontario. Theorizing Surveillance: The Panopticon and beyond. Cullompton, Devon: Willan Pub., 2006. 110. Print.)TB

Today, many of these connections of the modern prison have been ‘informated’, a technical transformation begun in the earliest penitentiaries as observations were already converted into ‘data’, and one that even then already foreshadowed the extension of panoptic systems to the regulation and control of all areas and levels of life (‘carceral society’, as Foucault describes it, is precisely this deterritorialization of wider society on the prison, and the prison’s deterritorialization on wider society, within the sphere of everyday life, or what Hardt and Negri refer to as ‘biopolitical production’ (Hardt and Negri 2004: xvi)).

We are now at a point where this transformation, at least in terms of information flows , render s the distinction ‘inside vs. outside the prison’ almost useless. Although this development in one sense has made us all prisoners of the surveillance assemblage, it has also made a prisoner of the assemblage itself by threatening to make its operations more transparent and its efforts to profit from information more difficult. It has to set up machines to flee its own capture (encryption, password protection, firewalls, simulation), but those machines are difficult to secure in a networked society where any information refuses to stay locked up for long. As Foucault understood, the techniques of verification developed in the prison are turned back on the prison , which from the beginning becomes the object of public scrutiny and investigation. When these techniques are informated, and then

become widely available to the general population – facilitated by the expansion of electronic networks and growing access to computers – the potential for totalizing control grows, but so does the potential for resistance to that control. Dürrenmatt

imagined contemporary society as an electronic nightmare of surveillance, where everyone observes the observer of the observer, everyone is watched and recorded by everyone else , and the entire system of verification is given up to a network – a network, however, that contains no more privileged points of access or escape, no more hierarchical control of observation, no more panoptic structuring of visibility (Dürrenmatt 1988).

Turn – the surveillant assemblage has brought about a new form of resistance to control – biopolitical production. This has deterritorialized social relations in a way that undermines bipolitical control.Lyon, 6 (David. Directs the Surveillance Studies Centre, is a Professor of Sociology, holds a Queen’s Research Chair and is cross-appointed as a Professor in the Faculty of Law at Queen's University in Kingston, Ontario. Theorizing Surveillance: The Panopticon and beyond. Cullompton, Devon: Willan Pub., 2006. 112-4. Print.)TB

The new ‘common’ , as Hardt and Negri describe it, refers to the hegemony of ‘immaterial production’ in the postmodern global organization of labour (Hardt and Negri 2004: xv). Information networks increasingly order all sectors of production in the global economy – manufacturing, agriculture and services. Hardt and Negri do not argue that production today has somehow become immaterial, or disappeared, but rather that immaterial forces structure and connect very different spheres of production, that these forces have become hegemonic ‘in qualitative terms and have imposed a tendency on other forms of labour and society

itself’, hence the term ‘common’ (Hardt and Negri 2004: 109). Just as 150 years ago economic and social production were organized by the ‘industrial model’ , and all forms of labour had to industrialize even though industry in itself accounted for

only a small proportion of global output, today production is structured by the information sector of the economy despite its size relative to global production as a whole. Immaterial production is the production of ideas, knowledge, communication , affects and social relations , and today ‘labor and society have to informationalize, become intelligent, become

communicative, become affective’ (Hardt and Negri 2004: 109). 4 Ultimately, immaterial production is geared not just to the manufacture of goods or services, but to the production and control of life itself. Hardt and Negri borrow Foucault’s concept of ‘biopower’ to name the form of sovereignty that today rules over the new common (Foucault 1978; Hardt and Negri 2000: 18–25).

Biopower is the negative form of the common . It refers to a production of life that simultaneously threatens the planet with destruction and death (war, ecological catastrophe, the annihilation of species). Hardt and Negri often describe the

rule of biopower as a state of global civil war, governed by exceptionalism and unilateralism in global politics and economics,

highintensity police actions and preemptive strikes, and of course networked surveillance . It is what Virilio has called elsewhere a state of ‘pure war’, or what Baudrillard has referred to as virtual, simulated war (Baudrillard 1995a; Virilio 1997). Whatever its name, the dominant climate of the new common is fear, however broadly that term is defined, accompanied by the need for safety and security (or the absence of risk)

(Beck 1992, 1999). In postmodernity, the need for security replaces defence as the moral justification for global police/surveillance interventions of all kinds, in military matters to be sure, but also in economic, political and cultural affairs, in matters of health, sexuality, education, entertainment, 5 and so on. ‘War’ becomes the common framework through which all problems are recognized and addressed, both in the relation of states to other states, but of states to their own populations as well. In fact, when it comes to the multiplicity of

wars in postmodernity, the old categories of international or intranational conflict no longer apply. The regime of biopower , like the modern system of penality, has no walls and is truly a global form of sovereignty ; it dismantles the old oppositions between public and private spheres, erases the economic and political boundaries between states, and aims at the absolute elimination of risk in advance through the development of sophisticated communications and information gathering and decoding technologies; that is, through networks of surveillance and control. Didier Bigo discusses this at

length in this volume. The new common , however, organized by biopower and subject to the controls of networked surveillance, also has liberatory and democratic potential s, which Hardt and Negri locate in what they call ‘biopolitical production’ , the production of the ‘multitude’ (which for them has replaced industrial labour as the postmodern force

of revolutionary change) (Hardt and Negri 2004). Biopolitical production is not biopower, although it is not the opposite of biopower

either. Both engage the production of life and social relations in their entirety, but in very different ways. Hardt and Negri write, ‘Biopower stands above society, transcendent, as a sovereign authority and imposes its order . Biopolitical production , in contrast, is immanent to society and creates social relations and forms through collaborative forms of labor’ (Hardt and

Negri 2004: 94–5). Biopower is the new form of empire , whereas biopolitical production is the new form of resistance to empire . Both are effects of changes in the organization of production brought about by the advent of postmodern systems of control ; that is, by transformations in the surveillance assemblage and the expansion of information networks. In arguments reminiscent of Marx that the development of the means of global communication creates the potential for the revolutionary organization of labour, they show how global information systems have destabilized not only traditional forms of private property and have cut across class divisions, but also race, gender and other hierarchies, producing a common ‘poverty’ from which new forms of

democratic participation and social creativity can emerge. It is as if biopower , the system of sovereign control supported by global surveillance and the culture of war and fear, had produced the very communicative and geopolitical conditions necessary for the development of a shared humanity . Hardt and Negri are quick to point out, however, that the idea of a new ‘common’ does not imply the sameness of its elements or some transcendent identity standing over society, but rather consists of singularities whose differences constitute a heterogeneous multiplicity capable of spontaneous organization and the power to deconstruct the

global sovereign regime of biopower (Hardt and Negri 2004: 128–9). Today, despite differences of class, race, gender , nation, occupation, language, religion, age, etc., new forms of resistance are arising grounded in the common subjection of the global population to the imperatives of biopower , and its common transformation of labour into a global network of informated production. Ironically, the surveillance assemblage has opened a new de territorialized space of communication that with time may undermine the regime of global biopower . Biopower depends on the control of information, but also on the rhizomatic qualities of networks to facilitate global production and coordinate the global division of labour. These are contradictory ends, but beyond that, they point to a new refuge from power in networks that is absent in

panoptic systems. In the latter, one had to find a space within a confined area where one could hide in plain sight. In the former, one can hide in all the multiplicity of ways information provides, and the possibilities of resistance are greatly expanded .

Impact work

Bioptix turnsBiopower in a DEMOCRATIC government is vital to rights, tolerance, and inclusion—this takes out their all of their impactsDickinson 4 (Edward Ross Dickinson, Associate Professor, History Ph.D., U.C. Berkeley, 2004 “Biopolitics, Fascism, Democracy: Some Reflections on Our Discourse About “Modernity,” Central European History, vol. 37, no. 1, 1–48)

In the Weimar model, then, the rights of the individual, guaranteed formally by the constitution and substantively by the welfare system, were the central element of the dominant program for the management of social problems. Almost no one in this period advocated expanding social provision out of the goodness of their

hearts. This was a strategy of social management, of social engineering. The mainstream of social reform in Germany believed that guaranteeing basic social rights— the substantive or positive freedom of all citizens — was the best way to turn people into power,

prosperity, and profit. In that sense, the democratic welfare state was— and is — democratic not despite of its pursuit of biopower , but because of it. The contrast with the Nazi state is clear. National Socialism aimed to construct a system of social and population policy founded on the concept of individual duties, on the ubiquitous and total power of the state , and on the systematic absorption of every citizen by organizations that could implant that power at every level of their lives — in political and associational life, in the family, in the workplace, and in leisure activities. In the welfarist vision of Weimar progressives, the task of the state was to create an institutional framework that would give individuals the wherewithal to integrate themselves successfully into the national society, economy, and polity. The Nazis aimed, instead, to give the state the wherewithal to do with every citizen what it willed. And where Weimar welfare advocates understood themselves to be constructing a system of knowledge and institutions that would manage social problems, the Nazis fundamentally sought to abolish just that system by eradicating — by finding a “final solution” to — social problems. Again, as Peukert pointed out, many advocates of a rights-based welfare structure were

open to the idea that “stubborn” cases might be legitimate targets for sterilization; the right to health could easily be redefined as primarily a duty to be healthy, for example. But the difference between a strategy of social management built on the rights of the citizen and a system of racial policy built on the total power of the state is not merely a semantic one; such differences had very profound political implications, and established quite different constraints. The rights-based strategy was actually not very compatible with exclusionary and coercive policies ; it relied too heavily on the cooperation of its targets and of armies of volunteers, it was too embedded in a democratic institutional structure and civil society, it lacked powerful legal and institutional instruments of coercion, and its rhetorical structure was too heavily slanted toward inclusion and tolerance.

The purpose of biopower is to improve the health, longevity and happiness of everyoneMika Ojakangas, Helsinki Collegium for Advanced Studies, Finland, May 2005, Foucault Studies, No. 2, p. 18-19

To say that biopower stands outside the law does not yet mean that it outside state power. On the contrary, as we have already noted and as Foucault himself has shown, it was precisely the modern sovereign state that first started to use biopolitical methods extensively for the care of individuals and populations . Undoubtedly, the original purpose of these methods was to increase state power, but its aim has also been, from the beginning, the welfare of the individual and of the entire population , the improvement of their condition , the increase of their wealth, their longevity, health and even happiness 71 – happiness of “all and

everyone” (omnes et singulatim): “The sole purpose of the police”, one of the first institutional loci of the nascent biopower, “is to lead man to the utmost happiness to be enjoyed in this life”, wrote De Lamare in Treaty on the Police at the beginning of the eighteenth century.72 According to Foucault, one should not, however, concentrate only on the modern state in looking for the origin of biopower. One should examine also the religious tradition of the West, especially the Judeo-Christian idea of a shepherd as a political leader of his people.73

Our education is betterTheir claims that philosophical education is universally beneficial are flawed. Make them find evidence specific to Deleuzian education or make them defend teaching Malthus, Nietzsche, and other nihilistic philosophy to young children.

General DnG Case

No Solvency

1nc(War Machine specific) No solvency advocate- No evidence that says that a war machine would actually stop measures of surveillance on social movements. Your only way to solve is to collapse the entire structure of the state

The War Machine fails to make change- micropolitics does not make macro changes and it just gets placed back into the capitalistic system.Dean, 2005 (Jodi Dean, Professor of Political Science at Hobart and William Smith College;“Zizek against democracy,” Law, Culture and the Humanities, Volume 2, Number 2, http://lch.sagepub.com/content/1/2/154.full.pdf//AGY)

Zizek’s three arguments against multiculturalism—its failure to call into question the capitalist economy, its speculative identity with irrational violence, and its preclusion of politicization—can be read in terms of divergences from Connolly, Hardt and Negri, and Deleuze and Guattari. So, not only does Connolly’s emphasis on the pluralization of modes of becoming and Hardt and Negri’s account of a multitude of singularities seek

to open the political terrain beyond an orthodox focus on class antagonism, say, but Deleuze’s and Guattari’s concepts of becoming machine, the communication of affective intensities, and the rhizomatic structures of being and thinking are effectively the ideology of the “netocracy” or digital elite. For Zizek, the fundamental homology between these concepts and networked technoculture decreases their radicality. Furthermore, Zizek’s emphasis on the speculative identity of toleration and irrational violence contrasts with efforts in behalf of an ethos of generosity or critical responsiveness in Connolly’s work. For Zizek, insofar as such an ethos aims to combat and eliminate dogmatic certainty, it rests on precisely that fundament of irrational, contingent attachment it seeks to erase. And, finally, Zizek’s rejection of a multitude of singularities should be read as an alternative to Hardt and Negri. For Zizek, singular positions are not political. They become political through articulation with other struggles and, in this way, are inseparable from the division of the social. Echoing Badiou, moreover, Zizek argues that emphasis on multitude and diversity masks “the underlying monotony of today’s global life.” He writes, “is there anything more monotonous than the Deleuzian poetry of contemporary life as the decentred proliferation of multitudes, of non-totalizable differences? What occludes (and thereby sustains) this monotony is the multiplicity of

resignifications and displacements to which the basic ideological texture is submitted.” The more things change, the more they remain the same. Or, lots of little micro-struggles don’t automatically produce macro-level change. Accordingly, one could say that even though Zizek is an avowed theorist of totality, Deleuze is the totalizing theorist, the theorist whose all

inclusive account of the social cannot account for the division necessary for political struggle. Deleuze, and with him Connolly and Hardt and

Negri, embraces an ethics of affirmation that eliminates negativity from the political. Politics becomes immanent, part of the nature of things, arising as a force both destructive and productive, deterritorializing and territorializing. And all this teaming activity is ultimately inseparable from the flows and intensities circulating through the networks of global capitalist technoculture. Universalization I’ve argued

thus far that Zizek rejects the celebration of diversity insofar as he finds it ultimately embedded in global capital and hence incapable of opening up a space for politics. I’ve mentioned as well his specific criticism of multiculturalism on the grounds that it prevents the universalization necessary for politicization. I move now to look more carefully at Zizek’s account of universalization and how it links up with politics. In a nutshell, for Zizek universalization is the key to politicization: without the claim to universality, there simply is no politics. This rendering of the political is a second primary difference between his position and alternative approaches prominent in Left critical cultural and political theory: for Zizek without division and exclusion there can be no politics.

Movements outside of politics fail and get placed in the capitalistic system by elties.Zizek 2008 (Slavov Zizek, Co-Director of the Institute for Humanities, Birkbeck College, University of London; “Nature and its Discontents,” https://muse.jhu.edu/journals/substance/v037/37.3.zizek.html#back// AGY)

In Venezuela, Hugo Chavez's biggest achievement in the first years of his rule was precisely the politicization (inclusion into

the political life, social mobilization) of slum dwellers; in other countries, they mostly persist in apolitical inertia. It was this political

mobilization of the slum dwellers that saved him from the US-sponsored coup; to the surprise of everyone, Chavez included,

slum dwellers descended to the affluent city center en masse, tipping the balance of power in his favor.

[End Page 42] The course on which Chavez embarked in 2006 is the exact opposite of the postmodern Left's mantra on de-

territorialization, the rejection of statist politics, etc.: far from "resisting to state power," he grabbed power (first by an

attempted coup, then democratically), ruthlessly using the state apparatuses and interventions to promote his goals. Furthermore, he is militarizing favelas, organizing training of armed units there. And, the ultimate scare: now that he is feeling the economic

effects of the "resistance" to his rule of the capital (temporary shortages of some goods in the state-subsidized supermarkets), he has announced the constitution of his own political party! Even some of his allies are skeptical about this move—does it signal

the return to the standard party-state politics? However, one should fully endorse this risky choice: the task is to make this party

function not as a usual (populist or liberal-parliamentary) party, but as a focus for the political mobilization of new forms of politics (like the grass roots slum committees). So what should we say to someone like Chavez? "No, do not grab state power, just subtract yourself, leave the laws of the [State] situation in place"? Chavez is often dismissed as a clownish comedian, but would not such a subtraction reduce him to a new version of Subcomandante Marcos of the Zapatista movement in Mexico, to whom many Leftist refer as

"Subcomediante Marcos"? Today, it is the great capitalists, from Bill Gates to ecological polluters, who "resist" the State… The four features presupposed in the Marxist notion of the proletariat are, of course, grounded in the singular capitalist mechanism; they are four effects of the same structural cause. Perhaps one can even map Cohen's four features that threaten the indefinite self-reproduction of the global capital: "majority" appears as ecology, a topic that concerns us all; "poverty" characterizes those excluded and living in slums; "producing

wealth" is more and more dependent on scientific and technological developments like biogenetics; and, finally, "exploitation" reappears in the impasses of intellectual property, where the owner exploits the results of collective labor. The four features form a kind of semiotic square, the intersecting of two oppositions along the lines of society/nature and inside/outside the social Wall of a new apartheid: ecology designates the outside of nature; slums designate the social outside; biogenetics, the natural inside; and intellectual property, the social inside. Why in this overlapping of the four antagonisms is not the Laclauian empty signifier—("people")—filled in through the struggle for hegemony? Why is it not yet another attempt in the series of the "rainbow coalitions" of oppressed sexual practices, races, religions, etc.? Because we still need a proletarian position, the position of the "part of no-part." In other [End Page 43] words, if one wants an older model, it is rather the good old Communist formula of the alliance of "workers, poor farmers, patriotic small bourgeoisie, and honest intellectuals": note how the four terms are not at the same level—only workers are listed as such, while the other three are qualified

("poor farmers, patriotic small bourgeoisie, honest intellectuals").4 Exactly the same goes for today's four antagonisms: it is the antagonism between the Excluded—the "animals" according to global capital—and the Included—the "political animals" proper, those participating in capitalism—that is the zero-level antagonism, coloring the entire terrain of struggle. Consequently, only those ecologists are included who do not use ecology to legitimize the oppression of the "polluting" poor, trying to discipline Third World countries; only those critics of bio-genetic practices who resist the conservative (religious-humanist) ideology that all too

often sustains this critique; only those critics of intellectual private property who do not reduce the problem to a legalistic issue. There is thus a qualitative difference between the gap that separates the Excluded from the Included and the other three antagonisms, which designate three domains of what Hardt and Negri call "commons," the shared substance of our social being whose privatization is a violent act that should also be resisted with violent means, if necessary. These commons include those of culture, the immediately socialized forms of "cognitive" capital (primarily language), and our means of communication and education. (If Bill Gates were allowed a monopoly, we would have the absurd situation in which a private individual would literally own the software texture our basic network of communication.) "Commons" also include the shared infrastructure of public transport, electricity, post, etc., and the commons of external nature threatened by pollution and exploitation (from oil to forests and natural habitat), as well as the commons of internal nature (the biogenetic inheritance of humanity). What all these struggles share is an awareness of the destructive potential—up to the self-

annihilation of humanity itself—if the capitalist logic of enclosing these commons is allowed a free rein. It is this reference to "commons"—this substance of productivity that is neither private nor public—that justifies the resuscitation of the notion of Communism. Commons can thus be linked to what Hegel, in his Phenomenology, deployed as die Sache, the shared social thing-cause, "the work of all and everyone," the substance kept alive by incessant subjective productivity.5 [End Page 44]

The aff’s rejection of the state dooms them to reproduce the hierarchal structures they critique. Their author concludes neg.Guattari and Rolnik 86 (Felix and Suely, schitzoanalysts and revolutionaries, 1986, “Molecular Revolution in Brazil, p.120-121)

Comment: It's good that you mentioned those homosexuals who worked within the system as lawyers and succeeded in shaking it up. Here,

everyone looks down on the institutional part.¶ Guattari: That's silly.¶ Comment: They think that dealing with the institutional

side is reformism, that it doesn't change anything. As far as they're concerned, the institutions should be ignored because

only one kind of thing is worthwhile, anarchism—which I question deeply. I think it's very naive , as you yourself say, to ignore the state on the basis that "it's useless," or "it oppresses us," and therefore to leave it aside and try to do something totally from outside, as though it might be possible for us to destroy it like that . ¶ Suely Rolnik: This

malaise in relation to institutions is nothing new; on the contrary, the feeling is particularly strong in our generation which, since the 1960s, has taken institutions as one of its main targets. But it's true that the malaise has been especially pronounced in Brazil over the last few years, and in my view this must have to do with an absolutely objective (and obvious) fact, which is the hardness of the dictatorship to which we were subjected for so long. The rigidity of that regime is embodied in all the country's institutions, in

one way or another; in fact, that constituted an important factor for the permanence of the dictatorship in power over so many years.¶ But I think that this antiinstitutional malaise, whatever its cause, doesn't end there: the feeling that the institutions are contaminated territories, and the conclusion that nothing should be invested in them, is often the expression of a defensive role . This kind of sensation is, in my view, the flip side of the fascination with the institution that characterizes the "bureaucratic libido." These two attitudes really satisfy the same need, which is to use the prevailing forms, the instituted, as the sole, exclusive parameter in the organization of oneself and of relations with the other, and

thus avoid succumbing to the danger of collapse that might be brought about by any kind of change. Those are two styles of symbiosis with the institution: either "gluey" adhesion and identification ( those who adopt this style base their

identity on the "instituted"), or else repulsion and counteridentification (those who adopt this style base their identity on negation of the "instituted," as if there were something "outside" the institutions, a supposed "alternative" space to this world).¶ Seen in this light, both " alternativism " and "bureaucratism" restrict themselves to approaching the world from the viewpoint of its forms and representations , from a molar viewpoint; they protect themselves against accessing the molecular plane, where new sensations are being produced and composed and ultimately force the creation of new forms of reality,. They both reflect a blockage of instituting power, an impossibility of surrender to the processes of singularization, a need for conservation of the prevailing forms,

a difficulty in gaining access to the molecular plane, where the new is engendered. It's more difficult, to perceive this in the case of "alternativism," because it involves the hallucination of a supposedly parallel world that ¶ emanates the illusion of unfettered autonomy and freedom of creation; and just when we think we've got away from "squareness" we risk succumbing to it again, in a more disguised form. In this respect, I agree with you: the institutions aren't going to be

changed by pretending that they don't exist. Nonetheless, it's necessary to add two reserves. In the first place, it's obvious that not every social experimentation qualified by the name of "alternative" is marked by this defensive hallucination of a parallel world. And secondly, x it's self-evident that in order to bear the harshness of an authoritarian regime there is a tendency to make believe that itdoesn't exist, so as not to have to enter into contact with sensations of frustration and powerlessness that go beyond the limit of tolerability (indeed, this is a general reaction before any traumatic experience). And in order to survive, people try in so far as possible to create other territories of life, which are often clandestine.

2ncRhisomaticism doesn’t solve – the only solution is over-conformity.Krips, 10 (Henry. Professor of Cultural Studies, Andrew W. Mellon All-Claremont Chair of Humanities at CGU. "The Politics of the Gaze Foucault, Lacan and Žižek." Culture Unbound: Journal of Current Cultural Research CU 2.1 (2010): 91-102. Web. 20 July 2015.)TB

Central to Žižek’s account of the modern state is the concept of “ an obscene underside of the law ”, namely widespread practices – petty tax evasion, speeding, walking on the grass , etc – which , although strictly speaking illicit, are unofficially tolerated. This network of practices is sustained thanks to what Žižek calls an “ideological phantasy” that keeps them an “open secret” – everyone knows about and participates in them in private, but no one mentions them , let alone publicly flaunts participating in them.

Such practices constitute points of failure of the law in so far as they fall in an indeterminate zone in relation to legal

categories: on the one hand, in so far as they are tolerated they are not straightforwardly illegal, but, on the other hand, neither are they legal; and as such, constitute a fundamental illegality at the heart of the legal system. Žižek’s point is

that, rather than undermining the law, the obscene underside of the law sustains it – the law is tolerated because of the little secret pleasures that people derive from its obscene underside. In

Lacanian terms, we may say that the obscene underside of the law is the set of necessary but repressed points of failure of the legal system – in short, it is the symptom of the legal system. In particular, in the context of a legal state apparatus that is held in place by a panoptic system of surveillance, the obscene underside of the law is a liminal zone of high anxiety that , like the Emperor’s body under his new clothes, is obscenely visible to each of his subject s in the privacy of their own visual field, yet must be shrouded in a cloak of invisibility in the public realm. This is the site of the gaze. How are we to oppose such a system , which seemingly coexists with, indeed depends upon its own systematic transgression? According to Žižek,

not by acts of resistance , since the system is readily able to accommodate, indeed depends upon such acts. 6 Instead, Žižek suggests opposition through acts of overconformity , which, rather than protest ing let alone breaking the law, insist upon it to the letter, even when ideological “common sense” suggests otherwise . In particular, this means a refusal to turn a “blind eye” from manifestations of law’s obscene underside. As Žižek puts it: “Sometimes, at least – the truly subversive thing is not to disregard the explicit letter of Law on behalf of the underlying fantasies, but to stick to this letter against the fantasy which sustains it….Is not an exemplary case of such subversion-through-identification provided by Jaroslav Hasek’s The Good Soldier Schweik, the novel whose hero wreaks total havoc by simply executing the orders of his superiors in an overzealous and all-too-

literal way (Žižek 1997: 30, 22, 31). What constitutes such strategies of overconformity in the context of a modern panoptic regime of surveillance? Answer: openly/publicly sticking to the letter of the law by refusing the cloak of invisibility that shrouds the law’s points of failure; in other words, by refusing to

indulge what Žižek calls “the ideological fantasy ”, orchestrating a direct encounter with the objet a qua gaze . To put

it in Žižek’s terms, it is a matter of “ actively endorsing the passive confrontation with the objet a , bypassing the intermediate role of the screen of fantasy ” (Žižek 1997: 31). To be specific, it is matter of not merely saying but also acting out publicly what everyone knows in private but dares not say: not merely announcing in public that the Emperor is naked, but arresting him for indecent exposure. By Lacanianizing Foucault, as I have done here, we are able to understand the logic behind such heterodox strategies for opposing modern regimes of surveillance .

Their affirmation of lines of flight and deterritorialization makes concrete solvency impossible. By constructing a state-war machine dualism, they deter focus from the real, material exploitation in the world.Hallward, 6 (Peter. After working in the French department at King's College London (1999-2004), he joined the Centre for Research in Modern European Philosophy in 2005, when it was based at Middlesex University, and he moved to Kingston with other members of the CRMEP in 2010. Out of This World: Deleuze and the Philosophy of Creation. London: Verso, 2006. 161-62. Print.)TB

Now Deleuze understands perfectly well why ‘most of the objections raised against the great philosophers are empty’. Indignant readers say to them: ‘things are not like that […]. But, in fact, it is not a matter of knowing whether things are like that or not; it is a matter of knowing whether the question which presents things in such a light is good or not, rigorous or not’ (ES, 106). Rather than test its accuracy according to the criteria of representation, ‘the genius of a philosophy must first be measured by the new distribution which it imposes on beings and

concepts’ (LS, 6). In reality then, Deleuze concludes, ‘ only one kind of objection is worthwhile: the objection which shows that the question raised by a philosopher is not a good question’, that it ‘does not force the nature

of things enough’ (ES, 107; cC WP, 82). Deleuze certainly forces the nature of things into conformity with his own question . Just as certainly however, his question inhibits any consequential engagement with the constraints of our actual world . For readers who remain concerned with these con straints and their consequences, Deleuze’s question is not the best available question . Rather than try to refute Deleuze, this book has tried to show how his system works and to draw attention to what should now he the obvious (and perfectly explicit) limitations of this

philosophy of unlimited affirmation. First of all, since it acknowledges only a unilateral relation between virtual and actual, there is no place in Deleuze’s philosophy for any notion of change , time or history that is mediated by actuality In the end, Deleuze offers few resources for thinking the consequences of what happens within the actually

existing world as such. Unlike Darwin or Marx, for instance, the adamantly virtual orientation of Deleuze’s ‘ constructivism’ does not allow him to account for cumulative transformation or novelty in terms of actual materials and tendencies . No doubt few contemporary philosophers have had as an acute a sense of the internal dynamic of capitalism — but equally, few have proposed so elusive a response as the virtual ‘war machine ’ that roams through the pages of Capitalism and Schizophrenia. Like the nomads who invented it, this abstract machine operates at an ‘absolute speed, by being “synonymous with speed”’, as the incarnation of ‘a pure and immeasurable multiplicity; an irruption of the ephemeral and of the power of metamorphosis’ (TP, 336, 352). Like any creating, a war machine consists and ‘exists only in its own

metamorphoses’ (T~ 360). By posing the question of politics in the starkly dualistic terms of war machine or state — by posing it, in the end, in the apocalyptic terms of a new people and a new earth or else no people and no earth — the political aspect of Deleuze ’s philosophy amounts to little more than utopian distraction . Although no small number of

enthusiasts continue to devote much energy and ingenuity to the task, the truth is that Deleuze’s work is essentially indifferent to the politics of this world. A philosophy based on deterritorialisation , dissipation and flight can offer only the most immaterial and evanescent grip on the mechanisms of exploitation and domination that continue to condition so much of what happens in our world . Deleuze’s philosophical war remains ‘absolute’ and ‘abstract’, precisely, rather than directed or ‘waged’ [menee]. Once ‘a social field is defined less by its conflicts and contradictions than by the lines of flight running through it’, any distinctive space for political action can only be subsumed within the more general dynamics of creation or life. And since these dynamics are themselves anti-dialectical if not anti-relational, there can be little room in Deleuze’s philosophy for relations of conflict or solidarity, i.e. relations that are genuinely between rather than external to individuals, classes, or principles.

The War Machine fails because it offers no cohesion. Need to find social change to solve.Hallward 06 (2006; Peter Hallward, Professor of Modern European Philosophy at Kingston University London, specializes in Deleuze, Foucault, Sartre, Badiou, Ranciere; Out of this World: Deleuze and the Philosophy of Creation, Verso London, pg. 162-164// AGY)

Deleuze writes a philosophy of (virtual) difference without (actual) others. He intuits a purely internal or self-differing difference, a difference that excludes any constitutive mediation between the differed. Such a philosophy precludes a distinctively relational conception of politics as a

matter of course. The politics of the future are likely to depend less on virtual mobility tan on more resilient forms of cohesion, on more resistant forms of defence. Rather than align ourselves with the nomadic war machine, our first task should be to develop appropriate ways of responding to the newly aggressive techniques of invasion, penetration and occupation which serve to police the embattled margins of empire. In a perverse twist of fate, it may be that today, in places like Palestine, Haiti, and Iraq, the agents of imperialism have more to learn from Deleuzian rhizomatics than do their opponents. As we have repeatedly seen, the second corollary of Deleuze’s disqualification of actuality concerns the paralysis of the subject or actor. Since what powers Deleuze’s cosmology is the immediate differentiation of creation through the infinite proliferation of virtual creatings, the creatures that actualize these creatings are confined to a derivative if not limiting role. A creature’s own interests, actions or decisions are of minimal or preliminary significance at best: the renewal of creation always requires the paralysis and dissolution of the

creature per se. The notion of a constrained or situated freedom, the notion that a subject’s own decisions might genuine consequences – the whole notion, in short, of strategy – is thoroughly foreign to Deleuze’s conception of thought. Deleuze obliges us, in other words, to make an absolute distinction between what a subject does or decides and what is done or decided through the

subject. By rendering this distinction absolute he abandons the category of the subject altogether. He abandons the decisive subject in favour of our more immediate subjection to the imperatives of creative life or thought.

Deprived of any strategic apparatus, Deleuze’s philosophy thus combines the self-grounding sufficiency of pure force or infinite perfection with our symmetrical limitation to pure contemplation or in-action. On the one hand, Deleuze always maintains that ‘there are never any criteria other than the tenor of existence, the intensification of life’. Absolute life or creation tolerates no norm external to itself. The creative movement that orients us out of the world does not depend on a transcendent value beyond the world. After Spinoza, after Nietzsche, Deleuze rejects all forms of moral evaluation or strategic judgment. Every instance of decision, every confrontation with the question ‘what should we do?’, is to be resolved exclusively in terms of what we can do. An individual’s power or capacity is also its ‘natural right’, and the answer to the question of what an individual or body should do is again simplicity itself – it should go and will always go ‘as far as it can’ (WP, 74; EP, 258). But on the other hand, we know that an individual can only do this because its power is

not that of the individual itself. By doing what it can, an individual only provides a vessel for the power that works through it, and which alone acts – or rather, which alone is. What impels u to ‘persevere in our being’ has nothing to do with us as such. So

when, in the conclusion of their last joint project, Deleuze and Guattari observe the ‘vitalism has always had two possible

interpretations’, it is not surprising that they should opt for the resolutely in-active interpretation. Vitalism, they explain, can be conceived either in terms of ‘an Idea that acts but is not, and that acts therefore only from the point of view of an external cerebral

knowledge; or of a force that is but does not act, and which is therefore a pure internal Feeling [Sentir]’.

Deleuze and Guattari embrace this second interpretation, they choose Leibnizian being over Kantian act, precisely because

it disables action in favour of contemplation. It suspends any relation between a living and the lived, between a knowing and the know, between a creating and the created. They embrace it because what feeling ‘preserves is always in a state of detachment in relation to action and even to movement, and appears as a pure contemplation without knowledge’. As Deleuze understands, living contemplation proceeds at an immeasurable distance from what is merely lived, known or decided. Life lives and creation creates on a virtual plane that leads

forever out of our actual world. Few philosophers have been as inspiring as Deleuze. But those of us who still seek to change our world and to empower its inhabitants will need to look for our inspiration elsewhere.

The War Machine causes singularity- takes movements out of politics which is key to solve.Somers-Hall 07 (2007; Henry Somers-Hall, Professor of Philosophy at Royal Holloway at Universty of London; “The Politics of Creation,” http://www2.warwick.ac.uk/fac/soc/philosophy/people/formerresearchstudents/henry-somers-hall/the_politics_of_creation-henry_somers-hall.pdf// AGY)

Peter Hallward’s study of Deleuze aims “to go right to the heart of [his] philosophy”2 through the charting of one “broadly consistent course”, that of the implications of Deleuze’s presumption that Being is creativity. In charting such a course, Hallward is able indeed to provide what is a thorough and consistent interpretation of the work of Deleuze, showing admirable familiarity with both bibliographical and thematic aspects of the Deleuzian system. In asserting that there is an essentially stable project throughout Deleuze’s philosophical development, Hallward draws on the full resources of Deleuze’s writing across (almost) all major domains, and there is certainly some truth to his claim that the guiding theme of Deleuze’s philosophy is creativity. If philosophy is to be seen as the creation of concepts, surely our primary task is to unravel the

concept of creation. In performing this task of identifying both conceptual slippages and continuities between the various terms and periods of Deleuze’s writings, Hallward is indeed able to present the work of Deleuze as providing a coherent interpretation of Being. In doing so, Peter Hallward rejects an explanation of Deleuze’s system based on the parallels with modern scientific models, instead rightly resituating Deleuze within the tradition of philosophy. Fundamental to this is the recognition of the importance of Bergson as a key precursor, which means that Hallward does not fall into the trap of interpreting Deleuze as a thinker of the multiple through a false reading of Deleuzian difference as diversity. In his interpretation of Deleuze, however, Hallward displays a degree of hostility to what he takes to be both the aims and the consequences of Deleuze’s ontology. In his focus on creation, which ‘precedes’ the individual itself as differentiated, Hallward will argue, Deleuze is only able to fulfil his magical formula, “PLURALISM = MONISM”3 by subordinating the organism to the process of creation itself. This is because creation, which generates the plurality which Deleuze wishes on the surface to take account of, cannot itself partake in this plurality, for to do so would be to reduce creation to pure actuality itself, and the actual, Hallward argues, is not real. The task of the organism, if we are to follow Deleuze, is therefore to “recapture in individual existences, and follow to the source from which it emanates, the particular ray that, conferring upon each of them its own nuance, reattaches it thereby to the universal light.”4 This process, which Hallward characterises through the idea of subtraction, is the key to a new relation between the fields of philosophy, science, and art. Whilst art “dilates our perception,”5 opening us up to the possibility of experiencing the virtuality of the world, its effect can only be negative. As the work of Francis Bacon shows, the aim of art may be to paint forces, but ultimately this can only be achieved through the trace which is left on the canvas. “Art ‘enriches our present but scarcely enables us to go beyond it’ into the virtual continuity of time as a continuous whole.”6 Art is thus this process of following to the source our own individual existences. To move beyond this, however, we require philosophy, the “smile without the cat, as it were.”7 On

Hallward’s reading, it is philosophy’s aim to extract from the state of affairs the pure (virtual) event, and thus to sever ties with actuality altogether. In this move, philosophy becomes mysticism, “fully spiritualised and dematerialised,”8 and thus a moment of pure affirmation. Reliant on this movement are all of the positive traits of Deleuze’s philosophy,9

but this also leads to one particular trait which makes Deleuze’s position politically absolutely untenable.

The move to a philosophy of the virtual means a move to a philosophy of absolute affirmation, within which the political action of the creature in the face of oppression no longer has meaning. One escapes the

world through a line of flight which takes ‘one’ (if this term can still find any applicability) to the extra-worldly. The consequences of this for political action seem devastating for Hallward. On the one hand, any idea of such a thing as solidarity, or even opposition, seems to become impossible. If our aim is to return to the universal light (or even simply if there is such a universal light), then the possibility of either of these stances, which rely on our relations as creatures to other creatures, becomes impossible.

The singularity of creation obscures the possibility of any kind of difference between things, as all things are

really one, making relation impossible. Instead, we simply have difference differenciating itself. Action is dissolved in the whole. “By doing what it can, an individual only provides a vessel for the power that works through it, which alone acts – or rather, which alone is. What impels us to ‘persevere in our being’ has nothing to do with us as such.”10

What this makes problematic is any kind of genuine engagement with concrete political situations, at a time when such an engagement is clearly called for. Instead of this, on Hallward’s reading, Deleuze is arguing that one should move to pure contemplation of the world. “The real preoccupation of [Hallward’s] book concerns the value of this advice.”11

Fail to make actual change- their authors keep the dialogue going only to make sure change does not occur.Zizek 02 (2002; Slavoj Zizek; “The Prospects of Radical Politics Today,” in: Documenta11_platform1: Democracy Unrealized. Hatje Cantz. p. 67-85. English; http://www.egs.edu/faculty/slavoj-zizek/articles/the-prospects-of-radical-politics-today///AGY)

Let us take two predominant topics of today's American radical academia: postcolonial and queer (gay) studies. The problem of postcolonialism

is undoubtedly crucial; however, "postcolonial studies" tend to translate it into the multiculturalist problematic of the colonized minorities' "right to narrate" their victimizing experience, of the power mechanisms which repress "otherness," so that, at the end of the day, we learn that the root of postcolonial exploitation is our intolerance toward the Other, and, furthermore, that this intolerance itself is rooted in our intolerance toward the "Stranger in

Ourselves," in our inability to confront what we repressed in and of ourselves. The politico-economic strug gle is thus imperceptibly transformed into a pseudo-psychoanalytic drama of the subject unable to confront its inner traumas ... The true corruption of American academia is not primarily financial, it is not only that they are able to buy many

European critical intellectuals (myself included – up to a point), but conceptual: notions of "European" critical theory are imperceptibly

translated into the benign universe of Cultural Studies chic. My personal experience is that practically all of the "radical" academics silently count on the long-term stability of the American capitalist model, with the secure tenured

position as their ultimate professional goal (a surprising number of them even play on the stock market). If there is a thing they are genuinely horrified of, it is a radical shattering of the (relatively) safe life environment of the "symbolic classes" in the developed

Western societies. Their excessive Politically Correct zeal when dealing with sexism, racism, Third World sweatshops,

etc., is thus ultimately a defense against their own innermost identification, a kind of compulsive ritual whose hidden logic is: "Let's talk as much as possible about the necessity of a radical change to make sure that nothing will really change!" Symptomatic here is the journal October: when you ask one of the editors to what the title refers, they will half-confidentially signal that it is, of course, that October – in this way, one can indulge in the jargonistic analyses of modern art, with the hidden assurance that one is somehow retaining the link with the radical revolutionary past ... With regard to this radical chic, the first gesture toward Third Way ideologists and practitioners should be that of praise: they at least play their game straight and are honest in their acceptance of global capitalist coordinates, in contrast to the pseudo-radical academic Leftists who adopt toward the Third Way the attitude of utter disdain, while their own radicality ultimately amounts to an empty gesture which obligates no one to anything determinate.

War Machine Impact Turn

1ncWar Machine causes total extinction. Lambert 10 (Gregg Lambert, Professor of Humanities and Founding Director of the Humanities Centre at Syracuse University; “The War Machine and ‘a people who revolt,’” Theory & Event 13.3, http://muse.jhu.edu/journals/theory_and_event/v013/13.3.lambert.html// AGY)

In conclusion, I will risk providing my own perspective on this question, which will take the form of a hypothesis concerning two areas of future research or lines of inquiry. According to the earlier statement quoted above, there is one point of view where the difference between the two poles is greatest: death. In other words, it is by inhabiting this perspective that one might introduce a maximal difference in order to separate violence from violence, in order to cause something to appear. As Deleuze and Guattari speculate, this something = x would have to do with what they call the “incommensurable character of the quantities that confront one another in the two kinds of warmachines.” 39 In order to occupy the perspective or “point of view” of death, as if staring out from death’s own eyes, one line of

research would be to continue to analyze the exceptional figures that Deleuze and Guattari themselves privilege. On the one hand, there is Ahab, and death is equal to the vision of a white wall and the Nothingness beyond. To this image corresponds the specific death produced by one kind of war-machine: pure destruction, extermination, genocidal extinction. “Nothingness, Nothingness!”40 Historically speaking, human societies have created a dizzying number of manners of producing death. It is in this area that our species is exceptionally creative—much more so than prodigious Nature herself. Here, I recall a line from Camus who once said that if one has difficultly imagining the death caused by a plague, one only has to think of an audience in a movie theater being piled up in the

town square. Nowadays, such quantities are not so difficult to imagine! With the development of late-Capitalist societies, we have created a kind of death that is aimed at entire populations. This is the death created by the technological advancement of the war-machine of the first kind: total extermination, absolute extinction, the production of nearly infinite quantities along a scale that corresponds to final stage universal Capitalism.

The natural tendency of the state is toward stability. The aff’s method of deterritorialization is inextricably linked to violence and fascism.Bogue, 7 (Ronald. Distinguished Research Professor and a Josiah Meigs Distinguished Teaching Professor @ University of Georgia. Deleuze's Way: Essays in Transverse Ethics and Aesthetics. Aldershot, England: Ashgate, 2007. 50-51. Print.)TB

D eleuze and G uattari also say that the body without organs may function as a "war machine ," and here especially we see highlighted the dangerous relation deterritorialization may have With violence. Deleuze and Guattari posit a fundamental opposition between nomadic and sedentary modes of social life, to which correspond respectively the institutions Of the war machine and the apparatus Of the State . Commonly, war is taken to be a state function, but Deleuze and Guattari argue that the informing principle Of war , that Of a mutative, chaotic force Of transformation (and this is What they mean by the term machine"), is antithetical to the state, and that the history of state-sponsored violence is one of an uneasy and perpetually unstable capture Of this force Of transformation. They note that in Indo-European mythology the warrior frequently is contrasted with such state figures as the king, lawgiver, or priest, the

warrior Often betraying social alliances and operating as an anarchic locus of unpredictable action. They see this mythic opposition Of warrior versus king/lawgiver/priest as symptomatic of an opposition of two modes Of existence, each with its Own means Of creating, inhabiting and propagating a specific "space," one "smooth," the other "striated." Smooth space is essentially fluid, heterogeneous, without center Or dimensional coordinates, whereas striated space is stable, homogeneous and crisscrossed with organizational grids. The nomads' smooth habitat of shifting desert sands, for example, differs qualitatively from the striated fields of the sedentary state dwellers. Yet this contrast of smooth and striated spaces, though initially framed in geographic terms, Deleuze and Guattari extend in a number Of ways, to include different artifacts (felt vs fabric), different kinds of time (unpulsed rhythm vs pulsed meter), different forms of thought (nomad science vs royal science, fractal geometry vs Euclidean geometry), different approaches to the arts (Egyptian,

Gothic or Byzantine art vs Greco-Roman art) and so on. Ultimately, the "war machine" is simply a term for the metamorphic force of deterritorialization , and "smooth space" the name Of the body without organs, Or plane of consistency, created and permeated by that metamorphic force. As Deleuze explains in an interview on A Thousand Plateaus: We define the "war machine" as a linear assemblage which constructs itself on lines of flight. In this sense, the war machine

does not at all have war as its object; it has as its object a very special space, smooth space, which it composes, occupies and propagates. ,VomcuiL€m is precisely this combination "war machine-smooth space." We try to show how and in what case the war machine takes war for its object (when the apparatuses Of the State appropriate the war machine which does not initially belong to them). A war machine tends to be revolutionary, or artistic, much more so than military. CPP SO—S 1/331 The war machine does not have war as its object, yet still it is called the war machine, and though its function is primarily revolutionary or artistic, its name is inseparable from a military domain.

What D eleuze and G uattari reinforce through this term is the problematic relation between deterritorializing metamorphosis and violence , which, as we have seen, they also frame in terms of the body without organs and its dangerous doubles, the suicidal and cancerous bodies without organs. The dangers of constructing a body without organs are dangers of violence, risks that a creative, metamorphic war machine will turn into a veritable machine of war, a negative force bent solely on destruction. It is striking how frequently images Of war, especially Of an apocalyptic sort, appear in the lyrics of death and black metal (and occasionally doom as well). Often the persona in death and black metal songs adopts the pose of a warrior and espouses an ethos of unrestrained destruction. The warriors imagined in these songs, however, are not representatives Of an organized military regime but embodiments Of an anarchic force Of chaos. They inhabit a space outside the regular order of any state

apparatus and serve as mythic figures of a dimension of unrestrained social upheaval. What this recurring imagery Of warriors, battlefields and Armageddon suggests , finally, is that the music of death, doom and black metal is a war machine ever becoming machine Of war, a machine Of war perpetually turning back into a war machine, a music focused on the perilous relation between ecstatic deterritorialization and suicidal or fascistic annihilation.

2ncTurn – Deleuze’s war machine is itself violent.Zizek 7 (Slavoj, U of Ljubljana, Mao Zedong: the Marxist Lord of Misrule, Lacan.com, http://www.lacan.com/zizmaozedong.htm)

There IS thus, beyond all cheap jibes and superficial analogies, a profound structural homology between the Maoist permanent self-revolutionizing, the permanent struggle against the ossification of State structures, and the inherent dynamics of capitalism. One is tempted to paraphrase here Brecht, his "What is the robbing of a bank compared to the founding of a new bank?", yet again: what are the violent and destructive outbursts of a Red Guardist caught in the Cultural Revolution compared to the true Cultural Revolution, the permanent dissolution of all life-forms necessitated by the capitalist reproduction? It is the reign of today's global capitalism which is the true Lord of Misrule. No wonder, then, that, in order to curb the excess of social disintegration caused by the capitalist explosion, Chinese officials not celebrate religions and traditional ideologies which sustain social stability, from Buddhism to Confucianism, i.e., the very ideologies that were the target of the Cultural Revolution. In April 2006, Ye Xiaowen, China's top religious official, told the Xinhua News Agency that "religion is one of the important forces from which China draws strength," and he singled out Buddhism for its 'unique role in promoting a harmonious society," the official formula for combining economic expansion with social development and care; the same week, China hosted the World Buddhist Forum. [27] The role of religion as the force of stability against the capitalist dynamics is thus officially sanctioned - what is bothering Chinese authorities in the case of sects like Falun Gong is merely their independence from the state control. (This is why one should also reject the argument that Cultural Revolution strengthened socialist attitudes among the people and thus helped to curb the worst disintegrative excesses of today's capitalist development: quite on the contrary, by undermining traditional stabilizing ideologies like Confucianism, it rendered the

people all the more vulnerable to the destabilizing effects of capitalism.) This capitalist reappropriation of the revolutionary dynamics is not without its comic side-effects. It was recently made public that, in order to conceptualize the IDF urban warfare against the Palestinians, the IDF military academies systematically refer to Deleuze and Guattari, especially to Thousand Plateaux, using it as "operational theory " - the catchwords used are "Formless Rival

Entities", "Fractal Manoeuvre", "Velocity vs. Rhythms", "The Wahabi War Machine", "Postmodern Anarchists", "Nomadic Terrorists". One of the key distinctions they rely on is the one between "smooth" and "striated" space, which reflect the organizational concepts of the "war machine " and the "state apparatus". The IDF now often uses the term "to smooth out space" when they want to refer to operation in a space as if it had no borders. Palestinian areas are thought of as "striated" in the sense that they are enclosed by fences, walls, ditches, road blocks and so on: The attack conducted by units of the IDF on the city of Nablus in April 2002

was described by its commander, Brigadier-General Aviv Kokhavi, as "inverse geometry", which he explained as "the reorganization of the urban syntax by means of a series of micro-tactical actions". During the battle soldiers moved within the city across hundreds of metres of overground tunnels carved out through a dense and contiguous urban structure. Although several thousand soldiers and Palestinian guerrillas were manoeuvring simultaneously in the city, they were so "saturated" into the urban fabric that very few would have been visible from the air. Furthermore, they used none of the city's streets, roads, alleys or courtyards, or any of the external doors, internal stairwells and windows, but moved horizontally through walls and vertically through holes blasted in ceilings and floors. This form of movement, described by the military as "infestation", seeks to redefine inside as outside, and domestic interiors as thoroughfares.

The IDF's strategy of "walking through walls" involves a conception of the city as not just the site but also the very medium of warfare "a flexible, almost liquid medium that is forever contingent and in flux . [28] So what does it follow from all this? Not, of course, the nonsensical accusation of Deleuze and Guattari as theorists of militaristic colonization - but

the conclusion that the conceptual machine articulated by Deleuze and Guattari, far from being simply "subversive," also fits the (military, economic, and ideologico-political) operational mode of today's capitalism . - How, then, are we to revolutionize an order whose very principle is constant self- revolutionizing? This, perhaps, is THE question today, and this is the way one should REPEAT Mao, re-inventing his message to the hundreds of millions of the anonymous downtrodden, a simple and touching message of courage: "Bigness is nothing to be afraid of. The big will be overthrown by the small. The small will become big." The same message of courage sustains also Mao's (in)famous stance towards a new atomic world war: We stand firmly for peace and against war. But if the imperialists insist on unleashing another war, we should not be afraid of it. Our attitude on this question is the same as our attitude towards any disturbance: first, we are against it; second, we are not afraid of it. The First World War was followed by the birth of the Soviet Union with a population of 200 million. The Second World War was followed by the emergence of the socialist camp with a combined population of 900 million. If the imperialists insist on launching a third world war, it is certain that several hundred million more will turn to socialism, and then there will not be much room left on earth for the imperialists.

War Machine creates violence.Deleuze and Guattari 1987 (Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari; A Thousand Plateus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia, http://projectlamar.com/media/A-Thousand-Plateaus.pdf//AGY)

We now come to three successive problems. First, is the battle the "object" of war? But also, is war the "object" of the war machine? And finally, to what extent is the war machine the "object" of the State appara- tus? The ambiguity of the first two problems is certainly due to the term "object," but implies their dependency on the third. We must nevertheless approach these problems gradually, even if we are reduced to multiplying examples. The first question, that of the battle, requires an immediate dis- tinction to be made between two cases: when a battle is sought, and when it is essentially avoided by the war machine. These two cases in no way coin- cide with the offensive and the defensive. But war in the strict sense (according to a conception of it that culminated in Foch) does seem to have the battle as its object, whereas guerrilla warfare explicitly aims for the nonbattle. However, the development of war into the war of movement, and into total war, also places the notion of the battle in question, as much from the offensive as the defensive points of view: the concept of the nonbattle seems capable of expressing the speed of a flash attack, and the counterspeed of an immediate response.104 Conversely, the development of guerilla warfare implies a moment when, and forms under which, a bat- tle must be effectively sought, in connection with exterior and interior "support points." And it is true that guerrilla warfare and war proper are constantly borrowing each other's methods and that the borrowings run equally in both directions (for example, stress has often been laid on the inspirations land-based guerrilla warfare received from maritime war). All we can say is that the battle and the nonbattle are the double object of war, according to a criterion that does not coincide with the offensive and the defensive, or even with war proper and guerrilla warfare. That is why we push the question further back, asking if war itself is the object of the war machine. It is not at all obvious. To the extent that war (with or without the battle) aims for the annihilation or capitulation of enemy

forces, the war machine does not necessarily have war as its object (for example, the raid can be seen as another object, rather than as a partic- ular form of war). But more generally, we have seen that the war machine was the invention of the nomad, because it is in its essence the constitutive element of smooth space, the occupation of this space, displacement within this space, and the corresponding composition of people: this is its sole and veritable positive object (nomos). Make the desert, the steppe, grow; do not

depopulate it, quite the contrary. If war necessarily results, it is because the war machine collides with States and cities, as forces (of stri-ation) opposing its positive object: from then on, the war machine has as its enemy the State, the city,

the state and urban phenomenon, and adopts as its objective their annihilation. It is at this point that the war machine becomes war: annihilate the forces of the State, destroy the State-form. The Attila, or Genghis Khan, adventure clearly illustrates this progression from

the positive object to the negative object. Speaking like Aristotle, we would say that war is neither the condition nor the object of the war machine, but necessarily accompanies or completes it; speaking like Derrida, we would say that

war is the "supplement" of the war machine. It may even happen that this supplementarity is comprehended through a progressive, anxiety-ridden revelation. Such, for example, was the adven- ture of Moses: leaving the Egyptian State behind, launching into the desert, he begins by forming a war machine, on the inspiration of the old past of the nomadic Hebrews and on the advice of his father-in-law, who came from the nomads. This is the machine of the Just, already a war machine, but one that does not yet have war as its object. Moses

realizes, little by lit- tle, in stages, that war is the necessary supplement of that machine, because it encounters or must cross cities and States, because it must send ahead spies (armed observation), then perhaps take things to extremes (war of annihilation). Then the Jewish people experience doubt, and fear that they are not strong enough; but Moses also doubts, he shrinks before the revela- tion of this

supplement. And it will be Joshua, not Moses, who is charged with waging war. Finally, speaking like Kant, we would say that the relation between war and the war machine is necessary but "synthetic" (Yahweh is necessary for the synthesis). The question of war, in turn, is pushed further back and is subordinated to the relations between the war machine and the State apparatus.

States were not the first to make war: war, of course, is not a phenomenon one finds in the universality of Nature, as nonspecific

violence. But war is not the object of States, quite the contrary. The most archaic States do not even seem to have had a war machine, and their domination, as we will see, was based on other agencies (comprising, rather, the police and prisons). It is safe to assume that the intervention of an extrinsic or nomad war machine that counterattacked and destroyed the archaic but powerful States was one of the mysterious reasons for their sudden annihilation. But the State learns fast. One of the biggest questions from the point of view of universal history is: How will the State appropriate the war machine, that is, consti- tute one for itself, in conformity with its size, its domination, and its aims? And with what risks? (What we call a military institution, or army, is not at all the war machine in itself, but the form under which it is appropriated by the State.) In order to grasp the paradoxical character of such an undertak- ing, we must recapitulate the

hypothesis in its entirety. (1) The war machine is that nomad invention that in fact has war not as its primary object but as its second-order, supplementary or synthetic objective, in the sense that it is determined in such a way as to destroy the State-form and city-form with which it collides. (2) When the State appropriates the war machine, the latter obviously changes in nature and function, since it is afterward directed against the nomad and all State destroyers, or else expresses relations between States, to the extent that a State undertakes exclusively to destroy another State or impose its aims upon it. (3) It is pre- cisely after the war machine has been appropriated by the State in this way that it tends to take war for its direct and primary object, for its "analytic" object (and that war tends to

take the battle for its object). In short, it is at one and the same time that the State apparatus appropriates a war machine, that the war machine takes war as its object, and that war be- comes subordinated to the aims of the State.

Israeli Defense Forces Turn

1ncThe IDF’s use of the war machine causes massive structural violence and oppression. Weizman 2006 (Eyal Weizman, Israeli intellectual who is a professor of Spatial and Visual Cultures at Goldsmiths, University of London; “The Art of War: Deleuze, Guattari, Debord, and The Israeli Defence Force,” http://www.metamute.org/editorial/articles/art-war-deleuze-guattari-debord-and-israeli-defence-force//AGY)

Kokhavi’s intention in the battle was to enter the city in order to kill members of the Palestinian resistance and then get out. The horrific frankness of these objectives, as recounted to me by Shimon Naveh, Kokhavi’s instructor, is part of a general Israeli policy that seeks to disrupt Palestinian resistance on political as well as military levels through targeted assassinations from both air and ground. If you still believe, as the IDF would like you to, that moving through walls is a relatively gentle form of warfare, the following description of the sequence of events might change your mind.

To begin with, soldiers assemble behind the wall and then, using explosives, drills or hammers, they break a hole large enough to pass through. Stun grenades are then sometimes thrown, or a few random shots fired into what is usually

a private living-room occupied by unsuspecting civilians. When the soldiers have passed through the wall, the occupants are locked inside one of the rooms, where they are made to remain – sometimes for several days – until the operation is concluded, often without

water, toilet, food or medicine. Civilians in Palestine, as in Iraq, have experienced the unexpected penetration of war into the private domain of the home as the most profound form of trauma and humiliation. A Palestinian

woman identified only as Aisha, interviewed by a journalist for the Palestine Monitor, described the experience: ‘Imagine it – you’re sitting in your living-room, which you know so well; this is the room where the family watches television together after the evening meal, and suddenly that wall disappears with a deafening roar, the room fills with dust and debris, and through the wall pours one soldier after the other, screaming orders. You have no idea if they’re after you, if they’ve come to take over your home, or if your house just lies on their route to somewhere else. The children are screaming, panicking. Is it possible to even begin to imagine the horror experienced by a five-year-old child as four, six, eight, 12 soldiers, their faces painted black, sub-machine-guns pointed everywhere, antennas protruding from their backpacks, making them look like giant alien bugs, blast their way through that wall?’[3] Naveh, a retired Brigadier-General, directs the Operational Theory Research Institute, which trains staff officers from the IDF and other militaries in ‘operational theory’ – defined in military jargon as somewhere between strategy and tactics. He summed up the mission of his institute, which was founded in 1996: ‘We are like the Jesuit Order. We attempt to teach and train soldiers to think. […] We read Christopher Alexander, can you imagine?; we read John Forester, and other architects. We are reading Gregory Bateson; we are reading Clifford Geertz. Not myself, but our soldiers, our generals are reflecting on these kinds of materials. We have established a school and developed a curriculum that trains “operational

architects”.’[4] In a lecture Naveh showed a diagram resembling a ‘square of opposition’ that plots a set of logical

relationships between certain propositions referring to military and guerrilla operations. Labelled with phrases such as ‘Difference and Repetition – The

Dialectics of Structuring and Structure’, ‘Formless Rival Entities’, ‘Fractal Manoeuvre’, ‘Velocity vs. Rhythms’, ‘The Wahabi War Machine’, ‘Postmodern Anarchists’ and ‘Nomadic Terrorists’, they often reference the work of Deleuze and Guattari. War machines, according to the philosophers, are polymorphous; diffuse organizations characterized by their capacity for metamorphosis, made up of small groups that split up or merge with one another, depending on contingency and circumstances. (Deleuze and Guattari were aware that the state can willingly transform itself into a war machine. Similarly, in their

discussion of ‘smooth space’ it is implied that this conception may lead to domination.) I asked Naveh why Deleuze and Guattari were so popular with the Israeli military. He replied that ‘several of the concepts in A Thousand Plateaux became instrumental for us […] allowing us to explain contemporary situations in a way that we could not have otherwise. It problematized our own paradigms. Most important was the distinction they have pointed out between the concepts of “smooth” and “striated” space [which accordingly reflect] the organizational concepts of the “war machine” and the “state apparatus”. In the IDF we now often use the term “to smooth out space” when we want to refer to operation in a space as if it had no borders. […] Palestinian areas

could indeed be thought of as “striated” in the sense that they are enclosed by fences, walls, ditches, roads blocks and so on.’[5] When I asked him if moving through walls was part of it, he explained that, ‘In Nablus the IDF understood urban fighting as a spatial problem. [...] Travelling through walls is a simple mechanical solution that connects theory and practice.’[6]

2ncThe Israeli Defense Forces uses the War Machine. Lambert 10 (Gregg Lambert, Professor of Humanities and Founding Director of the Humanities Centre at Syracuse University; “The War Machine and ‘a people who revolt,’” Theory & Event 13.3, http://muse.jhu.edu/journals/theory_and_event/v013/13.3.lambert.html// AGY)

In saying this, of course, I realize that this last association has become extremely inconvenient today in relation to the image of the suicide bomber, the member of an anomalous and nomadic band, who walks into a public square to explode his own organs precisely in an effort, it

seems, to ward off the State form. Equally problematic are the recent reports of Deleuze and Guattari’s concept of the war-machine being employed by the IDF as a manual for counter-insurgency and counter-terrorist strategy. One of the most perverse ironies is that in their “appropriation” of Deleuze and Guattari’s theory (but also that of Guy

Debord), is the IDF’s “complete identification” with the principle of exteriority that is actually ascribed to the nomadic war-machine. In this regard, perversion bears the Hegelian meaning of “inversion” (verkerht),

described by Brigadier-General Aviv Kokhavi, as an “inverse geometry,” or “the reorganization of the urban syntax by

means of a series of micro-tactical actions.” The inversion or reversal represented in this tactic is that it is the IDF that defines itself as a war-machine that is always external to the Palestinian State Apparatus (Beirut), which is itself defined as a striated space of alleyways, doorways, windows (the various traps created by normal spatial thinking). Consequently, from this “positive discovery” they develop three major axioms of counter-insurgency: doors are not for entering or leaving, windows are not for looking through; instead, move only through the walls. Palestinian areas could indeed be thought of as “striated” in the sense that they are enclosed by fences, walls, ditches, road blocks and so on.’10 However, what is revealing, albeit problematic, in the IDF’s complete identification with the principle of exteriority that belongs to the war machine is this: the overall objective of the IDF is not consistent with the goals of State Power traditionally defined as

extending a line of domination through the protection and replenishment of the organs of State power. Rather, the tactical objectives are purely aligned with the goals of the war-machine: to destroy the organs of State Power, to deny to the Palestinian State Form its ability to replenish its own organs, to “create a little smooth space” in the middle of Beirut, to “de-territorialize” Lebanon.

Nomadology Turn

1ncNomadology turn- Nomads are futile- affirming the Nomad and war machine creates an inherent dialectic that creates no change.Mann 95 (1995; Paul Mann, Professor of English at Pomona College; “Stupid Undergrounds,” http://pmc.iath.virginia.edu/text-only/issue.595/mann.595//AGY)

Intellectual economics guarantees that even the most powerful and challenging work cannot protect itself from the order of fashion. Becoming-

fashion, becoming-commodity, becoming-ruin. Such instant, indeed retroactive ruins, are the virtual landscape of the stupid underground. The exits and lines of flight pursued by Deleuze and Guattari are being shut down and rerouted by the very people who would take them most seriously. By now, any given work from the stupid underground's critical apparatus is liable to be tricked out with smooth spaces, war-machines, n - 1s, planes

of consistency, plateaus and deterritorializations, strewn about like tattoos on the stupid body without organs. The nomad is already succumbing to the rousseauism and orientalism that were always invested in his figure; whatever Deleuze and Guattari intended for him, he is reduced to being a romantic outlaw, to a position opposite the State, in the sort of dialectical operation Deleuze most despised. And the rhizome is becoming just another stupid subterranean figure. It is perhaps true that Deleuze and Guattari did not adequately protect their thought from this dialectical reconfiguration (one is reminded of Breton's indictment against Rimbaud for not having prevented, in advance, Claudel's recuperation of him as

a proper Catholic), but no vigilance would have sufficed in any case. The work of Deleuze and Guattari is evidence that, in real time, virtual models and maps close off the very exits they indicate. The problem is in part that rhizomes, lines of flight,

smooth spaces, BwOs, etc., are at one and the same time theoretical-political devices of the highest critical order and merely fantasmatic, delirious, narcissistic models for writing, and thus perhaps an instance of the all-too-proper

blurring of the distinction between criticism and fantasy. In Deleuze-speak, the stupid underground would be mapped not as a margin surrounding a fixed point, not as a fixed site determined strictly by its relation or opposition to some more or less hegemonic formation,

but as an intensive, n-dimensional intersection of rhizomatic plateaus. Nomadology and rhizomatics conceive such a "space" (if one only had the proverbial nickel for every time that word is used as a critical metaphor, without the slightest reflection

on what might be involved in rendering the conceptual in spatial terms) as a liquid, colloidal suspension, often retrievable by one or another techno-metaphorical zoning (e.g., "cyberspace"). What is at stake, however, is not only the topological verisimilitude of the model but the *fantastic* possibility of nonlinear passage, of multiple simultaneous accesses and exits, of infinite fractal lines occupying finite social space. In

the strictest sense, stupid philosophy. Nomad thought is prosthetic, the experience of virtual exhilaration in modalities already mapped and dominated by nomad, rhizomatic capital (the political philosophy of the stupid

underground: capital is more radical than any of its critiques, but one can always pretend otherwise). It is this very fantasy, this very narcissistic wish to see oneself projected past the frontier into new spaces, that abandons one to this economy, that seals these spaces within an order of critical fantasy that has long since been overdeveloped, entirely

reterritorialized in advance. To pursue nomadology or rhizomatics as such is already to have lost the game.

Nothing is more crucial to philosophy than escaping the dialectic and no project is more hopeless; the stupid-critical underground is the curved space in which this opposition turns back on itself. It is not yet time to abandon work that so deeply challenges our intellectual habits as does that of Deleuze and Guattari, and yet, before it has even been comprehended, in the very process of its

comprehension, its fate seems secure. One pursues it and knows that the pursuit will prove futile; that every application of these new topologies will only serve to render them more pointless. The stupid optimism of every work that takes up these figures is, by itself, the means of that futility and that immanent obsolescence. One must pursue it still.

Affirming nomadism disregards the potential consequences of their ethics. Failing to calculate in the context of political strategy makes oppression inevitable and turns solvency Neigh 10 (September 2, 2010; Scott Neigh; “Review: Crack Capitalism,” https://canadiandimension.com/blog/view/review// AGY)

There also seems to be an element of resisting the urge to define cracks in some kind of formal way while still retaining

the right to know them when you see them, which waves a similar kind of red flag for me in that it potentially helps to organize our perception of and response to oppressive practices in ways that are not necessarily useful. I can imagine, for example, some sort of rural compound populated by fundamentalist Christians who reject capitalist social relations and are largely self-sufficient, but who are explicitly and virulently patriarchal. I suspect Holloway would argue this is not really a crack based on the quote above and some of the surrounding material, but it isn’t clear to me, given how it is currently theorized, that this has any more of a basis

than just not liking that particular grouping. Such a space could quite conceivably reject the logic of capital but still be horrendously oppressive. In contrast, I can imagine some sort of rural, vaguely anarcho-inspired, hippyish commune that says all the right things, is explicitly against all forms of oppressive nastiness, but that through various cultural practices and material barriers is a pretty unfriendly place for people of colour and not very supportive of everyday political work of/in communities of colour. I can imagine, moreover, such a place being regarded by broader left-ish publics as a genuine crack, and worthy of forms of solidarity and cooperation and admiration that the compound above is

not. I’m not saying anything about how these two hypotheticals should be regarded and responded to, just pointing out that the book’s minimalist approach to the content of spaces that break in some respect with the logic of capital and try to do things differently but that (by the book’s own admission are likely to) reproduce oppressive practices and relations in other respects is basically to avoid the issue, which is unhelpful. So. The point I’m making is that cracks and their potentially oppressive

contents are undertheorized and I can see ways in which that undertheorization and the ways in which it is justified could be ways to escape dealing with that oppression, even given an acknowledgment that imperfections are inevitable. There are also some tensions in the theory that deserve more attention. For instance, there is no question that the book opposes sectarianism and puritanical

politics, and encourages ways of work that avoid them. Yet there are also passages in which florid language about refusing to compromise with the state, and about the centrality of the revolt against labour rather than of labour, sounds pretty sectarian and puritanical. Again, this is an inevitable tension, and one that can only be resolved in the course of doing things. But I would still like to have heard more of what Holloway had to say about navigating such tensions in practice. I also feel a faint

anxiety that this approach would lead to us – meaning people struggling against capitalism and other oppressions in diverse ways and under diverse banners – to miss something, in the sense that its rejection of the state form and its

rejection of dissident theorizing that is done from the standpoint of the totality might cause us to overlook something. I fundamentally agree with both of those stances, but I think it is probably good that people in revolutionary traditions that do not accept them will continue to challenge them.

Links to off case

Baudrillard (or Lacan if you’re into that stuff)Baudrillard tag) The aff operates under a fatal misunderstanding of how the surveillance state has risen to power. The idea of micro-fascisms can’t be applied to surveillance, and the surveillant assemblage doesn’t exist. We are surveilled because in the digital era we have become obsessed with manipulating our own images, and the surveillance state is merely an expression of this unconscious desire.Lacan tag) The aff operates under a fatal misunderstanding of how the surveillance state has risen to power. The idea of micro-fascisms can’t be applied to surveillance, and the surveillant assemblage doesn’t exist. We have to face the fact that we are surveilled because we have a deep-seated desire within the Big Other to be surveilled.Smecker, 13 (Frank. American philosopher and social theorist. He studied English, Philosophy, and Psychology at University of Vermont, and is currently studying philosophy at Duquesne University. An emerging voice in the canon of social theory, contemporary philosophy, and Žižekian dialectics, his topics of interest include: left politics, philosophy, Freudo-Lacanian psychoanalysis, radical environmentalism, workers' rights and movements, lit-theory, film, and music. "1984.0: The Rise of the Big Other as Big Brother." Truthout. N.p., 20 June 2013. Web. 19 July 2015. http://webcache.googleusercontent.com/search?q=cache:qw3k1icvngQJ:www.truth-out.org/speakout/item/17111-19840-the-rise-of-the-big-other-as-big-brother+&cd=1&hl=en&ct=clnk&gl=us)TB

In order to grasp what I'm getting at here, it's important to familiarize oneself for the time being with two theoretical terms: the "big Other" and "gaze." The latter often lends itself to a multitude of theoretical interpretations, each one replete with its own definition and conceptualization of functioning. To preempt against too much confusion, however, we'll focus on the gaze as discussed

hereunder. To start, the twentieth century psychoanalyst Badass, Jacques Lacan, gave an account of the gaze with the following

story he borrowed from Sartre: The gaze that I encounter [...] is not a seen gaze [not a set of eyes that I see looking at me] but a gaze imagined by me in the field of the Other [...] the sound of rustling leaves heard while out hunting [...] a footstep heard in a corridor [The gaze exists] not at the level of [a particular] other whose gaze surprises the subject looking through the keyhole. It is that the other surprises him, the subject, as an entirely hidden gaze. [3] And then there is what Slovenian philosopher

and cultural critic, Slavoj Žižek, calls the "impossible gaze": that uncanny perspective by means of which we are already present at the scene of our own absence. What this means is that, any good ol' fantasy functions properly only by "removing" ourselves from the fantasy we are having. Take as an example Disney's Wall-E, the story of a convivial little robot that looks like an anthropomorphized Mars rover, that "falls in love" with Eva, a robot that basically looks like an egg. Essentially, this is a fantasy of a post-human earth - though of course dreamed up by someone (human) and, definitely watched by a whole bunch of (human) people. Hence the perspective in which "I am present at the very scene of my own absence" - the human viewer reduced to the "impossible" gaze - as if I'm not a part of the very "reality" I'm observing. This is, in a nutshell, the definition of

gaze. The big Other, on the other hand, is a bit more involved. Its definition is inherently nuanced. To start off, what we'll call the Symbolic big Other is something that is shared by everyone . It is none other than that which embodies the very ideological essence of the socio-symbolic order of our lives ; rules and etiquette - especially juridical Law itself - customs and beliefs, everything you should or should not do, what you aspire toward, and who or what you aspire to be, all of this and more, individually or in combination, constitutes the Symbolic big Other. The subject's big Other (hereafter, the Imaginary big Other ) , however, is a sort of private investment in the Symbolic big Other , a personal allegiance to the ruling ideology which sustains the narratives , beliefs , and lived fantasies of the very culture in which the subject is immersed . Each Imaginary big Other is distinct in its own unique way: my Imaginary big Other may be, say, a patriotic bricolage (not really, but you get the point) - a composite of things like, e.g., Uncle Sam, the American soldier trope, "God" and Tim Tebow. And your Imaginary big Other may embody, say,

just Emily Post, or maybe some vague ideological package of some other normative principles. In any case, the Imaginary big Other,

the subject's big Other as such, designates a private virtualization of the socio-symbolic field in which he or she is inscribed. Whether it exists in one's private notion of God, or one's notion of government, or family, or "what's cool," or a

combination of these things or whatever, the Imaginary big Other refers directly to that distinctly personalized social standard by which each of us respectively measures ourselves - 24/7/365 (yes, the big Other can make

itself known even in our dreams). Virtually everybody shares in the Symbolic big Other , for it's that very point from which the general "will-of-the-people" is reflected back to the people , so that we can see ourselves as

we appear in this reflection - as a consistent social "whole." In other words, the big Other is that which gives substance to the body politic. We are its subjects. And despite not really existing - that, at the imaginative level of the individual, it's really

none other than one's own internalization of society's dos-and-don'ts - the big Other is nonetheless experienced as a sort of independent phantasm which situates itself smack dab in the middle of any social interaction like some kind of incorporeal incarnation of a necessary third-

wheel that both instructs and scrutinizes our every thought, utterance, and move. As such, the big Other ensures that the rules of society are being followed, that we are conducting ourselves properly in society. Without the big Other the social fabric begins to fray, presenting the veritable threat of losing the constitutive substance of society itself, its governing laws, and its subjects. I suppose I should've been a little clearer earlier on: when we combine the Symbolic big Other and gaze, the result is the Imaginary big Other, the subject's big Other - that remote sense of being watched and evaluated by something that's not really there. It's sort of like a cross between a Jiminy Cricket figure of conscience and an iconic role-model of sorts, who, as such, seems to loom over your shoulder, telling you what and what not to do simply by "looking" at you, normatively

shaping and informing your every thought and behavior. We all have a big Other. It is, to repeat an emphasis from earlier, that standard by which we measure ourselves: our own private piece of the larger, public social space we inhabit. To paraphrase Žižek, the gaze of the Symbolic big Other is my own view of myself, which I see through eyes that are not authentically my own . Here, one should not fail to notice the Symbolic big Other's striking resemblance to Bentham's "Panopticon," that omnipresent, omniscient "God's-eye-view" intended to watch over us wherever we go. The likeness is unmistakable, simply because Bentham's

little wet dream embodies the big Other as such. The essential point to take away from this is that one's sense of (political) "self" is inevitably bound up with the localization of the panoptic gaze - that centralized point of omnipresent, omniscient surveillance. Wherever we go, our image of self, as seen by the gaze of the big Other, always functions for another. And further, in these times, do we not receive constant arousal, enjoyment, from the act of watching our own image of self, controlling our own image of self, tracking our own image of self? Though it's not: as if we were the Panopticon itself, but rather: because we are the Panopticon itself . We bring the Panopticon, the gaze of the Symbolic big Other as such, with us wherever we go. Social networking sites such as Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, etc., instantiate this. But what, precisely, does this even mean? Well, this is where things get both revelatory and a bit complicated. The trouble with all this is that, to return to Copjec's analysis, the

Symbolic big Other is "a point of convergence of the general will-of-the-people." What this means - and bear with me here, because this may turn confusing - is that the Symbolic big Other, as such, signifies the very mode of appearance in which we appear to ourselves, for ourselves, as we desire to appear as such. So it would follow that, if we appear to ourselves, for ourselves, as images to be controlled , manipulated, tracked, watched, and so on, as we certainly do in today 's digital medium of social networking - which, by the way, we collectively, willfully and, pleasurably participate in - then this zeitgeist of the modern majority will inevitably converge at a centralized point: which is to say, the big Other, both its Symbolic and Imaginary incarnations, will appear in the guise of "Big Brother." At the individual level, each of us embodies "Big Brother ": we are intrigued with the act of watching, tracking, manipulating, images of ourselves. At the Symbolic level, the truth of this enjoyment expresses itself today in all of its unsettling perversity: PRISM.

Cap

1nc1. Capitalism feeds on war machines- Capitalism has become Deleuzian by anticipating and coopting lines of flight. Be relying on a vanguard minority to oppose capitalism, Deleuze ignored that its nature is to feed off resistance.Vandenberghe, 8 (Frederic. Research professor in sociology at the Institute of Social and Political Studies (IESP, formerly known as IUPERJ), part of the State University of Rio de Janeiro in Brazil. "Deleuzian Capitalism." Philosophy & Social Criticism 34.8 (2008): 877-903. Web. 22 July 2015. <https://www.academia.edu/859731/Deleuzian_capitalism>.)TB

The machinic phylum that animates capitalism and flows through its unified body without organs is money . Money is always in flux and never rests. It is, as Simmel says in his Philosophy of Money, the objectivation of economic circulation in a symbol without substance that represents all possible goods and that, by substituting itself for them, speeds up the circulation of goods. Flowing through the subsystems of society, invading them from underneath, vivifying them from within, money is the bloodthat flows through the veins of capitalism and unifies the subsystems into the single market of the integrated world system of the world economy(Braudel’s économie-monde

). Marx famously likened capital to a vampire.‘Capital is dead labour which, like a vampire, only becomes alive by sucking out living labour , and the more it sucks, the more it is lively’(Marx, 1968: 247). Marx had obviously understood the internal connec-tion between labour and capital when he predicted its enlarged repro-duction on a global scale, but fixed as he was on the category of work, he could not foresee that production would become post-industrial andthat capital could exist and reproduce itself without labour (Vanden-berghe, 2002). But capitalism is inventive and productive, and to capi-talize, it progressively leaves the factory and invades, like a

parasite, allspheres of life and the life-world itself. At the end, it ends up, as we shall see, producing and consuming life itself. The basic principle of rhizomatic sociology is that society is always en fuite , always leaking and fleeing, and may be understood in terms of the manner in which it deals with its lignes de fuite , or lines of flight . There is always something that flees and escapes the system, something that is not controllable , or at least not yet controlled. With their machinic analysis of becoming, D eleuze and G uattari want to encourage leakages and ‘cause a run off – faire fuire – as when you drill a hole in the pipeor open up the abscess’ (Guattari, 1977: 120; Deleuze and Guattari,1980: 249; Deleuze, 1990: 32). The intention is obviously anti-systemic – draining the system, digging holes, continuing the work of the old mole. Yet, today, the capitalistic system itself thrives on anti-systematicity,‘artificial negativity’ (Adorno), or ‘repetition and difference’ (Deleuze). It feeds, as it were, on its own problems and in the process it changesitself

and mutates. The ‘repetition of the same’ eventually leads to ‘differ-ence’, which is tantamount to saying that the survival of capitalism means ‘continuity with difference’. Capitalism explores and anticipates the de-territorializing lines of flight to capture them from without , enter into symbiosis with them, and redirect them from within, like a parasite , towards its own ends. Capitalism is inventive; its creativity knows nolimits – ‘it is of the viral type’ (Deleuze and Guattari, 1980: 580). D eleuze and G uattari put their anti-capitalist hopes in the guerrilla tactics of the schizoid minority that refuses to play the game (Marcuse’s nicht mitmachen ) of the self-content majority.

Although they know that the squirms of the dispersed minority accompany the war machine of the entrepreneurial companies like their

‘supplement’, although they realize that capitalism advances like a war machine that feeds on the lines of flight and indicated that capitalism knows no internal limits, they nevertheless believed that capitalism would find its logical conclusion in the schizophrenic production of a free flow of desire: ‘Schizophrenia isthe external limit of capitalism itself’ (Deleuze and Guattari, 1972: 292).What they apparently meant by that mad statement is that the final crisis of capitalism would eventually be generated not by the regulation or domestication of capitalism but by the complete commodification of the desiring machines that we are. Only by accelerating the decadence of the present system, only through some kind of self-commodification ina consumerist potlatch, would the capitalist system be beaten by its own game: Which is the revolutionary path, if there’s one? To withdraw from the worldmarket . . . in a curious renewal of the ‘economic solution’ of the fascists?Or might it go in the opposite direction? To go still further in the movementof the market, of decoding and territorialisation? ... Not withdraw from

theprocess, but going further, ‘accelerating the process’, as Nietzsche said. As amatter of fact, we ain’t seen nothing yet. (Deleuze and Guattari, 1972: 285) 1 A quarter of a century later, the process of accumulation has accelerated to the point that capitalism itself has become Deleuzian in form, in styleand in content . This junction is not accidental. As usual, an ironic and profoundly perverse relationship exists between the romantic ethic and the spirit of capitalism (Campbell, 1987: 202–27). Needless to say that I am not claiming that Deleuze’s libertarian critique of capitalism was anti-critical or phoney from the start and that Deleuze is somehow the Giddens of the 1970s: a neo-liberal

disguised as a libertarian, or Thatcher on LSD. What I am claiming is, rather, that capitalism has progressively integrated the critique of capitalism into its mode of functioning, with the result that capitalism appears stronger than ever , whereas the critiqueof capitalism seems rather disarmed.

2. The impact is extinction – neoliberal social organization ensures extinction from resource wars, climate change, and structural violence – only accelerating beyond capitalism can resolve its impactsWilliams & Srnicek 13

(Alex, PhD student at the University of East London, presently at work on a thesis entitled 'Hegemony and Complexity', Nick, PhD candidate in International Relations at the London School of Economics, Co-authors of the forthcoming Folk Politics, 14 May 2013, http://criticallegalthinking.com/2013/05/14/accelerate-manifesto-for-an-accelerationist-politics/)

At the beginning of the second decade of the Twenty-First Century, global civilization faces a new breed of cataclysm. These coming apocalypses ridicule the norms and organisational structures of the politics which were forged in the birth of the nation-state, the rise

of capitalism, and a Twentieth Century of unprecedented wars. 2. Most significant is the break down of the planetary climatic system. In time, this threatens the continued existence of the present global human population . Though this is the most critical of the threats which face humanity, a series of lesser but potentially equally destabilising problems exist along side and intersect with it. Terminal resource depletion , especially in water and energy reserves, offers the prospect of mass starvation, collapsing economic paradigms, and new hot and cold wars. Continued financial crisis has led governments to embrace the paralyzing death spiral policies of austerity, privatisation of social welfare services, mass unemployment, and stagnating wages . Increasing automation in production processes including ‘intellectual labour’ is evidence of the secular crisis of capitalism , soon to render it incapable of maintaining current standards of living for even the former middle

classes of the global north. 3. In contrast to these ever-accelerating catastrophes, today’s politics is beset by an inability to generate the new ideas and modes of organisation necessary to transform our societies to confront and

resolve the coming annihilations. While crisis gathers force and speed, politics withers and retreats. In this paralysis of the political ima-

ginary, the future has been cancelled. 4. Since 1979, the hegemonic global political ideology has been neoliberalism , found in some variant throughout the leading economic powers. In spite of the deep structural challenges the new global problems present to

it, most immediately the credit, financial, and fiscal crises since 2007 – 8, neoliberal programmes have only evolved in the

sense of deepening. This continuation of the neoliberal project, or neoliberalism 2.0, has begun to apply another round of structural adjustments, most significantly in the form of encouraging new and aggressive incursions by the private sector into what

remains of social democratic institutions and services. This is in spite of the immediately negative economic and social

effects of such policies, and the longer term fundamental barriers posed by the new global crises.

2ncFluidity link- the risomatic form of the war machine allows for capitalism to co-opt it and place it under the capitalistic order.Diken and Laustsen 01 (2001; Bulent Diken, Professor of Sociology at Lancaster University, and Carsten Bagge Laustsen, Professor of Political Science at Aarhus University; Enjoy Your Flight! – “Fight Club” as a symptom of the Network Society, http://www.lancaster.ac.uk/sociology/research/publications/papers/diken-laustsen-enjoy-your-fight.pdf//AGY)

The de-traditionalized, increasingly reflexive individuals no longer have ready-made symbolic authorities, and they complain, as does Tyler in Fight Club, “we are a generation of men raised by women”. He never “knew his father” (Palahniuk 1997: 49). In the social space within which Fight Club emerges there is no father, only a ruse of signs, an experience of a smooth space without symbolic

hierarchies. A place no longer determined by the law and tradition or by the solidity of a habitus. What follows is the burden of reflexivity as one has to choose one’s place in the social, because identity is no longer a matter of occupying an already given subject position. Hence one desperately searches for a true identity, tries to find an objective correlate to being. “I loved my life. I loved my condo. I loved every stick of furniture. That was my whole life. Everything—

the lamps, the chairs, the rugs—were me. The dishes were me. The plants were me. The television was me”. This “friction-free”, smooth space is of course the space of contemporary capitalism , of flows. What is often overlooked is that in this social space fantasies are violated, not because they are forbidden but because they are not. Today fantasies are subsumed under capital, and a market for the extreme and the perverted is growing. In our post-Oedipal era, the paradigmatic mode of subjectivity is the “polymorphously perverse” subject that follows the command to enjoy; no longer the Oedipal subject integrated into the symbolic order through castration (Žižek 1999: 248). If, in the reflexive society, the symbolic father of the uncompromising “No!” is in retreat, the void is filled with either ersatz authorities (e.g. ethical committees) or authorities that make transgression or perversion of the Law a rule in the service of enjoyment. Thus, the standard situation of the disciplinary subject is reversed: “we no longer have the public Order of hierarchy, repression and severe regulation, subverted by the secret acts of liberating transgression ...

on the contrary, we have public social relations among free and equal individuals, where the ‘passionate attachment’ to some extreme form of strictly regulated domination and submission becomes the secret transgressive source of libidinal satisfaction, the obscene supplement to the public sphere of freedom and equality” (Žižek 1999: 345). The problem of authority today is not that of the symbolic authority that forbids enjoyment but that of the superego, of the obscene authority that enjoins one

to enjoy. This is a scenario in which transgression does not result in freedom but in new, and even more rigid,

authority structures. The distinction between societies of discipline and societies of control, in which power goes nomadic, is

illuminating here. Deleuze claims that capitalism is no longer characterized by panoptic, place-bounded discipline forcing people to overtake given subject positions , but by a permanent movement, in which the subject is always in a state of becoming. “Control”, he says, “is short-term and rapidly shifting, but at the same time continuous and unbounded, whereas discipline was long-term, infinite and discontinuous” (Deleuze 1995: 181). If the geography of discipline worked in terms of fixed points or positions, control operates in terms of mobility, speed, flexibility, anonymity and contingent identities, in terms of “the

whatever” (Hardt 1998: 32). The symptom of control society is the collapse of the institutional walls: not that discipline ends with the deterritorialization of institutions. Rather, discipline, now freer than ever from territorial constraints, has become more immanent to the social field (Hardt & Negri 2000). In control society subjectivity is “produced simultaneously by

numerous institutions in different combinations and doses”; hence social space tends to lose its delimitation: one “is factory

worker outside the factory, student outside the school, inmate outside prison, insane outside the asylum—all at the same time. It belongs to no identity and all of them—outside the institutions but even more intensely ruled by their disciplinary logics” (Hardt & Negri 2000: 331-2). This unfinished, constantly mutating status of everything does not bring with it freedom, but control, which corresponds to the immanent, axiomatic logic of capital. Capitalism does no longer function according to the discourse of the master (Žižek 1999: 373). Control is not given by castration, that is, by a restriction of the subject’s ability to move and to act, by a limitation in being. It pertains to flows; the universe of capitalism is immanent, infinite, without an end. As Fight Club says,

living in it is like living in “The IBM Stellar Sphere, The Philip Morris Galaxy, Planet Starbucks”. The source of anxiety in this open, smooth space is not lack of being; rather, too much pseudo-freedom, e.g. freedom to consume. “[T]he anxiety generated by the risk society is that of a superego: what characterizes the superego is precisely the absence of a ‘proper measure’—one obeys its commands not enough / or too much; whatever one does, the result is wrong and one is guilty. The problem with the superego is that it can never be translated into a positive rule to be followed” (Žižek 1999: 394). Thus, permitted enjoyment—You may!—turns into the prescriptive enjoyment—You must!—(Žižek 2000: 133). In other words, the demise of the symbolic authority does in no way imply the demise of authority

as such, and herein lies the paradox of the theory of reflexivity, its blindness to the (re)emerging non-symbolic forms of authority. The paradox of postmodern individuality: the injunction to be oneself, to realize one’s creative potential, results in the exact opposite,

that is, the feeling of the inauthenticity of all acts. No act, no commodity is really it. My “inner being” is not expressed that way, either (Ibid. 22-23). Extreme individuality reverts to its opposite, causing the subject experience to be uncertain and faceless, changing from mask to mask, trying to fill the void behind the mask by shifting between idiosyncratic hobbies (Žižek 1999: 373).

Fluidity is something cap relies on. Reading history as fluid ignores the concrete nature of production.

Can’t solveD&G can’t escape capitalismZizek, 4 (Slavoj. Professor of Sociology at the Institute for Sociology, Ljubljana University, 2004, interviewed by Glyn Daly, Senior Lecturer in Politics in the Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences at University College, Northampton, Conversations With Zizek, p. 151-52)

Would this be a kind of twisted version of Deleuze and Guattari? It’s virtually the opposite of Deleuze and Guattari, because they have this idea of capitalist schizophrenia, the bad paranoia, which then explodes into a good revolutionary schizophrenia. But I think that Deleuze and Guattari are dangerously close to some kind of pseudo anti-psychiatry celebration of madness. I think that madness is something horrible — people suffer — and I’ve always found it false to try and identify some liberating dimension in madness. In any case, the limit that the social psychologists are referring to is of a far more straightforward kind. For example, according to some American estimates at least 70 per cent of today’s academics and professors are on either Prozac or some other form of psychotropic drug. It is no longer the exception. It is literally that in order to function we already need psycho-pharmacy. So that is the limit: we will simply start getting crazy. But I don’t buy this notion of an external limit. I think that capitalism has this incredible capacity of turning catastrophe into a new form of access. Capitalism can turn every external limit to its development into a challenge for new capitalist investment. For example, let us assume that there will be some big ecological catastrophe. I think that capitalism can simply turn ecology itself into a new field of market competition , like , you know, who will produce the better product, which will be ecologically better .

ColonialityDeleuze’s theory excludes consideration of indigenous societies – root cause of classismSpivak 85 (Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak is an Indian literary theorist, philosopher and University Professor at Columbia University, where she is a founding member of the school's Institute for Comparative Literature and Society. “Can the subaltern speak?”1985. From Cary Nelson, Lawrence Grossberg’s Marxism and the Interpretation of Culture. University of Illinois Press, 1988) TB

That Deleuze and Foucault ignore both the epistemic violence of imperialism and the international division of labor would matter less if they did not , in closing, touch on third-world issues. But in France it is

impossible to ignore the problem of the tiers monde, the inhabitants of the erstwhile French African colonies. Deleuze limits his consideration of the Third World to these old local and regional indigenous elite who are , ideally, subaltern . In this context, references to the maintenance of the surplus army of labor fall into reverse-ethnic sentimentality . Since he is speaking of the heritage of nineteenth-century territorial imperialism, his reference is to the nation-state rather

than the globalizing center "French capitalism needs greatly a floating signifier of unemployment. In this perspective, we begin to see the unity of the forms of repression : restrictions on immigration, once it is acknowledged that the most difficult and thankless jobs go to immigrant workers ; repression in the factories, because the French must reacquire the 'taste' for increasingly harder work; the struggle against youth and the repres-sion of the educational system" (ED, 211-12). This is an acceptable analysis. Yet it shows again that the Third World can enter the resistance program of an alliance politics directed against a "unified repression" only

when it is confined to the third-world groups that are directly accessible to the First World." This benevolent first-world appropriation and reinscription of the Third World as an Other is the founding characteristic of much third-world-ism in the US human sciences today.

FemRather than seeing philosophy as a question of conditions, Deleuze and Guattari’s What is Philosophy? suggests that we think any such posited conditions as illusions of transcendence (1994: 49). To see all transcendent conditions as illusions generated from within immanence involves recognising that these illusions (such as the subject, God or Being) are effected

according to a good image of thought. The idea of a grounding transcendence ensures in advance what thought will be. The positing of a general transcendent condition enables thought to continue as self-recognition. In a radical empiricism, however, immanence is no longer immanent to something else (Deleuze and Guattari 1994: 47). Immanence is only conceivable as immanence to some transcendence if there is a pre-established plane: a general field already understood or deter- mined in a certain way. The realisation that there is this plane is the first challenge of Deleuze’s empiricism. The second challenge that we might avoid altogether this transcendent ‘Something = x’ and think THE plane of immanence (and thereby thought ‘without an image’) is the less immediately realisable task (Deleuze and Guattari 1994: 59). In Empiricism and Subjectivity (1991a) Deleuze sets the problem of immanence in relation to Kant’s philosophy of representation. Transcendence, Deleuze argues, is an empirical fact. Only transcendental philosophy takes this fact and places it within the domain of representation such that the given becomes a ‘Something = x’ (an effect of the subject). The given, here, is seen to depend on the subject’s synthesis (Deleuze 1991a: 111). An empiricist philosophy, on the other hand, looks at ‘what we are doing’ to establish relations within the given (133); in which case, there would be no transcendence in general (Being) but a distrib- ution of different connections, habits, singularities and passions. An immanent philosophy creates its concepts, not according to a pre-established plane, but in an

attempt to think new planes. If we see philosophy, not as an enquiry into the conditions of difference but as the challenge to think difference in the absence of conditions for difference (Deleuze 1994a: 28), then philosophy will be a creative rather than a critical procedure. If the ‘illusions’ of transcendence are inevitably reintroduced (Deleuze and Guattari 1994:

51) this is because concepts, once created, are taken as eternal. As the creation of new concepts, philosophy is the challenge of immanence, the task of thinking a concept as event, and not as a representation of some predetermined transcendence. Philosophy is the challenge of an immanence that would be ‘accommodated to itself’ (208) and not justified by something other than, or tran- scendent to, the event of thought. This is why philosophy is not history of philosophy but ‘becoming’

(59). But if philosophy is not an explanation of the genesis or possi- bility of difference but the creation of different concepts, what happens to sexual difference – that difference that has functioned as the exemplary instance of difference in theories of ethical dif- ference? Early feminist criticism of Deleuze recognised one thing clearly enough: if difference is no longer an originary condition, and if difference is no longer the difference of the genesis of the subject, then sexual difference is no longer foundational, no longer the difference from which all other (given) differences are effected. Against Deleuze and the collapse of sexual difference into difference in general, feminist ethics in a number of forms has suggested that we remain within the transcendental or quasi- transcendental question, the question of the conditions for determinate differences.

Rhizomes Counter-advocacyThe central characteristic of the modern state is an “obscene underside of the law.” This underside is constituted by relatively insignificant, widespread practices like speeding and walking on grass. The state is only able to function premised on these activities being unofficially permitted. So, contrary to what the aff says, acts of resistance don’t end up achieving any solvency. Instead, we propose the counter-advocacy of overconforming to the law. Only this can destroy the ideological phantasy behind law and dismantle the modern panoptic surveillance state.Krips, 10 (Henry. Professor of Cultural Studies, Andrew W. Mellon All-Claremont Chair of Humanities at CGU. "The Politics of the Gaze Foucault, Lacan and Žižek." Culture Unbound: Journal of Current Cultural Research CU 2.1 (2010): 91-102. Web. 20 July 2015.)TB

Central to Žižek’s account of the modern state is the concept of “ an obscene underside of the law ”, namely widespread practices – petty tax evasion, speeding, walking on the grass , etc – which , although strictly speaking illicit, are unofficially tolerated. This network of practices is sustained thanks to what Žižek calls an “ideological phantasy” that keeps them an “open secret” – everyone knows about and participates in them in private, but no one mentions them , let alone publicly flaunts participating in them.

Such practices constitute points of failure of the law in so far as they fall in an indeterminate zone in relation to legal

categories: on the one hand, in so far as they are tolerated they are not straightforwardly illegal, but, on the other hand, neither are they legal; and as such, constitute a fundamental illegality at the heart of the legal system. Žižek’s point is

that, rather than undermining the law, the obscene underside of the law sustains it – the law is tolerated because of the little secret pleasures that people derive from its obscene underside. In

Lacanian terms, we may say that the obscene underside of the law is the set of necessary but repressed points of failure of the legal system – in short, it is the symptom of the legal system. In particular, in the context of a legal state apparatus that is held in place by a panoptic system of surveillance, the obscene underside of the law is a liminal zone of high anxiety that , like the Emperor’s body under his new clothes, is obscenely visible to each of his subject s in the privacy of their own visual field, yet must be shrouded in a cloak of invisibility in the public realm. This is the site of the gaze. How are we to oppose such a system , which seemingly coexists with, indeed depends upon its own systematic transgression? According to Žižek,

not by acts of resistance , since the system is readily able to accommodate, indeed depends upon such acts. 6 Instead, Žižek suggests opposition through acts of overconformity , which, rather than protest ing let alone breaking the law, insist upon it to the letter, even when ideological “common sense” suggests otherwise . In particular, this means a refusal to turn a “blind eye” from manifestations of law’s obscene underside. As Žižek puts it: “Sometimes, at least – the truly subversive thing is not to disregard the explicit letter of Law on behalf of the underlying fantasies, but to stick to this letter against the fantasy which sustains it….Is not an exemplary case of such subversion-through-identification provided by Jaroslav Hasek’s The Good Soldier Schweik, the novel whose hero wreaks total havoc by simply executing the orders of his superiors in an overzealous and all-too-

literal way (Žižek 1997: 30, 22, 31). What constitutes such strategies of overconformity in the context of a modern panoptic regime of surveillance? Answer: openly/publicly sticking to the letter of the law by refusing the cloak of invisibility that shrouds the law’s points of failure; in other words, by refusing to

indulge what Žižek calls “the ideological fantasy ”, orchestrating a direct encounter with the objet a qua gaze . To put

it in Žižek’s terms, it is a matter of “ actively endorsing the passive confrontation with the objet a , bypassing the intermediate role of the screen of fantasy ” (Žižek 1997: 31). To be specific, it is matter of not merely saying but also acting out publicly what everyone knows in private but dares not say: not merely announcing in public that the Emperor is naked, but arresting him for indecent exposure. By Lacanianizing Foucault, as I have done here, we are able to understand the logic behind such heterodox strategies for opposing modern regimes of surveillance .

War Machine Counter Advocacy

1ncThe United States Federal Government should completely outlaw any domestic surveillance conducted on social and/or political movements and the predictive policing policy.1. Your Royden 15 card says that the structural violence caused in the status quo comes from the FBI’s surveillance of movements with the Stingray, Dirtbox technology, and Joint Terrorist Forces.

2. Curtailing surveillance on movements and Predictive policing policy ends racial discrimination allowing movements to prevail and solve. Your own 1ac evidence. Cyril 15 (April 2015, Malkia Amala Cyril; The Progressive, April 2015 edition, http://www.progressive.org/news/2015/03/188074/black-americas-state-surveillance//AGY)

The trouble is, targeted surveillance frequently includes the indiscriminate collection of the private data of people targeted by race but not involved in any crime. For targeted communities, there is little to no expectation of privacy from government or corporate surveillance. Instead, we are watched, either as criminals or as consumers. We do not expect policies to protect us. Instead, we’ve birthed a complex and coded culture—from jazz to spoken dialects—in order to navigate a world in which spying, from AT&T and Walmart to public benefits programs and beat cops on the block, is as much a part of our built environment as the streets covered in our blood. In a recent address, New York City Police Commissioner Bill Bratton made it clear: “2015 will be one of the most significant years in the history of this organization. It will be the year of technology, in which we literally will give to every

member of this department technology that would’ve been unheard of even a few years ago.” Predictive policing, also known as “Total Information Awareness,” is described as using advanced technological tools and data analysis to “preempt” crime. It utilizes trends, patterns, sequences, and affinities found in data to make determinations about when and where crimes will occur.

This model is deceptive, however, because it presumes data inputs to be neutral. They aren’t. In a racially discriminatory criminal justice system, surveillance technologies reproduce injustice. Instead of reducing

discrimination, predictive policing is a face of what author Michelle Alexander calls the “New Jim Crow”—a de facto system of separate and unequal application of laws, police practices, conviction rates, sentencing terms, and conditions of confinement that operate

more as a system of social control by racial hierarchy than as crime prevention or punishment. In New York City, the predictive policing approach in use is “Broken Windows.” This approach to policing places an undue focus on quality of life crimes—like selling loose cigarettes, the kind of offense for which Eric Garner was choked to death. Without oversight, accountability, transparency, or rights,

predictive policing is just high-tech racial profiling—indiscriminate data collection that drives discriminatory policing practices. As local law enforcement agencies increasingly adopt surveillance technologies, they use them in three primary ways: to listen in on specific conversations on and offline; to observe daily movements of individuals and groups; and to observe data trends. Police departments like Bratton’s aim to use sophisticated technologies to do all three. They will use technologies like license plate readers, which the Electronic Frontier Foundation found to be disproportionately used in communities of color and communities in the process of being gentrified. They will use facial recognition, biometric scanning software, which the FBI has now rolled out as a national system, to be adopted by local police departments for any criminal justice purpose. They intend to use body and dashboard cameras, which have been touted as an effective step toward accountability based on the results of one study, yet storage and archiving procedures, among many other issues, remain unclear. They will use Stingray cellphone interceptors. According to the ACLU, Stingray technology is an invasive cellphone surveillance device that mimics cellphone towers and sends out signals to trick cellphones in the area into transmitting their locations and identifying information. When used to track a suspect’s cellphone, they also gather information about the phones of countless bystanders who happen to be nearby. The same is true of domestic drones, which are in increasing use by U.S. law enforcement to conduct routine aerial surveillance. While drones are currently unarmed, drone manufacturers are considering arming these remote-controlled aircraft with weapons like rubber bullets, tasers, and tear gas. They will use fusion centers. Originally designed to increase interagency collaboration for the purposes of counterterrorism, these have instead become the local arm of the intelligence community. According to Electronic Frontier Foundation, there are currently seventy-eight on record. They are the clearinghouse for increasingly used “suspicious activity reports”—described as “official documentation of observed behavior reasonably indicative of pre-operational planning related to terrorism or other criminal activity.” These reports and other collected data are often stored in massive databases like e-Verify and Prism. As anybody who’s ever dealt with gang databases knows, it’s almost impossible to get

off a federal or state database, even when the data collected is incorrect or no longer true. Predictive policing doesn’t just lead to racial and religious profiling—it relies on it. Just as stop and frisk legitimized an initial, unwarranted contact between police and

people of color, almost 90 percent of whom turn out to be innocent of any crime, suspicious activities reporting and the

dragnet approach of fusion centers target communities of color. One review of such reports collected in Los Angeles shows approximately 75 percent were of people of color. This is the future of policing in America, and it should terrify you as much as it terrifies me. Unfortunately, it probably doesn’t, because my life is at far greater risk than the lives of white Americans, especially those reporting on the issue in the media or advocating in the halls of power. One of the most terrifying aspects of high-tech surveillance is the invisibility of those it disproportionately impacts. The NSA and FBI have engaged local law enforcement agencies and electronic surveillance technologies to spy on Muslims living in the United States. According to FBI training materials uncovered by Wired in 2011, the bureau taught agents to treat “mainstream” Muslims as supporters of terrorism, to view charitable donations by Muslims as “a funding mechanism for combat,” and to view Islam itself as a “Death Star” that must be destroyed if terrorism is to be contained. From New York City to Chicago and beyond, local law enforcement agencies have expanded unlawful and covert racial and religious profiling against Muslims not suspected of any crime. There is no national security reason to profile all Muslims. At the same time, almost 450,000 migrants are in detention facilities throughout the United States, including survivors of torture, asylum seekers, families with small children, and the elderly. Undocumented migrant communities enjoy few legal protections, and are therefore subject to brutal policing practices, including illegal

surveillance practices. According to the Sentencing Project, of the more than 2 million people incarcerated in the United States, more than 60 percent are racial and ethnic minorities. But by far, the widest net is cast over black communities. Black people alone represent 40 percent of those incarcerated. More black men are incarcerated than were held in slavery in 1850, on the eve of the Civil War. Lest some misinterpret that statistic as evidence of greater criminality, a 2012 study confirms that black defendants are at least 30 percent more likely to be imprisoned than whites

for the same crime. This is not a broken system, it is a system working perfectly as intended, to the detriment of all. The NSA could not have spied on millions of cellphones if it were not already spying on black people, Muslims, and migrants. As

surveillance technologies are increasingly adopted and integrated by law enforcement agencies today, racial disparities are being made invisible by a media environment that has failed to tell the story of surveillance in the context of structural racism. Reporters love to tell the technology story. For some, it’s a sexier read. To me, freedom from repression and racism is far sexier than the newest gadget used to reinforce racial hierarchy. As civil rights protections catch up with the technological terrain, reporting needs to catch up, too. Many journalists still focus their reporting on the technological trends and not the racial hierarchies that these trends are enforcing. Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “Everything we see is a shadow cast by that which we do not see.” Journalists have an obligation

to tell the stories that are hidden from view. We are living in an incredible time, when migrant activists have blocked deportation buses, and a movement for black lives has emerged, and when women, queer, and trans experiences have been placed right at the center. The decentralized power of the Internet makes that possible. But the

Internet also makes possible the high-tech surveillance that threatens to drive structural racism in the twenty-first century. We can help black lives matter by ensuring that technology is not used to cement a racial hierarchy that leaves too many people like me dead or in jail. Our communities need partners, not gatekeepers. Together, we can change the cultural terrain that makes killing black people routine. We can counter inequality by ensuring that both the technology and the police departments that use it are democratized. We can change the story on surveillance to raise the voices of those who have been left out. There are no voiceless people,

only those that ain’t been heard yet. Let’s birth a new norm in which the technological tools of the twenty-first century create equity and justice for all—so all bodies enjoy full and equal protection, and the Jim Crow surveillance state exists no more.

3. Movements through the state is the only way to solve.Williams, ’70 (1970, Robert F. Williams, Civil Rights activist and president of the Monroe, North Carolina chapter of the NAACP; interviewed by The Black Scholar, “Interviews,”, Vol. 1, No. 7, BLACK REVOLUTION (May 1970), pp. 2-14, http://www.jstor.org/stable/41163455// AGY)

It is erroneous to think that one can isolate oneself completely from institutions of a social and political system that exercises power over the environment in which he resides. Self-imposed and premature

isolation, initiated by the oppressed against the organs of a tyrannical establishment, militates against revolutionary movements dedicated to radical change. It is a grave error for militant and just-minded youth to reject struggle-serving opportunities to join the man’s government services, police forces, peace corps and vital organs of the power structure. Militants should become acquainted with the methods of the oppressor. Meaningful change can be more thoroughly effectuated by militant pressure from within as well

as without. We can obtain valuable know-how from the oppressor. Struggle is not all violence. Effective struggle requires tactics, plans, analysis and a highly sophisticated application of mental aptness. The forces of oppression and tyranny have perfected a highly articulate system of infiltration for undermining and frustrating the efforts of the oppressed in trying to upset the unjust status quo. To a great

extent, the power structure keeps itself informed as to the revolutionary activity of freedom fighters. With the threat of extermination looming menacingly before black Americans, it is pressingly imperative that our people enter the vital organs of the establishment. Infiltrate the man’s institutions.

Solvency

State GoodThe State solves for racial prejudice.Franklin 93 (1993; John Hope Franklin, Professor of Legal History in the Law School at Duke University and the Professor Emeritus of History; THE COLOR LINE: Legacy for the Twenty-First Century, University of Missouri Press / COLUMBIA AND LONDON , pg. 45//AGY)

Neither the courts nor the Congress nor the president can declare by fiat, resolution, or executive order that the United States is a color-blind society. They can only facilitate a movement in that direction by discharging their duties in a way that reflects their commitment to such a goal. Form that point on, it is the people of all colors who must work in every way possible to attain that goal. Those who insist that we should conduct ourselves as if such a utopian state already existed have no interest in achieving it and, indeed, would be horrified if we even approached it.

Policy can bring social change- if it is created by policy then it can be destroyed by it too. Gay rights is an example.Bouie 13 (March 11, 2013; Jamelle Bouie, Staff Writer for the American Prospect and the Daily Beast; “Making (and Dismantiling) Racisim,” http://prospect.org/article/making-and-dismantling-racism//AGY)

Over at The Atlantic, Ta-Nehisi Coates has been exploring the intersection of race and public policy, with a focus on white supremacy as a

driving force in political decisions at all levels of government. This has led him to two conclusions: First, that anti-black racism as we understand it is a creation of explicit policy choices—the decision to exclude, marginalize, and stigmatize Africans and their

descendants has as much to do with racial prejudice as does any intrinsic tribalism. And second, that it's possible to dismantle this prejudice using public policy. Here is Coates in his own words: Last night I had the luxury of sitting and talking with the brilliant

historian Barbara Fields. One point she makes that very few Americans understand is that racism is a creation. You read Edmund

Morgan’s work and actually see racism being inscribed in the law and the country changing as a result. If we accept that racism is a creation, then we must then accept that it can be destroyed. And if we accept that it can

be destroyed, we must then accept that it can be destroyed by us and that it likely must be destroyed by methods kin to creation. Racism was created by policy. It will likely only be ultimately destroyed by policy. Over at his blog, Andrew Sullivan offers a reply: I don’t believe the law created racism any more than it can create lust or greed or envy or hatred. It can encourage or mitigate these profound aspects of human psychology – it can create racist structures as in the Jim Crow South or Greater Israel. But it can no more end these things that it can create them. A complementary strategy is finding ways for the targets of such hatred to become inured to them, to let the slurs sting less until they sting not at all. Not easy. But a more manageable goal than TNC’s utopianism. I can appreciate the point Sullivan is making, but I'm not sure it's relevant to Coates' argument. It is absolutely true that "Group loyalty is deep in our DNA," as Sullivan writes. And if you define racism as an overly aggressive form of group loyalty—basically just prejudice—then Sullivan is right to throw water on the idea that the law can "create racism any more than it can create lust or greed or envy or hatred." But Coates is making a

more precise claim: That there's nothing natural about the black/white divide that has defined American history. White Europeans had contact with black Africans well before the trans-Atlantic slave trade without the emergence of an anti-black

racism. It took particular choices made by particular people—in this case, plantation owners in colonial Virginia—to make black skin a stigma, to make the "one drop rule" a defining feature of American life for more than a hundred years. By enslaving African indentured servants and allowing their white counterparts a chance for upward

mobility, colonial landowners began the process that would make white supremacy the ideology of America. The position of slavery generated a stigma that then justified continued enslavement—blacks are lowly, therefore we must keep

them as slaves. Slavery (and later, Jim Crow) wasn't built to reflect racism as much as it was built in tandem with it. And later policy, in the late 19th and 20th centuries, further entrenched white supremacist attitudes. Block black people from owning homes, and they're forced to reside in crowded slums. Onlookers then use the reality of slums to deny homeownership to blacks, under the view that they're unfit for suburbs. In other words, create a prohibition preventing a marginalized group from engaging in socially sanctioned behavior—owning a home, getting married—and then blame them for the adverse consequences. Indeed, in arguing for gay marriage and responding to conservative critics, Sullivan has taken note of this exact dynamic. Here he is twelve years ago, in a column for The New Republic that builds on earlier ideas: Gay men--not because they're gay but because they are men in an all-male subculture--are almost certainly more sexually active

with more partners than most straight men. (Straight men would be far more promiscuous, I think, if they could get away with it the way gay guys can.) Many gay men value this sexual freedom more than the stresses and strains of monogamous marriage (and I don't blame them). But this is not true of all gay men. Many actually yearn for social stability, for anchors for their relationships, for the family support and financial security that come with marriage. To deny this is surely to engage in the "soft bigotry of low expectations." They may be a minority at the moment. But with legal marriage, their numbers would surely grow. And they would function as emblems in gay culture of a sexual life linked to

stability and love. [Emphasis added] What else is this but a variation on Coates' core argument, that society can create stigmas by using law to force particular kinds of behavior? Insofar as gay men were viewed as unusually promiscuous, it almost certainly had something to do with the fact that society refused to recognize their humanity and sanction their relationships. The absence of any institution to mediate love and desire encouraged behavior that led this same culture to say "these people are too degenerate to participate in

this institution." If the prohibition against gay marriage helped create an anti-gay stigma, then lifting it—as we've seen over the last decade—has helped destroy it. There's no reason racism can't work the same way.

State movements are the only way to solve. Rejecting the mechanism of the state only causes a one-sided onslaught.Pasha 96 (July-September 1996; Mustapha Kamal Pasha, Head of International Relations at the University of Aberdeen, Member of several editorial boards, associate editor of Alternatives: Global, Local, Political; “Security as Hegemony,” Alternatives: Global, Local, Political, Vol. 21, No. 3 (July-Sept. 1996), pp. 283-302, http://www.jstor.org/stable/40644863?seq=10#page_scan_tab_contents//AGY)

An attack on the postcolonial state as the author of violence73 and its drive to produce a modern citizenry may seem cathartic, without producing the semblance of an alternative vision of a new political community or fresh forms of life among existing political communities. Central to this critique is an assault on the

state and other modern institutions said to disrupt some putatively natural flow of history. Tradition, on this logic, is uprooted to make room for grafted social forms; modernity gives birth to an intolerant and insolent Leviathan, a repository of violence and instrumental rationality's finest specimen. Civil society - a realm of humaneness, vitality,

creativity, and harmony - is superseded, then torn asunder through the tyranny of state-building. The attack on the institution of the state appears to substitute teleology for ontology. In the Third World context, especially, the rise of the modern state has been coterminous with the negation of past histories, cultures, identities, and above all with violence. The stubborn quest to construct the state as the fount of modernity has subverted extant communities and alternative forms of social organization. The more durable consequence of this project is in the realm of the political imaginary: the constrictions it has afforded; the denials of alternative futures. The postcolonial state, however, has also grown to become more heterodox - to become more than simply modernity's reckless agent against hapless nativism.

The state is also seen as an expression of greater capacities against want, hunger, and injustice; as an escape from the arbitrariness of communities established on narrower rules of inclusion/exclusion; as

identity removed somewhat from capricious attachments. No doubt, the modern state has undermined traditional values of tolerance and pluralism, subjecting indigenous society to Western-centered rationality. But tradition can also conceal particularism and oppression of another kind. Even the most elastic interpretation of universality cannot find virtue in attachments refurbished by hatred, exclusivity, or religious bigotry. A negation of the state is no guarantee that a bridge to universality can be built. Perhaps the task is to rethink modernity, not to seek refuge in a blind celebration of tradition. Outside, the state continues to inflict a self-producing

"security dilemma"; inside, it has stunted the emergence of more humane forms of political expression. But there are always sites of resistance that can be recovered and sustained. A rejection of the state as a superfluous leftover of modernity that continues to straitjacket the South Asian imagination must be linked to the project of creating an ethical and humane order based on a restructuring of the state system that privileges the mighty and the rich over the weak and the poor.74 Recognizing the constrictions of the modern Third World

state, a reconstruction of state-society relations inside the state appears to be a more fruitful avenue than wishing the state away, only to be swallowed by Western-centered globalization and its powerful institutions. A recognition of the patent failure of other institutions either to deliver the social good or to procure more just distributional rewards in the global political economy may provide a sobering reassessment of the role of the state. An appreciation of the scale of human tragedy accompanying the collapse of the state in many local contexts may also provide important points of entry into rethinking

the one-sided onslaught on the state. Nowhere are these costs borne more heavily than in the postcolonial, so-called Third World, where time-space compression has rendered societal processes more savage and less capable of adjusting to rhythms dictated by globalization.

Political movements solve. Velvet revolutions in 1989 proove.Ketels, 96 (Nov. 1996, Violet B. Ketels, Associate Professor of English at Temple University; “Havel to the Castle!” The Power of the Word, Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, Vol. 548, The Holocaust: Remembering for the Future (Nov., 1996), pp. 45-69, http://www.jstor.org/stable/1048542?seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents//AGY)

Even though, as Americans, we have not experienced "by fire, hunger and the sword"'s the terrible disasters in war overtaking other human beings on their home ground, we know the consequences of human hospitality to evil. We know about human perfidy: the chasm that separates proclaiming virtue from acting decently. Even those of us trained to linguistic skepticism and the relativity of moral judgment can grasp the verity in the stark warning, "If something exists in one place, it will exist everywhere."20 That the dreadful something warned against

continues to exist anywhere should fill us with an inextinguishable yearning to do something. Our impotence to action against the brutality of mass slaughter shames us. We have the historical record to ransack for precedent and corollaries-letters, documents, testaments, books-written words that would even "preserve their validity in the eyes of a man threatened with instant death."21 The truths gleanable from the record of totalitarian barbarism cited in them may be common knowledge; they are by no means commonly acknowledged.22 They appear in print upon many a page; they have not yet-still not yet-sufficiently penetrated human consciousness. Herein lies the supreme lesson for intellectuals, those who have the projective power to grasp what is not yet evident to the general human

consciousness: it is possible to bring down totalitarian regimes either by violence or by a gradual transformation of human consciousness; it is not possible to bring them down "if we ignore them, make excuses for them, yield to them or accept their way of playing the game"23 in order to avoid violence. The history of the gentle revolutions of Poland, Hungary, and Czechoslovakia suggests that those revolutions would not have happened at all, and certainly not bloodlessly, without the moral engagement and political activism of intellectuals in those besieged cultures. Hundreds of thousands of students, workers, and peasants joined in the final efforts to defeat the totalitarian regimes that collapsed in 1989. Still, it was the intellectuals, during decades when they repeatedly risked careers, freedom, and their very lives, often in dangerous solitary challenges to

power, who formed the unifying consensus, developed the liberating philosophy, wrote the rallying cries, framed the politics, mobilized the will and energies of disparate groups, and literally took to the streets to lead nonviolent protests that became revolutions. The most profound insights into this process that gradually penetrated social consciousness

sufficiently to make revolution possible can be read in the role Viclav Havel played before and during Czechoslovakia's Velvet Revolution. As George Steiner reflects, while "the mystery of creative and analytic genius ... is given to the very few," others can be "woken to its presence and exposed to its demands."24 Havel possesses that rare creative and analytic genius. We see it in the spaciousness of his moral vision for the future, distilled from the crucible of personal suffering and observation; in his poet's ability to translate both experience and vision into language that comes as close as possible to truth and survives translation across cultures; in the compelling force of his personal heroism. Characteristically, Havel raises local experience to universal relevance. "If today's planetary civilization has any hope of survival," he begins, "that hope lies chiefly in what we understand as the human spirit." He continues: If we don't wish to destroy ourselves in national, religious or political discord; if we don't wish to find our world with twice its current population, half of it dying of hunger; if we don't wish to kill ourselves with ballistic missiles armed with atomic warheads or eliminate ourselves with bacteria specially cultivated for the purpose; if we don't wish to see some people go desperately hungry while others throw tons of wheat into the ocean; if we don't wish to suffocate in the global greenhouse we are heating up for ourselves or to be burned by radiation leaking through holes we have made in the ozone; if we don't wish to exhaust the nonrenewable, mineral resources of this planet, without which we cannot survive; if, in short, we don't wish any of this to happen, then we must-as humanity, as people, as conscious beings with spirit, mind and a sense of responsibility-somehow come to our senses.25 Somehow we must come together in "a kind of general mobilization of human consciousness, of

the human mind and spirit, human responsibility, human reason."26 The Prague Spring was "the inevitable consequence of a long drama originally played out chiefly in the theatre of the spirit and the conscience of society," a process triggered and sustained "by individuals willing to live in truth even when things