archive : s0metim3s

Here’s the abstract for the oikopolitics piece:

In his 2009 Inaugural speech, US President Obama spoke of America’s future by not only invoking We the People’s faith in founding ideals and documents, but he did so – by this time, as his signature rhetoricity – by evoking storms. Every “so often,” he remarked, “the oath is taken amidst gathering clouds and raging storms.” He also spoke of an immeasurable “sapping of confidence” in America’s futurity, alongside “indicators of crisis, subject to data and statistics,” such as foreclosures, rising unemployment, and a costly health care. The essay that follows was written just prior to that speech, but it nevertheless attempts to understand how the measurable acquaints itself with the immeasurable (desire and the future) through a meshing of gender, race, sex, labour and desire in the accounting of the household – and the oikos, in all its etymological tightening. The question, in one sense, is how the coincidence of crises financial and climatic might unfold and recompose an oikopolitics. The concept of an oikopolitics is offered here as something far more explanatory of the genealogical and familial than understandings of sovereignty through a biopolitical lens have admitted, and something far less subjectively universal than many accounts of affect and intimacy aspire to. It does not simply point to a blurring of the classical distinction between the public realm of politics and the private domain of the household in the trammeling of arousal to labouring, and a socio-political horizon whose possible forms of relation are those of the national state conceived as home. It is also explanatory of the ways politics assumes the task of securing an intimately normative disposition, the raising of a properly political subject on the grounds of the at once familial and national. It is, in another sense then, a post-autonomist contribution to discussions that, thankfully, remain turbulent.

Metamute have an excellent article by Beth Povinelli on the ‘national emergency’, “Doing it for the Kids”. Here’s the piece I did for darkmatter, “The Materialisation of Race in Multiculture” (still forthcoming on their site).

Both of those turn around similar questions: of multiculturalism’s ostensible failure and what this precipitates, of the amplifications of the entrepreneurial subject (Beth’s focus) and (what interested me on this occasion) of the contract and notions of self-sufficient subjectivity (understandings of which are indebted to Beth’s previous writings).

But it seems necessary to focus at this juncture on the postcript to “Doing it for the Kids”, because these are the circumstances to be confronted, and they have to be confronted in the midst of a massive redeployment of affective economy around page-turnings, back-turnings, tears and healing.

Here’s the text of a talk - “Ordinary poverty and sores” - given by Elizabeth Povinelli at Charles Darwin University’s workshop “Indigenous policy reform in the NT: An extraordinary debate for extraordinary times”, on 20 July 2007.

Why are these exceptional times? Why is time exceptional now? What is exceptional about it? I have been living down at Channel Point, a place called Balgal, with a group of Aboriginal men, women and children who were driven out of their homes at Belyuen by other men, women, and children – their families to be sure, but wielding axes, chainsaws, pickets, and rocks. They ransacked their houses, stole their goods, and chased them into the scrub. No one was charged. The police investigation seemed minimal at best. Without any foreseeable housing in Darwin, and not wishing to live as part of the urban radical poor, they were promised housing at Balgal. Months later they are still living in tents, hauling water, firewood, as non-Aboriginal people live in houses just kilometers away on Aboriginal land. Not lease land, but unalienable Aboriginal freehold. And the government continues to pressure them to return to Belyuen where they risk slow death. Why cost, of course. Because as much as we hear that these are extraordinary times, they are also ordinary times; the same time it’s always been for the radically poor and black. The bottom line is the bottom line: What kind of life is worth what kind of investment? The rain is coming, everyone knows; perhaps the rain will push these families back.