OBJECTS WITHOUT TERRITORY

(1) Imagine a reality where one could only experience language in a certain institution. Something
like a zoo, but for words. (2) Imagine that each word has a little fence around it, which strictly
determines its semantic territory and defines its rank in the hierarchy of words. (3) Imagine that the
words only are to be observed in strict syntactic structures, which form the same phrases, again
and again. The word THINKING, for instance, always comes after AM, which always comes
after I. Thus the speechless and thoughtless audience of the word-zoo repeatedly experience I AM
THINKING. I AM THINKING.

In this context a thief would gain a particular function, by being able to steal the words and use
them for his own device. De-territorializing the words. Bringing them to the verge of their semantic
capabilities. Putting them together differently: AM I THINKING?

Now, lets think of objects as analogous to the words, and our society as analogous to the zoo. This
is more similar to the reality as we know it, where objects are guarded by real fences, by alarms,
as well as by the ideas of authenticity and exclusiveness. Others are thrown away.

When objects are stolen, they are no longer subject to the hierarchical discrimination that places
some things behind fences and alarms, and others in the dustbin. They are de-territorialized. Yet,
the objects are not set free. The objects are still objects: They are possessed, but in the thief’s
pocket now. The order of things is altered. One no longer knows if BEAUTY is a better word than
RAPE. Or if a bottle of Dom Perignon is a more valuable object than a broken light bulb. The
objects (and the language they embody) all float around in the pockets of the criminal, making
random dada poetry. The thief’s pocket is a landscape where the exclusive territories of the
wealthy share space with the wastelands of the marginalized. The thief has, at least for a moment,
erased the order of language. Erased the order of society.

But the stolen goods will soon burn in the pockets of the thief. He can’t steal an object, without the
object stealing him. Just like a cat released from its cage will cry for milk, the objects demand new
structures. New meanings. If not, they will float away in an ocean of non-sense. A simple thief will
therefore hastily exchange his goods with money to avoid trouble, and the object will soon return
to it’s former structure, or a similar one, but in a different home perhaps, with new fences.

The more artistically inclined criminal, let’s call him the neo-criminal, behaves differently on the
other hand. When he empties his pockets after a long days work, and he overlooks his
assemblage of stolen objects, he does not fail to realize the marvel of his actions. And he does not
fail to fill himself with excitement of the potentiality of his items. Because the neo-criminal does not
simply steal an object, he also steals its language.

Marco Demian Vitanza