I intended to focus on a specific plateau in this essay, but getting somewhere past halfway through the plateau, I opted to split the text instead. For this essay, I’ll also weave in what I’ve written for another essay on the first installment of ‘Capitalism and Schizophrenia’, ‘L’Anti-Oedipe’ or ‘Anti-Oedipus’. This is because there is quite a bit of overlap when it comes to the topic of this essay. This time I’m taking a close(r) look at segmentarity. It has already cropped up a number of times in my previous essays as the concept is used elsewhere the second installment of ‘Capitalism and Schizophrenia’, ‘A Thousand Plateaus’. As a reminder, it has to do with the postsignifying regime of signs in particular, as explained on the plateau on regimes of signs. In a nutshell, a line of flight can be drawn, going from one point to another, but it will become segmented, cutting up the continuum, moving from one proceeding to another. Deleuze and Guattari dedicate an entire plateau on segmentarity. It is titled ‘1933: Micropolitics and Segmentarity’. Now, it’s worth noting the date indicated for this plateau. If you were alert during the history classes in school, you might be able to guess where this is going.
Not unlike on other plateaus, Deleuze and Guattari (208) begin abruptly, stating that “[w]e are segmented from all around and in every direction” and specifying that as animals we are marked by segmentarity. Moreover, they (208) add that segmentarity is everywhere and “inherent to all the strata composing us.” Once again, if you haven’t read the plateau on the strata, you may feel overwhelmed by this as no explanation is provided for any of the concepts. The same applies if you haven’t read the plateau on the regimes of signs. I recommend reading those first and then coming back to this. On it own segmentarity is not a particularly tricky concept to grasp but knowing of its links to the different regimes of signs is arguably helpful here. Luckily they (209) reiterate certain central points about segmentarity:
“We are segmented in a linear fashion, along a straight line or a number of straight lines, of which each segment represents an episode or ‘proceeding’: as soon as we finish one proceeding we begin another, forever proceduring or procedured[.]”
They (209) go on to provide examples of this. In summary, we spend most of our lives moving from one episode, segment or proceeding to another. Our childhood is typically marked by our families, followed by school. School can also be segmented. For example, in my case, I first attended one local school, a primary school. Then when that was done, I was assigned to another school, a lower secondary school. When that was done, I moved on to yet another school, an upper secondary school. To use more colloquial terms, I first went to an elementary school, then to a junior high school and then to a (senior) high school. When my schooling was done, I did military service. When that was done, I enrolled to a university. It should now be apparent what Deleuze and Guattari mean by episodes, segments or proceedings. Here we could add others lines to this, say, one’s hobbies in which one progresses from level to level, but that’s unnecessary here. I reckon you get the point already. This was just to point out that there can be multiple lines and even the most typical of lines isn’t, of course, necessarily the same as the one I just explained. For example, some do vocational training, some don’t military service etc.
Deleuze and Guattari (209) note that segmentarity is by no means limited to contemporary western societies, i.e. the mixed semiotic they discuss on the plateau on regimes of signs. They (209) point out that it’s present also in the so called primitive societies, albeit it’s not exactly actualized in the same fashion. Moving on, they (210) elaborate segmentarity works in our societies:
“Not only does the State exercise power over the segments it sustains or permits to survive, but it possesses, and imposes, its own segmentarity.”
They (210) then add that this applies on different scales, functioning as “ordered subsystems.” What is relevant in their (210-211) characterization of it, is that they consider segmentarity particularly rigid and centralized in modernity. Moreover, they (210) add that binarization, also stated as present in the supposed primitive societies, is elevated to a self-sufficient organization. Similarly (211) the clarify that even in the primitive societies dots become connected as the priests, in this case shamans, draw them together. I’m dropping the supposed bit here, I believe you got the point already that they are not actually judging them as such. Actually, later on they (213) point out that labeling something as primitive has nothing to do with assumed savagery. Anyway, they (211) they note that this centralization is only localized and fragile in its temporality whereas in modern societies centralization results in a central circle encircled by other circles. Somewhat paradoxically, they (211) clarify that modern societies may have more than one center, or so to speak, but that’s the concentric arrangement that functions on different scales. I say paradoxically because in a truly centralized system there is only one center of things. However, what they mean is that, for example, you can have a highly centralized state, which functions in a unitary fashion, but with additional subsystems, such as regions that have their own subsystems, such as municipalities. In other words, they are mere subsidiaries to the central state. This is why Deleuze and Guattari (211) state that unlike in primitive societies, the centers “behave as apparatuses of resonance”. If you have read the plateau on regimes of signs, they are more or less explaining the mixed semiotic, the one combining the signifying and postsignifying regimes of signs.
Deleuze and Guattari (211-212) move on to state that modern societies are also marked by geographical segmentarity. In summary, tracing the development all the way back to the Roman Empire, they (212) state under this arrangement “[g]eometry and arithmetic take on the power of the scalpel”, slicing up space into territories and places, marked by the cuts made by the scalpel. In other words, space is sliced and diced, surveyed and gridded into homogenized segments. They (212-213) point out that it’s not that primitive societies don’t have codes and territories. Instead, as they (212-213) argue, it’s rather that the existing codes are overcoded and previous territories reterritorialized. Why is that? It’s because there’s a certain abstract machine that makes it happen, as they (213) point out.
Deleuze and Guattari (213) summarize the differences. In terms of their segmentarity, primitive societies are supple, i.e. non-rigid or flexible, and non-centralized, where as the modern societies are rigid and centralized. That said, as I noted earlier, they are not saying that primitive societies entail savagery, whatever that is supposed to mean anyway (think of some negative depiction if it doesn’t work for you). What is important here is that they are not saying that these features are not fixed on to these societies as mutually exclusive. Moreover, they consider them distinct, yet crossing over. Therefore, they (213) state that:
“Every society, and every individual, are thus plied by both segmentarities simultaneously: one molar, the other molecular.”
Here we have a pair of concepts that keeps cropping up in the book: molar and molecular. They also appear on the plateau on strata. They (58) establish it as a “real distinction between molecular content and molar expression[.]” Moreover, they (41) note that the molecular is more supple, whereas the molar is more rigid and organized. To be more specific, they (40) also note that the molecular can be small and large, so it’s not just that a small vs. large split. Later on, on another plateau, they (275) exemplify the molar by stating that it is something defined by its form, such as subjects and objects, what we recognize as … things or entities. In contrast to the molar, they (275) state that all becomings are molecular.
After briefly noting that segmentarities are both molecular and molar, they (213) push a bold claim, stating that “[i]n short, everything is political, but every politics is simultaneously a macropolitics and a micropolitics.” They (213) go on to explain that you have these molar organizations or entities, such as the binary of sexes, man and woman. To be more specific, they (213) actually state that they are “aggregates of perception or feeling”, which I guess you could spin to aggregates of sensibility. That is to say, they appear as molar, regardless of whether they are or not. They’ve been objectified, or so to speak. They (213) note that this does not mean that there aren’t “fine segmentations”, i.e. molecular aggregates. So, getting back to the binary of sexes, they (213) add that they “imply a multiplicity of molecular combinations bringing into play not only the man in the woman and the woman in the man” as well as other entities, such as animals, plants etc. With regards to another molar aggregate, class, for example the working class or the middle class, they (213-214) distinguish that it’s not the same as another molar aggregate, mass, yet classes are derived from masses and keep shifting in terms of their numbers. They (214) add that not even bureaucracy is simply rigid and segmented, despite its reputation for being so. Instead, they (214) note that despite the rigidity, there are all kinds of bureaucratic perversions going on, with “inventiveness and creativity practiced even against administrative regulations.” The most interesting and likely the most controversial example is their (214) treatment of fascism:
“We would even say that fascism implies a molecular regime that is distinct both from molar segments and their centralization.”
So, as you can see, they are not saying that it’s like bureaucracy, rigid, yet also prone to flexibility. Instead they are actually saying that fascism is molecular, not molar. They (214) clarify:
“Doubtless, fascism invented the concept of the totalitarian State, but there is no reason to define fascism by a concept of its own devising: there are totalitarian States, of the Stalinist or military dictatorship type, that are not fascist.”
I could have simply paraphrased this, but I’m not particularly fond of doing close readings and not providing the original passages to reader to judge themselves. Also, with Deleuze and Guattari, together or separate, makes little difference, it is really painfully hard to reformulate what they’ve written without bastardizing what they are after. The translator, Brian Massumi, has already had to navigate through the minefield and do his best to minimize the differences that (unfortunate) occur in translation. I try my best not to induce more differences through paraphrasing, hence my tendency to quote verbatim instead. Anyway, here, in particular, I think it is worth it to indicate what Deleuze and Guattari have written. Note how they are stating the fascism precedes totalitarianism and that not all totalitarian states are fascist. In other words, fascism and totalitarianism are two different things, even if fascism can lead to totalitarianism, as embodied in a totalitarian state. They (214) further clarify this:
“The concept of the totalitarian State applies only at the macropolitical level, to a rigid segmentarity and a particular mode of totalization and centralization.”
In contrast to fascism, which was already indicated as a molecular regime, the totalitarianism entails a molar regime and thus the totalitarian state functions at the macropolitical level. It’s rigid, totalized and centralized. Contrasting it with fascism again, they (214) add:
“[F]ascism is inseparable from a proliferation of molecular focuses in interaction, which skip from point to point, before beginning to resonate together in the National Socialist State.”
It’s worth noting that it’s evident that they are not glossing over the connection to a certain totalitarian regime of the 1930s and 1940s. However, as controversial as it may seem, they are saying that fascism is not the same as National Socialism and that the Reich is not fascist but totalitarian. They (214) go on to further elaborate their definition of fascism as operating at the micropolitical level:
“Rural fascism and city or neighborhood fascism, youth fascism and war veteran’s fascism, fascism of the Left and fascism of the Right, fascism of the couple, family, school, and office: every fascism is defined by a micro-black hole that stands on its own and communicates with the others, before resonating in a great, generalized central black hole.”
As they (214) go on to add in the following sentence, it manages to install itself in each black hole, in “every niche.” If you have read the plateau on faciality, you may remember that black holes have to do with the postsignifying regime. They are also important in the contemporary mixed regime that combines signifying and postsignifying regimes of signs. Earlier on on this plateau it was also mentioned how in modern societies there may be multiple centers, just as there are in primitive societies, but they are linked to one another hierarchically and governed by the center. That’s what they mean by the resonance here.
Deleuze and Guattari (214) already pointed out the link between fascism and the creation of totalitarian states earlier on. For them that does not, however, mean that once the totalitarian state is put into place that fascism disappears, that one transforms from one to other. The (214) exemplify this:
“Even after the National Socialist State had been established, microfascisms persisted that gave it unequaled ability to act upon the ‘masses.’”
In other words, as pointed out by the two, the little black holes did not go anywhere when a larger black hole opened up in the center. Therefore larger central black hole actually benefits from the smaller mass of black holes. They (214) go on to elaborate that the connection between the totalitarian state and the fascist mass made the National Socialist State different from the International Socialist State. They (214) note that Stalinist totalitarianism lacked this kind suppleness and flexibility on the micropolitical level. They (215) emphasize that this is exactly the danger posed by it:
“What makes fascism dangerous is its molecular or micropolitical power, for it is a mass movement: a cancerous body rather than a totalitarian organism.”
Totalitarian states, modern or not, do not have this kind of ability to survive. Deposing an Emperor is still relatively hassle free. While getting rid of one oppressor and a group of henchmen may be tricky, as exhibited by the case of North Korea, it’s still feasible when compared to a passionate mass. Cutting off one head will do the trick, but what do you do when there is no head or when the head is not actually the issue? Deleuze and Guattari (215) emphasize the importance of addressing fascism on the molecular level by first posing a pertinent question:
“Why does desire desire its own repression, how can it desire its own repression?”
In other words, they wonder why is it that these things happen. Why would anyone even want such? They (215) go on to answer their on question:
“The masses certainly do not passively submit to power; nor do they ‘want’ to be repressed, in a kind of masochistic hysteria; nor are they tricked by an ideological lure.”
So, in summary, no one really wants to repressed, except masochists. A mass of people do not simply bow down to someone, not to mention welcome such. It’s never been that simple. It’d be naive to think that coercion and violence hasn’t been involved in submission to a supposed higher authority in the past. It’s not just some mind trick, simply fooling people to submission. Instead, they (215) argue that:
“Desire is never separable from complex assemblages that necessarily tie into molecular levels, from microformations already shaping postures, attitudes, perceptions, expectations, semiotic systems, etc. Desire is never an undifferentiated instinctual energy, but itself results from a highly developed, engineered setup rich in interactions: a whole supple segmentarity that processes molecular energies and potentially gives desire a fascist determination.”
If you are familiar with the terms used, such as assemblages, then this is not that hard to get. They are simply saying that desire is not some fixed drive or energy, but a highly complex dynamic setup that affects how people behave. I think it’s worth emphasizing the very last bit in this passage. They are clearly stating that desire gains a fascist determination, but it is not inherent to desire. If this bit is ignored, it is easy to think them as saying that everyone is a fascist. Instead, they are saying everyone is potentially a fascist. Fascist desires depend on various factors that must be met. Therefore it is not an inherent or fixed quality or state in some or all people. This is not some battle between good vs. evil people. They (215) emphasize that fascism didn’t die out. In other words, it’s not a thing of the past because it never was something that functions at the macropolitical level. That’s why they (215) go on to state something that is still very contemporary:
“It’s too easy to be antifascist on the molar level, and not even see the fascist inside you, the fascist you yourself sustain and nourish and cherish with molecules both personal and collective.”
I’m not too fond of using language in which the body and the mind are held separate, but in colloquial terms they are saying that antifascist is actually a fascist because fascism is not a conscious choice, something that you do or some political affiliation but a state of mind. By state of mind I mean something not permanent or fixed. I guess it’s yet another becoming effectuated by assemblages. Perhaps it’s helpful here to point out that in their previous collaboration titled ‘Anti-Oedipus’ assemblages are referred to as desiring machines. Just don’t go thinking that desire here is to be understood as some subjective feeling of lust or the like. I’d say it’s more apt to think of it is how heterogeneous elements are drawn together at a certain time in a certain place. To make it a bit more complex, you can say that, for example, a relationship involves an assemblage, but it’s not some subject to another subject directed lust but the attraction or tension between people, as influenced by various other factors as well. That’s why I reckon it’s about being drawn together. It’s not fixed, despite the stable appearance, as people may know from experience. It does require mutual attraction to keep it going. Anyway, they (215) actually warn against labeling fascism as merely psychological as it is not only something that just in your head as you are always part of a collective (regardless of whether you are fascist or not).
Already in the first paragraph I stated that I’ll weave in bits from the ‘Anti-Oedipus’. You might be wondering what’s the point. Why go back to that book? Well, I’ll let Michel Foucault (xiii) explain, as he wrote the preface to ‘Anti-Oedipus’:
“The strategic adversary is fascism[.]”
So if you are really interested in the topic, how segmentarity is tied to fascism, there’s another book by Deleuze and Guattari in part dedicated to countering fascism. Now, it’s worth reminding that as you may have just read, unless you skipped to this point for some reason, fascism is not a molar concept and not to be confused with totalitarianism. Foucault (xiii) is very clear on this in the preface:
“And not only historical fascism, the fascism of Hitler and Mussolini – which was able to mobilize and use the desire of the masses so effectively – but also the fascism in us all, in our heads and in our everyday behavior, the fascism that causes us to love power, to desire the very thing that dominates and exploits us.”
Ah, yes, as I put it earlier on, it’s not something that can be easily countered because it’s not about opposing a regime or certain people. It’s not an entity. Instead it’s tied to us. Simply put, as I pointed out, while not ignoring national socialism and fascism in the first half of the 20th century, as well as Stalinism (or any other totalitarian -ism for that matter), Deleuze and Guattari push the notion of fascism to everyday behavior in both books. Foucault (xiii), admitting that he can’t actually speak on behalf of Deleuze and Guattari, characterizes their work, the ‘Anti-Oedipus’, as a book on ethics, how not to be a fascist, especially if one wants to be a revolutionary. He (xiii) foreshadows their views in the preface:
“How do we rid our speech and our acts, our hearts and our pleasures, of fascism? How do we ferret out the fascism that is ingrained in our behavior?”
That’s the word I was looking for earlier on, ingrained. Note that Foucault is not stating that it’s inherent to people. It’s rather a potential in us, something that can become part of people, ingrained in them. It works through desire (albeit Foucault didn’t like the word for it’s usually understood as having to do with a lack), making use of our will to power, to give it a Nietzschean spin. If you find yourself a bit on the lazy side, have a look at the preface by Foucault is not exactly too long to read, four pages to be exact. If you ask me, the summary is actually quite a good one in its bullet point form. Of course it’s not a substitute for the book, but it should help you get the gist of it as Foucault is in my opinion a bit more reader friendly than Deleuze and Guattari. It also echoes Foucault’s own views so there’s that as well. Well worth reading. What hits home with me is his (xiv) view on the individual, his tip on not demanding rights of the individual as, for him, “the individual is the product of power”, the subject is not a subject but a subject to, as in a subject to his or her majesty or highness. I’ve covered this before, so I don’t want to get tangled up on this, but I prefer Deleuze’s take on this, how he is clever to point out in his essay ‘Postscript on the Societies of Control’ that it’s more fitting to speak of dividuals rather than individuals as an individual is, by definition, indivisible, whereas a dividual is divisible. It is highly ironic to define yourself, claim to be this or that, as that is by practice the opposite of an individual, the indivisible. If you are truly individual, you do not divide yourself nor see any reason to do so. I’ve pointed it our in some of my earlier essays already, in reference to both Foucault and Deleuze and Guattari, but if you wish to be an individual, a name is perhaps all you need. When someone invokes the name, it is perfectly telling of that person. There’s no need to explain, you know perfectly well, inasmuch as you do. That is individuality. Anyway, conceptual differences aside, Foucault is, to my understanding, actually stating this, pointing out that what is known as individuality is far from individuality. This actually gets covered in more detail later on on the plateau on segmentarity. I won’t explain it more here, but I will get back to it in the follow up essay to this one.
Bringing in yet another person into the mix, in the English introduction to ‘Anti-Oedipus’, Mark Seem, one of the translators, ponders what Foucault also ponders in the preface. He (xvi) cites Wilhelm Reich, asking: “’How could the masses be made to desire their own repression?’” He (xvi) continues on this, stating that it’s generally understood as something that happens elsewhere, regardless where you are, really; “'[f]ascism is a phenomenon that took place elsewhere, something that could only happen to others, but not to us; it’s their problem.’” He (xvi) also notes how it’s not understood as being part of us, that is to say part of me or you (as me), but habitually someone else, the other, they are the bad guys, not me, not us.
After giving others have a say, Deleuze and Guattari (38) make the same observation in ‘Anti-Oedipus’ as the translator does (albeit it’s actually the other way around). They (38) credit Wilhelm Reich for demanding a better explanation than gullibility to the rise of fascism:
“[N]o, the masses were not innocent dupes; at a certain point, under a certain set of conditions, they wanted fascism, and it is this perversion of the desire of the masses that needs to be accounted for.”
This only to point out that they (38-39) don’t see Reich actually providing a satisfactory answer due to the attribution of the negative, the lack of this or that, inhibition or repression. To clarify this point, it’s worth noting that, like Foucault, Deleuze and Guattari are instead positive thinkers or at least so I would characterize them anyway. Simply put, in their view you don’t want something, desire it because you don’t have it. It’s not that something is missing and you need to get your daily dose or the like. This is why they (39) speak of desiring-production. To be more specific, no, it’s not to produce something in order to get the fix, the daily dose of this and/or that. As they (39) point out, “desire produces reality” and “desiring-production is one and the same thing as social production.” This risks going a bit off topic rapidly, but I liken this to the question of whether we have needs that the marketers, on behalf of some enterprise that is, seek to capitalize on, in our benefit of course, or whether they are actually pushing us to desire something. In my experience, they, the marketers, tend to claim the former, but I reckon it is the latter. Okay, sure, fair enough, a pie-hole needs pie and without water we’d perish, but it’s not that bread and water are marketed as serving to fulfill the bare necessities, to nourish you, to keep you alive. No, I reckon that to make most out of it, you want to jazz up that bread and water, make it something you, the customer, desire, not just require. At least carbonate the water. Otherwise it’s just aqua. Unless you want to emphasize it as just that, pure, pure aqua. Anyway, where was I, right, Deleuze and Guattari (257) address the issue again deep in the book:
“Desire can never be deceived. Interests can be deceived, unrecognized, or betrayed, but not desire. Whence Reich’s cry: no, the masses were not deceived, they desired fascism, and that is what has to be explained. I happens that one desires against one’s own interests: capitalism profits from this, but so does socialism, the party, and the party leadership.”
This is more or less the same observation they bring up again in ‘A Thousand Plateaus’. Simply put, fascism is a grassroots level phenomenon, one that crops up when the conditions give rise for it to be desirable. In their parlance, it’s molecular and it has to do with the assemblages, i.e. desiring machines. Fascists are not some existing people simply out there. Fascism is not an entity either as it’s not molar. It’s not to be confused with totalitarian regimes, even if such regimes can and do make use of fascism, be they left or right, socialist or capitalist. As I stated earlier on, you are missing the point if you don’t get what Deleuze and Guattari are after with their conceptualization of fascism. If it was a molar entity, it’d be rather easy to dispose of. The thing is that in their view it’s way worse than that. When you oppose a molar entity, it’s easy to forget that by opposing one regime, taking matters into your own hands, you are, by their definition becoming fascist. It’s not that you are a fascist, because, as I pointed out, it’s rather a state of mind. When the conditions are right for it, it crops up in us, like it or not. It actualizes all the sudden. That said, one shouldn’t simply ignore the molar level. It’s not like it doesn’t exist just because the focus is on the molecular level.
I reckon that I may be simply too abstract and so far given too distant or unfamiliar examples to explain the everyday nature of fascism as explained by Deleuze and Guattari. I realize that I maybe be way off here, as I try to give everyday examples, but I’m going to go ahead anyway. Feel free to ignore these bits if I’m simply off. As a premise here, it’s worth reiterating that for Deleuze and Guattari desire isn’t some subjective crave for this or that. If you state that you want, for example, the latest gadget, that’s not what they are after. It’s all very much under the hood, so it’s more about you ending up with some latest gadget, not claiming to want one. The same applies when it comes to fascism. It’s not that you state that what you want is order, for the sake of order. It’s rather that you find yourself, all the sudden, desiring such, even in the most humdrum situations. I must confess here, there are occasions where this just happens.
So, for example, when you are at a store and you know exactly what it is that you are there for, what it is that you wish to get and where in the store to find it, yet, somehow, just somehow, the only other person in the gigantic store just so happens to block your access to what you are after. That person has a shopping cart right there, on the spot, where you want to be. Now this is not a biggie, you can simply wait for that person to pick up something and move so that you can get the thing you are there for. You could just go for the next item in your shopping list in the meanwhile. You could also just ask for that person to move the shopping cart so that you can get on with it. Nevertheless, just the fact that the person is blocking your way, not by being there but by having the shopping cart take the space and not give a damn about others, makes your blood boil, to be hyperbolic here. It’s the same thing when people don’t take the right hand side (the left in the reverse setting) in escalators and on sidewalks. How. Hard. Can. It. Be? Now, there are no actual rules as to which side of the escalator or sidewalk your should stand or walk. It’s the same thing with the shopping cart. That said, I may just find myself wanting them to play by the rules. Whose rules? Well, see, that’s the deal. Those rules would be my rules. I’m the one wanting order and not just any order but order according to me. That’s your everyday fascism. Now, to my defense, I’m quite aware of such and I do not go telling people off for misbehaving in such and such manner. I think people can, for the most part, manage these things quite well and this sort of everyday oh-your-shopping-cart-is-blocking-me is not exactly something that is likely to result in a totalitarian regime. Then again, where I’m at things are pretty good these days, no hunger and strife, or the like. I don’t expect anyone to experiment on such, just to see if you then want order. I think a better way to exemplify how conditions affect you is to include, for example, sleep deprivation to the mix. I for sure can attest to how being super tired really puts you on the edge. All the sudden all those little things that really make no difference start to irk you. It’s as if people seem to be conveniently standing in your way, taking forever etc. Have someone wake you up randomly with only a couple hours of sleep in. All the sudden chaos is everywhere and you feel like it could use some order. Now imagine having actual problems…
References
- Deleuze, G. ([1990] 1992). Postscript on the Societies of Control. October, 59, 3–7
- Deleuze, G., and F. Guattari (1972). Capitalisme et schizophrénie: L’anti-Œdipe. Paris, France: Les Éditions de Minuit.
- Deleuze, G., and F. Guattari ([1972] 1977). Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia (R. Hurley, M. Seem and H. R. Lane, Trans.). Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press.
- Deleuze, G., and F. Guattari ([1980] 1987). A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia (B. Massumi, Trans.). Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press.