1. Money

Whoever pays their debts, makes themselves richer.
No: whoever doesn’t pay their debts, makes themselves richer.
Words are money, silence is golden.
Money has no smell.
Sometimes that’s true. “Whoever pays their debts gets richer” is not true. But that “money has no smell”?—in the broadest sense of the phrase? Yes, that’s true. What I mean is, money has no origin, it’s the same thing as saying it has no identity. It is, or has, no one. It’s pure circulation. No smell? Well, that of a corpse yes, but not always.
The cock sings, money doesn’t.
The cock sings—money screams.

2. Theft

Marguerite, do you steal?

No. And I feel guilty that I haven’t been able to. My fear is too great. All my friends, all my mates steal. And I feel really bad that I can’t do it. I have a fear—a real panicky fear, of stealing. I think it’s actually a displaced fear of the cops.

But nothing? No objects or—?

Oh no. I’ve done much more dangerous stuff than that—keeping watch for the Resistance, that was nothing for me, I can risk my neck for something much more important, but to steal a loaf of bread or a packet of sweets? I couldn’t do it. I do think it’s tied up with something else, to my political education, which didn’t cover that at all at the time, and anyway, theft is unchartered territory in politics—it needed to be invented. This needs to be done in all possible ways, it is not to be dictated by a theory, in any case. So on the one hand I never had that. And on the other—I think this [failure to steal] arises from a fear—from a physical fear—of the police, that I don’t want to question.

But you associate yourself with the thefts of people who surround you and who steal quite a bit?

Oh yes, for sure I’ll do whatever. For example I have friends who steal from bookshops, and I often go with them, and we walk with our arms around one another’s waists, so that they’re seen with me you understand, and so if they were stopped, I’d say to all the sales assistants oh no, no… But I have a real sense of guilt about it—this not stealing—and I suffer badly with that, but I just haven’t managed to take that step. Though one day I was almost arrested by the cops. We’d occupied the CNPF—I really did come close to being arrested because everyone was arrested that day—and when I saw the riot police barging in I opened the window, and they were about to grab me, you know I just jumped, I just threw myself into the void. And I think it’s that same fear. Even so, I fought in all the demos in ’68, in spite of this fear, because it was a risk taken by everyone, by the masses, but to take that risk alone, to find oneself facing the cops alone—I’d have the feeling I was being swallowed up by the darkness. And one of the most difficult things I did in this sense was to take the word out onto the street, when I was in the Party, or go from door to door selling pamphlets because quite often people told you to fuck off, and people often threatened to call the cops, but I was doing it in the name of the Party, not so much as an individual, if I found myself face to face with them—the cops—as a private individual, I would find that staggeringly unbearable. This fear is unconquerable. Well, I could also find in this a sort of Gidean sense of gratitude: I don’t need to steal books as such. I don’t need to steal bread. Or meat or—I don’t know—sweets or whatever. Clothes? I couldn’t care less. I don’t need to steal them. So that would be a bit intellectual on my part—to steal. I could steal for others perhaps; I should try to steal for someone else. For my son, for example. I don’t know. I could try it. But no, I don’t think I will manage it. It’s too deep-rooted a fear, too anchored. As if a millionaire’s fear had been displaced onto me. Like that. I feel like that. Towards myself.

Fear of repression is perhaps also a woman’s fear.

Starship 17: Cover Park McArthur, Martin Ebner
  1. Shibuya/Sumida Martin Ebner
  2. Some follow up questions Park McArthur
  3. Editorial #17 Starship, Gerry Bibby, Ariane Müller, Nikola Dietrich, Henrik Olesen, Martin Ebner
  4. New York City in 1979, shot in 1981 Anne Turyn, Chris Kraus
  5. E.very D.amn C.olor Eric D. Clark
  6. Then I wanted to make a happy end for once Ariane Müller, Verena Kathrein
  7. Answering Lagos Dunja Herzog
  8. Fashion Fiction Eduardo Costa
  9. Hello world Vera Tollmann, Stephanie Fezer
  10. Social bodies Mercedes Bunz
  11. Saint Lucy Luzie Meyer
  12. The Overworked Body: An Anthology of 2000s Dress Robert McKenzie, Matthew Linde
  13. Untitled (waiting for trouble) Tony Conrad
  14. #PLZ, RESCHYKLI$CCH Karl Holmqvist
  15. Life, Liberty, and Data Antek Walczak
  16. Eine schmutzig-weisse Schweizerin Hans-Christian Dany
  17. Butterrr Mikhail Wassmer
  18. Botanical Quinn Latimer
  19. Marie Angeletti; Les veaux, les agneaux Marie Angeletti
  20. Insect Love Tenzing Barshee
  21. In the Name of Jakob Kolding
  22. Pavilion-in-Parts. A Logbook. Florian Zeyfang
  23. 2017, Year of the L.I.E. Jay Chung
  24. Schriftproben bei Vergiftungen Stefan Burger
  25. Flightless Gerry Bibby
  26. Der Beautiful Books Club (BBC) Stephan Janitzky
  27. The Provenance of Privilege in the Primary Market Mitchell Anderson
  28. MD / NS Natasha Soobramanien
  29. Time Warner Some Notes on Now Monika Senz
  30. Image is an Orphan Shahryar Nashat
  31. The Bavarian Vampire 1–4 Veit Laurent Kurz, Levi Easterbrooks
  32. Indefinite Violence David Bussel
  33. Because of you I know that I exist Viktor Neumann
  34. Discarded Sounds (Intro) Robert Meijer
  35. Verweile doch Theresa Patzschke
  36. rare fragments from the notebook of an unspecified archetype Scott Cameron Weaver
  37. Starship 17 Julian Göthe
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