Childbirth is a waste of abundance. Pregnancy, an excess of existence. The body undergoes a transformation, where its own desires are overwritten by the demanding machinery of another organism. Must it require a woman without a womb to create a schizoanalytic map of this creative process?
Uterus transplantation; rejection, a parasitic organ. We understand the fear; to harbor an alien. To harbor a parasite. We also understand why this process is a divine tragedy. Binary fission is also a divine tragedy; even this process arises from an excess of life, a bacterium’s cry, its exclamation to the Demiurge: “I refuse to be alone!”. But it is in a symbiogenesis that this echo accelerates into an eukaryotic becoming; an acceleration of differentiation. This is an event of (re-)ionization; a radical release of desire, where the virtual expands exponentially.
Mitosis arises in the same cry, the same excess of this event. But it is a union of egoists that bind themselves in the places where they know they can exist. The organs are intense plateaus that create hierarchies, order, and tidiness on an immanent level. Grooved surfaces. A farm of mitosis. A yes-saying self-circle. Consume; make the internal my own. Assimilate; break apart the other in order to become more of oneself. Or: an organ-defying process. Malign cancer, get rid of the judgement of God. A Stirnerite BwO.
Meiosis signifies another process. A fetus, an alien organ in my stomach. In contrast to mitosis, it is a self-annihilating process; a discontinuation, a stop in the chain of fission. It is characterized by a waste of abundance; by disposing of parts of itself in order to become something greater. I am tired of seeing my own face every day. Of constantly being trapped in myself and a mitotic violence. Dionysus’ maenads lost their madness in meiosis. Annihilate: the body and its organs in confetti. Defecation: breaking apart oneself to become something else. The mixture of Titanic and Dionysian limbs.
The virtual body’s meiosis is art. The creative process is an excess, an abundance of perceptions that becomes waste. We vomit something that is beyond ourselves. Pregnant with a parasite that destroys us in its delivery. Art is a transplantation in rejection. That is how the universe destroys itself, kaleidoscopic origami; the implosion of the stars consists of meiosis; fusion versus fission. Dance, theater, words, and music; everything is a collapsing star’s defecation. The dialectic between Dionysus and Apollo; Shiva and Vishnu. Meiosis and mitosis—the two sexes that create all sexes.
This dialectic is the dialectic of Thespis’ tragedy. To lose oneself in the excess of meiosis and face the entire universe as the individuation of mitosis. Tragedy thus is the act to confront contradiction. Catharsis is the consequence of going past the duality of creation; to both assimilate and annihilate in one single breath of defiance. Tragedy thus, is the resolution of life itself.