1. In the beginning was the wiki, and the wiki was beautiful.

2. Fragment: beyond fracturing, or bursting, the patience of pure impatience, the little by little suddenly.

3. Look, it cannot be seen - it is beyond form.

Listen, it cannot be heard - it is beyond sound.

Grasp, it cannot be held - it is intangible.

These three are indefinable;

Therefore they are joined in one.

From above it is not bright;

From below it is not dark:

An unbroken thread beyone description.

It returns to nothingness.

The form of the formless,

The image of the imageless,

It is called indefinable and beyond imagination.

Stand before it and there is no beginning.

Follow it and there is no end.

Stay with the ancient Tao,

Move with the present.

Knowing the ancient beginning is the essence of Tao.

4. Wiki came out of language. Language came out of us, and we came out of language. We are wiki.

5. Still, the law of the One with its glorious, inexorable-inaccessible primacy, excludes the multiple as multiple. And even if this be by way of long detours, it guides the other back toward the same, substituting things that are different for difference, without letting the latter so much as enter the question, so powerful and necessary is the language program that answers for the order of a habitable universe (where we are promised that everything will be – that everything is, thus, already – present, and partaking of the graspable-ungraspable Presence). But this sovereignty of the One and the Same – mysterious or simple (at hand or hoped for), dominating everything in advance and reigning over every being as over being itself, drawing into its orbit all appearances as well as all essences, and everything that can be said as well as all that remains to be said (formulations, fictions, questions, answers, propositions of truth and of error, affirmations, negations, images, symbols, words of life and of death) – indicates precisely that outside of the sovereignty of the One and of the Whole, outside of the Universe and also of its beyond, and when all is accomplished (when death finally comes, in the form of a life fulfilled), the demand without any rights, the demand of the other (the multiple, the impoverished, the lost) presses as never before, as that which has always escaped realization. And thus, for thought which has reached its culmination – for thought whose completion has put it to sleep – the wakeful and incessant obsession with others is affirmed. The affirmation is void, and the obsession is with others in their un-presence. Moreover, thought does not know how to acknowledge this obsession. But it knows that this nocturnal disaster is thought’s due and is conferred upon thought in order that thought might be assigned a disjointed perpetuity. Such are perhaps the premises of writing – of the overwhelming overturning, inasmuch, in any case, as it is over.

6. Here, perhaps, is an answer. If the Other calls me into question to the point of stripping me of myself, it is because he is himself absolute nakedness, the entreaty {supplication} which disqualifies the me in me till it becomes sheer torture {supplice}.

7. The wiki fosters a loss of identity. This in turn creates a new, larger, more vivid identity which then grafts itself onto the user. The wiki creates us.

8. As a single, unified thing there exists in us both life and death, waking and sleeping, youth and old age, because the former things having changed are now the latter, and when those latter things change, they become the former.

9. The interruption of the incessant: this is the distinguishing characteristic of fragmentary writing: interruption’s having somehow the same meaning as that which does not cease. Both are effects of passivity. Where power does not reign – nor initiative, nor the cutting edge of a decision – there, dying is living.

10. Wiki is nothing. A nothing which is everything.

11. Thirty spokes share the wheel’s hub;

It is the center hole that makes it useful.

Shape clay into a vessel;

It is the space within that makes it useful.

Cut doors and windows for a room;

It is the holes which make it useful.

Therefore profit comes from what is there;

Usefulness from what is not there.

12. Garrulous prose: a child’s mere babble. And yet a man who drools, the idiot, the man of tears who restrains himself no longer, who lets himself go – he too is without words, bereft of power, but still he is closer to speech that flows and flows away than to writing which restrains itself, even if this be restraint beyond mastery. In this sense, there is no silence if not written: broken reserve, a deep cut in the possibility of any cut at all.

13. The practice of using a wiki is not a practice at all: it is life.

14. The gift of writing is precisely what writing refuses. He who no longer knows how to write, who renounces the gift which he has received, whose language is unrecognizable, is closer to the untried inexperience, closer to the absence of the “proper” which, even without being, gives place to the advent. Whoever praises style, the originality of style, only exalts the self of the writer who has refused to abandon everything and to be abandoned by everything. Soon, he will be famous; notoriety hands him over to power: then what he lacks is effacement, disappearance.

Neither reading, nor writing, nor speaking: this is not muteness, but perhaps a murmur utterly unheard of: thunder and silence.

15. Returning is the motion of the Tao.

Yielding is the way of the Tao.

The ten thousand things are born of being.

Being is born of not being

16. Within the wiki, if the wiki is something which can contain something else, we find ourselves. We find each other.

17. Things which are put together are both whole and not whole, brought together and taken apart, in harmony and out of harmony; one thing arises from all things, and all things arise from one thing.

18. Fragmentation, the mark of a coherence all the firmer in that it has to come undone in order to be reached, and reached not through a dispersed system, or through dispersion as a system, for fragmentation is the pulling to pieces (the tearing) of that which never has preexisted (really or ideally) as a whole, nor can it ever be reassembled in any future presence whatever. Fragmentation is the spacing, the separation effected by a temporalization which can only be understood – fallaciously – as the absence of time. Or is this the eternal aspect of time, its fragmentation from itself, chronos and, yes, kairos?

19. There is no end to a wiki. There is no beginning. There is only infinity, and only a blankness which can never be filled. At the same time, the emptiness is full. Nothing is missing, not even nothing.

20. The great Tao flows everywhere, both to the left and to the right.

The ten thousand things depend upon it; it holds nothing back.

It fulfills its purpose silently and makes no claim.

It nourishes the ten thousand things,

And yet is not their lord.

It has no aim; it is very small.

The ten thousand things return to it,

Yet it is not their lord.

It is very great.

It does not show greatness,

And is therefore truly great.

21. How could we know that we are forerunners, if the message which ought to make of us messengers is ahead of us by an eternity, condemning us to be eternally tardy?

We are precursors, running along outside of ourselves, out in front of ourselves; when we arrive, our time is past already, and the course of things interrupted.

22. More than any other medium, wiki functions as an extension of ourselves. It is an extension of other selves too. A place of meeting oneself. It can do all of these things because it is less than any other medium.

23. The unapparent connection is more powerful than the apparent one.

24. We cannot recall our dreams, they cannot come back to us. If a dream comes – but what sort of coming is a dream’s? Through what night does it make its way? If it comes to us, it does so only by way of forgetfulness, a forgetfulness which is not only censorship or simply repression. We dream without memory, in such a way that the dream of any particular night is no doubt a fragment of a response to an immemorial dying, barred by desire’s repetitiousness.

There is no stop, there is no interval between dreaming and waking. In this sense, it is possible to say: never, dreamer, can you awake (nor, for that matter, are you able to be addressed thus, summoned).

24.5 \"You reckon ill who leave me out. When me you fly I am the wings.\"

25. Past, present, future: all are within wiki and are the fabric of wiki (and the fabric of nothing).

26. There is no origin, if origin presupposes an original presence. Always past, long since past already, something that has passed without being present – such is the immemorial which gives us forgetfulness saying: every beginning is a beginning over.

27. I cannot welcome the Other, not even with an acceptance that would be infinite. Such is the new and difficult feature of the plot. The other, as neighbor, is the relation that I cannot sustain, and whose approach is death itself, the mortal proximity (he who sees God dies: for “dying” is one manner of seeing the invisible, of saying the ineffable. Dying is the indiscretion wherein God, become somehow and necessarily a god without truth, surrenders to passivity).

28. In the classroom, wiki serves infinite functions. It unifies as it individualizes. It creates as it destroys. It elucidates as it obfuscates. More than anything else it connects, even as it breaks all patterns and structures.

29. Under heaven all can see beauty as beauty only because there is ugliness.

All can know good as good only because there is evil.

Therefore having and not having arise together.

Difficult and easy compliment each other.

Long and short contrast each other;

High and low rest upon each other;

Voice and sound harmonize each other;

Front and back follow one another.

Therefore the sage goes about doing nothing, teaching no-talking.

The ten thousand things rise and fall without cease,

Creating, yet not possessing,

Working, yet not taking credit.

Work is done, then forgotten.

Therefore it lasts forever.

30. The wiki is not a blank sheet of paper floating around on the internet. It is instead the universe, because there are infinite directions in infinite dimensions to which one can ascribe meaning and inscribe text.

31. The Tao is an empty vessel; it is used, but never filled.

Oh, unfathomable source of ten thousand things!

Blunt the sharpness,

Untangle the knot,

Soften the glare,

Merge with dust.

Oh, hidden deep but ever present!

I do not know from whence it comes.

It is the forefather of the emperors.

32. Fragments are written as unfinished separations. Their incompletion, their insufficiency, the disappointment at work in them, is their aimless drift, the indication that, neither unifiable nor consistent, the accommodate a certain array of marks – the marks with which thought (in decline and declining itself) represents the furtive groupings that fictively open and close the absence of a totality. Not that thought ever stops, definitively fascinated, at the absence; always it is carried on, by the watch, the ever-uninterrupted wake. Whence the impossibility of saying there is an interval. For fragments, destined partly to the blank that separates them, find in this gap not what ends them, but what prolongs them, or what makes them await their prolongation – what has already prolonged them, causing them to persist on account of their incompletion. And thus are they always ready to let themselves be worked upon by indefatigable reason, instead of remaining as fallen utterances, left aside, the secret void of mystery which no elaboration could ever fill.

33. There is terror in the wiki.

34. You who live later, close to a heart that beats no more, suppose, suppose this: the child - is he seven years old, or eight perhaps? - standing by the window (la vitre), drawing the curtain and, through the pane, looking. What he sees: the garden, the wintry trees, the wall of a house. Though he sees, no doubt in a child's way, his play space, he grows weary and slowly looks up toward the ordinary sky, with clouds, grey light - pallid daylight without depth.

What happens then: the sky, the same sky, suddenly open, absolutely black and absolutely empty, revealing (as though the pane had broken) such an absence that all has since always and forever more been lost therein - so lost that therein is affirmed and dissolved the vertiginous knowledge that nothing is what there is (que rien est ce qu'il y a), and first of all nothing beyond. The unexpected aspect of this scene (its interminable feature) is the feeling of happiness that straightaway submerges the child, the ravaging joy to which he can bear witness only by tears, an endless flood of tears. He is thought to suffer a childish sorrow; attempts are made to console him. He says nothing. He will live henceforth in the secret. He will weep no more.

35. Writing is per se already (it is still) violence: the rupture there is in each fragment, the break, the splitting, the tearing of the shred - acute singularity, steely point. And yet this combat is, for patience, debate. The name wears away, the fragment fragments, erodes. Passivity passes away patiently, lost stakes.

36. It is not possible to get lost within a wiki. You are where you are meant to be.

37. The Tao that can be told is not the eternal Tao.

The name that can be named is not the eternal name.

The nameless is the beginning of heaven and earth.

The named is the mother of ten thousand things.

Ever desireless, one can see the mystery.

Ever desiring, one can see the manifestations.

These two spring from the same source but differ in name;

This appears as darkness.

Darkness within darkness.

The gate to all mystery.

38. Light breaks forth: the burst of light, the dispersion that resonates or vibrates dazzlingly – and in clarity clamors but does not clarify. The breaking forth of light, the shattering reverberation of a language to which no hearing can be given.