Ulysses ou les destinations impossibles

Abstract

Ulysses or the repetition. Of a new sort, contesting the authority of origins which, allegedly would give sense to the real, the letter of which would be coextensive with. “Jehovah, collector of prepuces, is no more.” Orphans therefore you are, making your way across these landsacapes of fiction drawn by the Protean and Circean game of analogies and simulacra.

For “that’s only words, there’s nothing else. You must go on.” In their echolalic multitude, you will follow Dedalus towards the joyful irreverence of signs pointing at impossible destinations but their own.