Monday, 27 June 2022
Zhuangzi did not imagine a world structured like a tree. His picture of the world more resembled what in biology is called a rhizome, which in Deleuze’s philosophy is a concept of a network “without beginning or end, always in the middle, between things.”
COOK Ding was cutting the flesh off the newly-slaughtered ox—and Lord Wenhui, who was watching all the while—was astonished. Whenever Ding’s hand slashed with his knife, whenever his shoulder heaved, whenever his feet moved, and whenever the ox carcass swung and its bones were cut, there was sound. Not a clash, but rather something beautiful, rhythmic, elegant, “like the dance of the Mulberry Grove or keeping tim...
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