by Jason Morelyle I am not an addict. I am the addict. The addict I invented to keep this show on the junk road. I am all the addicts and all the junk in the world. I am junk and I am hooked forever. Now I am using junk as a basic illustration. Extend it. I am reality and I am hooked, on, reality. —William S. Burroughs, ‘The Beginning is Also the End’ (BF 62) Maybe the target is not to discover who we are but to refuse who we are. —Michel Foucault, ‘The Subject and Power’ Addiction and control: in the work of William S. Burroughs, the two issues are inextricably and irrevocably bound together. The concepts of ‘power’, ‘control’, ‘control machine’, and ‘control society’ are crucial aspects of Burroughs’s trajectory; as elements in the equation of his ‘lifelong preoccupation’ (Q xxiii), manifestations of control are treated with varying degrees of intensity throughout his work, and its drives and stratagems within such discursive formations as the mass media, organized religion, the government, the State, the nuclear family, science, institutionalized medicine, Western capitalist technocracies, instrumental reason, and, importantly, language (the Word) are represented in multifarious variations. Moreover, addiction, ‘the algebra of need’, functions as a kind of counterpoint, a sinister collaborator invested in the machinations of control: addiction to capital, addiction to materialism, addiction to the media, even addiction to the ego, subjectivity and notions of ‘self’. As Timothy S. Murphy proposes in his superb work, Wising Up the Marks: The Amodern William Burroughs (1997), subjectivity in Burroughs’s work ‘itself is a form of addiction to language, to the “I” of self-consciousness and identity as an instrument of control, both of the phenomenal world by the “I” and of the “I” itself by the ideological structure of its socius’. When subjectivity is seen as a form of addiction in Burroughs’s work we can begin to chart how he uses addiction as a trope for subjectivity, attempting, in effect, to re-inscribe or rescript how subjectivity is formed in a society of control. In other words, Burroughs’s work contains resources not simply for theorizing, but also for resisting control, especially in his representations of the socalled drug addict, a figure that is often understood as a subject formed at the limits of ‘straight’ society. There are many examples throughout Burroughs’s work that suggest how the drama of resistance might unfold, and perhaps one of the more compelling means through which he approaches this problem is through the rescripting or rewriting of subjectivity to determine methods of thinking about and moving toward ‘freedom’ under a regime of control. As Michel Foucault noted some months before his death, it is imperative that we promote ‘new forms of subjectivity’ through the refusal of certain kinds of individualities and subjectivities that have been imposed on us (Foucault 1983:216). As a figure of subjectivity, Burroughs’s rendering of addiction provides a means of grasping how subjectivity is formed by power through the subjectivation (assujetissement) of a control society, where this term designates both the ‘becoming’ of the subject and the processes of subjection itself (Butler 1997:83). In order to understand the implications of what a society of control might be, we must come to terms with new forms of subjectivity that emerge from the new relations or ‘diagram’ of power that comprises such a society. Burroughs’s work not only offers us a way of beginning to grasp what form this new subjectivity might assume, but it also provides blueprints for how we can begin conceptualizing the possibility of a resistant subject. In other words, Burroughs’s rendering of ‘addiction’ can be read as a trope of subjectivity, but a subjectivity that is formulated specifically as strategically resistant to a control society: under the regime of control and junk, the addicted subject is a resistant, modulatory subject who realizes, like Mr Martin, ‘The Man of a Thousand Lies’ quoted in the epigraph, that there are ‘realities’ alternative to those imposed by control that can be generated by alternative subjectivities. Although in many respects the emergence of the concept of addiction and the taxonomy of the addict as we have come to know it today are largely symptoms and side-effects of the growing dominance of nineteenth-century Western politico-medical discourse, many commentators have persuasively argued that the concept of ‘drug’ (the ‘supplement’) and the ‘logic’ of addiction are deeply embedded in the historicity of Western culture as a whole, a ‘structure that is philosophically and metaphysically at the basis of our culture’ (Ronell 1992:13). The meaning of the term ‘addiction’ can be traced to the Latin verb addicere, which in Roman law referred to a formal ‘giving over’ or delivery by sentence of court and implied a surrender, or dedication, of the sentence to a master. To be both literally and figuratively ‘sentenced’—simultaneously condemned and bound by language—suggests, according to David Lenson, that the user has lost control of language and of consciousness itself, and that the user is, in a way, ‘spoken’ for by another: ‘Instead of saying, one is said’ (1995:35). It is telling that ‘addiction’ implies that one is acted upon or spoken for by an external-madeinternal entity. One facet of Burroughs’s approach to addiction falls very much along these lines, signaling an internalized possession, a kind of subjectivation of a user by some externalized force or entity usually figured as the ‘controllers’, the Nova Mob, and so on. Yet it is also interesting that the ‘addict’—as emerging from the disciplinary enclosure of institutionalized medicine and psychiatry—is traditionally viewed by these disciplines as being ‘possessed’, because it is just this definition that Burroughs tries to disassemble. In Burroughs, the subject-as-addict, the modulatory subject, attempts to release himself from the nightmare of possession, from the trap of being spoken for by an-other; the definition of addiction in the traditional sense is implicitly a definition of the control society itself, something that Burroughs spent his entire life describing and attempting to eradicate. POWER, DISCIPLINE, CONTROL Power, for Foucault, is a ‘multiplicity of force relations’, the name one attributes to a ‘complex strategical situation’ in society (Foucault 1976:92–3), and a heterogeneous network that circulates through the sociopolitical whole in a ‘capillary’ fashion. Because power cannot be ‘sought in the primary existence of a central point’, power should not be thought of as a ‘privilege’ that is possessed, or as an ‘institution’ or ‘structure’ that assumes the ‘sovereignty of the state [and] the form of law’ (Foucault 1975:26); power is not a strength one is endowed with (Foucault 1976:93), a material ‘thing’ that can be consciously transferred, exchanged, and directed at a given class or individual, and is not ‘a general system of domination exerted by one group over another’. Power, then, is not hierarchical, flowing from the top down, but ‘comes from below’—that is, it is a mobile and localized field of relations, ‘self-producing’, ‘everywhere’, and ‘exercised from innumerable points’ not because it can consolidate ‘everything under its invincible unity, but because it is produced from one moment to the next […] in every relation from one point to another’ (93–4). Power is decentralized and relational, a strategy performed through a variety of social and political practices in society. As such, power is not ‘external’ to or ‘outside’ of social relations, but constitutive of and coextensive with them. Importantly, Foucault conceives of power as positive and productive, and insists that it should not be thought of in negative terms, as dominating, repressive, or exclusionary: ‘We must cease once and for all to describe the effects of power in negative terms: it “excludes”, it “represses”, it “censors”, it abstracts, it “masks”, it “conceals”. Power produces. It produces reality, produces knowledge, and produces domains of objects and rituals of truth’ (Foucault 1975:194). This, then, is where the analyst or, to use Foucault’s term, genealogist of power must focus her attention, on the interrelation between knowledge and power, because just as it is ‘not possible for power to be exercised without knowledge’ it is ‘impossible for knowledge not to engender power’ (Foucault 1977:52). For Foucault, discourses are self-referential ‘coherent’ bodies of statements that produce versions of reality by generating ‘knowledge’ about concepts or objects; hence, discourses ‘write the rules’ about what can be known and said about—for example, medical discourses, legal discourses, discourses about science, politics, and the insane. ‘Knowledge is that of which one can speak in a discursive practice, and which is specified by that fact: the domain constituted by the different objects that will or will not acquire a scientific status’ (Foucault 1969:201). The analysis of discourse must take place at the level of determining how and where subjects or objects of knowledge emerge, what new relations of power they might effect, and how regimes of ‘truth’ are produced. ‘Truth is linked in a circular relation with systems of power which produce and sustain it, and to effects of power which it induces and which extend it into a “regime” of truth’ (Foucault 1980b:133). Foucault uses an analytics of power and discourse in an attempt to ‘create a history of the different modes […] [so that] human beings are made into subjects’ (Foucault 1983:208). Crucially, the subject is not only constituted in power, but constituted by it: power does not operate upon or outside relationships, but across and through them. Power produces, forms, and initiates the subject through the ‘primary submission’ of subjection, where ‘power is not simply what we oppose but also, in a strong sense, what we depend on for our very existence […] [what] initiates and sustains our agency’ (Butler 1997:2). In this way, we see how the focus is not so much on power per se, but on the subject and the formation of the subject through subjectivation. In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, Foucault contends, disciplinary power began to emerge in response to monarchicalbased juridical forms of power that understood power as repressive and negative; disciplinary power, on the other hand, is necessarily positive, a kind of ‘nonsovereign’ power (Foucault 2002:36) that produces docile bodies with maximum efficiency, a ‘unitary technique by which the body is reduced as a “political” force at the least cost and maximized as a useful force’ (Foucault 1975:221). Disciplinary power and its technologies, understood as one of ‘bourgeois society’s great inventions’, was instrumental in the formation of industrial capitalism and its corresponding culture (Foucault 2002:36; 1975:221) and materialized in a variety of forms: military barracks, schools, factories, hospitals, and prisons. The point was that such technologies extracted time, labor, and usefulness from consenting, docile bodies, rather than the commodities and wealth that the sovereign model demanded. Hence, since the emergence of disciplinary power, what we have in modern society is the shift from an administration of force (sovereign) to an administration by compliance (discipline). Taking Michel Foucault’s meditations on power and government as an implicit starting point, Gilles Deleuze captures the sense of what a control society may be when he contends that over the course of the twentieth century, our society has been confronted with a general crisis in relation to all ‘environments of enclosure’ and has registered a new formulation or ‘diagram’ of power; we have, he claims, been undergoing a transformation from a disciplinary society to a society of control or ‘modulation’ (Deleuze 1990:3). Although the society of control is defined very differently from the sovereign regimes of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries and the ‘modern’ disciplinary regimes of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, this does not necessarily mean that these two regimes have completely disappeared. As Foucault contends, we must see such transitions not in terms of a ‘replacement of a society of sovereignty by a disciplinary society’ or the replacement of a ‘disciplinary society by a society of government’; rather, we should see it ‘as a triangle, sovereignty–discipline–government’ (Foucault 1978:102). Just as some features of a sovereign regime remain in a disciplinary society, so do features of disciplinary society remain in a society of control. As Michael Hardt points out, power never leaves a vacuum. Instead, what we are seeing in a society of control is not so much a complete disintegration of environments of enclosure such as the prison, the family, or the factory, but rather the ‘generalization of the logics’ of disciplinary institutions ‘across the entire society, spreading like a virus’ (1998:30–1). Control societies will employ many strategies of disciplinary regimes, in that the authority of disciplinary regimes is no longer contained in particular institutions and environments of enclosure, but is spread out in a ‘continuous network’ (Deleuze 1990:5) in which the socius is not ‘emptied of the disciplinary institutions but completely filled with the modulations of control’ (Hardt 1998:31). In a society of control, all disciplinary institutions—education, policing, psychiatry, production—subsume every aspect of experience so that the object of these institutions is life itself. Just as discipline entails a discontinuous molding of the individual who is ‘always starting again’ and who ‘never ceases passing from one closed environment to the next’ (Deleuze 1990:4, 2), in a society of control ‘one is never finished with anything’ (4). The distinction between the two can be seen in the difference between a limited, segregated incarceration and the limitless postponements of continuous variation. Where disciplinary practice molded behavior and fashioned subjects, practices of control continuously modulate and integrate. As such, the connection between society and State is no longer seen in the ‘mediation and organization’ of disciplinary institutions, but rather in how the State is set ‘in motion directly through the perpetual circuitry of social production’ (Hardt 1998:31). Like a sovereign regime or a disciplinary society, however, the modus operandi of control society is power, and the ways in which power is integrated into social life; the difference is that this integration takes place in an increasingly synthesized, complete and total fashion. Thus, a society of control, like a society of sovereignty or disciplinarity, is still rooted in the ‘diagram’ (Deleuze 1986:70–93) of power. Although its strategies and relational formulae are modified, the power/knowledge equation still remains the concomitant force. Power may never leave a vacuum, but its strategies and relations do shift, especially when it comes to resistance to power itself. A society of control will not set out to contain or limit resistance as in a regime of sovereignty or discipline, but will instead seek to diffuse it. Burroughs’s understanding of control directly addresses this issue because he recognizes that the subject—the ‘agent’ Inspector Lee, for instance—resists control on a continuous basis while also being thoroughly dependent on it. Perhaps one of the more important ways that a society of control is formulated in Burroughs’s work is in the figure of junk, where the ‘theory’ of junk and junk addiction itself is troped into a ‘general’ theory of power, a ‘mold of monopoly and possession’ (NL xxxvi). Throughout Burroughs’s corpus of work, not only are subjectivity and language shaped, affected and infected by the overriding theme of control/junk, these mechanisms are manifestations of control/junk. However, Burroughs’s taxonomy of addiction can be profitably understood as other than being simply ‘addiction’ in the normative sense; junk and junk addiction can be seen, he writes, as a ‘cellular equation that teaches the user facts of general validity’ (J xvi). Burroughs is implicitly stating that the subject, formed within a control society, is dependent on the relations of power that comprise that society for its sense of self. ‘Facts’ of general validity here are read as structures of knowledge, regimes of truth, and systems of ‘word and image’—the very ‘facts’ that work in and through subjectivation. The challenge for both Burroughs and Foucault, however, lies in the fact that power does not simply suppress the subject; it produces the subject as well. The subject needs power like it needs junk because it is only through such a dependency that it can be recognized within the category of ‘subject’ itself. Subjectivity—what Burroughs sometimes refers to as the ‘human form’ (BF 64)—is thoroughly dependent on ‘word and image’ (see 64–5), and as such is both limited and created by the discursive mechanisms of word and image (see 45–6). ‘[I]mage is junk’ (NE 52) and ‘junk is image’ (9 [note]), Burroughs maintains, and addiction to junk constitutes normative subjectivity itself—that which must be subverted. This, of course, is one of the central problems facing Burroughs, because if subjectivity—addiction—is the system that we must all struggle against, then the only tool we have in this struggle is subjectivity itself. Coming to terms with this problem is a matter of formulating the ways in which power is organized, be it through the stratagems of disciplinarity or the maneuverings of a society of control. In this sense, the troping of junk and junk addiction into a ‘general’ theory of power is reminiscent of Foucault’s notion of power; junk, like power, is everywhere and nowhere, a modulated space without a circumference or a middle, and as such, one ‘becomes addicted’ to power-as-addiction, dependent on it not only for one’s understanding of the world, but for one’s sense of self as well: There is no true or real ‘reality’—’Reality’ is simply a more or less constant scanning pattern—The scanning pattern we accept as ‘reality’ has been imposed by the controlling power on this planet, a power primarily oriented towards total control. (NE 53) The ‘imposition’ of ‘reality’ by the ‘controlling power’ resonates with the ‘pyramid of junk’ outlined in the deposition-introduction to Naked Lunch, where ‘one level [eats] the level below […] right up to the top or tops since there are many junk pyramids feeding on peoples of the world and all built on principles of monopoly’ (NL xxxvi). Given the attributes of ‘monopoly’, ‘imposition’, and ‘controlling’, it would seem that Burroughs is portraying a hierarchical or transcendental model of power: sovereign, top-down, and utilitarian. However, those at the ‘top’ of the pyramid are just as implicated in the system as those at the ‘bottom’ because junk, the ‘evil virus’, like power, is a heterogeneous network and does not recognize or ‘need’ hierarchical systems to function: ‘[the] junk merchant does not sell his product to the consumer, he sells the consumer to his product’ (NL xxxvii). The ‘product’—in this case, in the form of junk and power that ‘constitutes’ reality—is not an ‘object’ to be passed around or imposed on another, but is in effect that which is doing the passing. Junk, like power, is not hierarchical, flowing from the top down, but ‘comes from below’, in a mobile field of relations that is everywhere, and ‘exercised from innumerable points’. Burroughs’s rendering of the control/power/junk formula as constituent of ‘reality’ allows for a highly innovative and radicalized understanding of the world and oneself because, as a figuration of power, addiction provides a means of understanding those relations of power that make ‘possible’ the range of ethics, knowledges, actions, and experiences that mold the field of relationships that circumscribes the process of subject formation, a procedure that points to the potential development of new forms of subjectivity. This figuring of junk advances an understanding of control and power alternative to that of a ‘top down’ structure. Burroughs is adamant that locating power in a sovereign entity such as the State, and resisting it based on that assumption, only results in replicating that oppressive system: ‘Doktor Kurt Unruh von Steinplatz writes: “He who opposes force alone forms that which he opposes and is formed by it” ’ (BF 106). RESISTANCE, RESCRIPTION, AND MODULATORY SUBJECTIVITYA society of control permeates the entirety of social life, submitting subjects to specific ways of acting, thinking, and existing beyond the confines of disciplinary enclosures where subjectivation takes place on a continuous and contiguous basis. In a control society, discourses are no longer limited to specific domains, but have spilled over and saturated the total field of relations. Recalling that truth is linked in a circular relation with systems of power that produce and sustain it, in a society of control this circular relation is compressed, and truth and power become even more inextricably connected than they were in previous disciplinary regimes. When truth and power are coexistent, there is no need for disciplines, no need for institutions of policing, education, or medicine, because these institutions are everywhere. As Burroughs points out, in a society of complete control, ‘[n]o police force is necessary’ (AM 117). This is why, according to Burroughs, we must avoid reproducing certain forms of control when resisting a society of control; hence, we must move towards initiating new ways of thinking. Towards the end of his life, Foucault became more and more concerned with the notion of detaching power from truth towards the possibility of ‘constituting a new politics of truth’ (Foucault 1980b:133) and initiating new forms of subjectivity. In a society of control, this mode of thinking becomes more and more difficult: ‘“New concepts can only arise when one achieves a measure of disengagement from enemy conditions. On the other hand disengagement is difficult in a concentration camp is it not?” ’ (BF 106). The ‘altered self’ or a ‘new form’ of subjectivity is represented in the addict-as-subject and emerges as a modulatory subject directly engaged in the strategic games of power and control; such a modulatory subjectivity constantly moves towards, but never transcends, the limits not only of what constitutes a society of control itself, but of what, in effect, constitutes subjectivity. In other words, resistance in a control society emerges at the site of the subject. The addict is a modulatory or ‘undulatory’ subjectivity that reshapes and reforms itself in a continuously shifting movement that can be seen in Burroughs’s shape shifters, in the oscillating perspectives and floating ‘authorial I’, in the decentralized network of control and junk itself. In Nova Express, for example, Inspector Lee, in detailing how arrests are made, explains that Nova criminals are not ‘three-dimensional organisms […] but they need threedimensional human agents to operate’ (NE 56). The point at which Nova criminals ‘intersect’ with human agents are known as ‘coordinate points’, sites that the criminals—the controllers—can occupy in a limitless series. Yet, the ‘one thing that carries over from one human host to another and establishes identity of the controller […] is habit’ (NE 56). The transitory, modulatory subjectivity of the controllers is still limited in some ways by its addiction to identity. This is also underscored in the narrative point of view of Nova Express, especially at those points where the narrative suddenly breaks away from Inspector Lee’s ‘I’ and shifts into the removed third-person narrative of the ‘nameless’ narrator referred to as ‘Bill’, ‘I&I’ and ‘Bill&Iam’. These are instances of breaking away, or at least attempting to break away, from the normative confines of junkidentity. As such, Burroughs points to the modulatory-addict as existing at the extremes of control society, constantly testing and interrogating the limits of what constitutes subjectivity. Where or how might resistance to power, ‘freedom’ in the form of subjectivity, emerge in a society of control? Is there a way to resist strategies of power? This problem relates back to Foucault’s proposition that power is productive. When Burroughs writes that the ‘illusion of a separate inviolable identity limits your perceptions and confines you in time’ (AM 133), he is not advocating a destruction of the ‘self’, a thought that he admitted was ‘terrifying’ (133); rather, he is proposing a configuration that prompts the shift, alteration, or production of one’s notion of self. When power is conceived as functioning not ‘on’ or ‘outside’ its subjects, and does not act on them ‘from above’ but through, within, and ‘from below’, this indicates that power is not ‘despotic’ or limiting, but quite the opposite—that it is productive. Seen in this way, the antithesis of power is limitation and totalization. This is why Deleuze implies that power, in the guise of politics, is a potentially creative, even experimental force (Deleuze and Parnet 1977:137). Power, then, is productive, and must encompass resistance: ‘in relations of power, there is necessarily the possibility of resistance, for if there were no possibility of resistance […] there would be no relations of power’ (Foucault 1984:12). And just as power creates its own resistance, a society of control will create its own perforations and undermine its own aspirations to totality. In his essay ‘The Limits of Control’, Burroughs distinguishes between control and use, and points to the stagnancy of total control as the ‘basic impasse’ of all ‘control machines’: [C]ontrol also needs opposition or acquiescence; otherwise it ceases to be control […] I control a slave, a dog, a worker; but if I establish complete control somehow, as by implanting electrodes in the brain, then my subject is little more than a tape recorder, a camera, a robot. You don’t control a tape recorder—you use it […] All control systems try to make control as tight as possible, but at the same time, if they succeeded completely, there would be nothing left to control. (AM 117) Similarly, in the essay ‘Mind War’, Burroughs surmises that a society of ‘world control’ would look like an ‘elitist World State very much along the lines laid down by the Nazis’, controlled by a ‘theocracy trained in psychic control techniques implemented by computerized electronic devices that would render opposition psychologically impossible’ (AM 151). If there were no ‘points of insubordination’ (Foucault 1983:225) or possibilities of dissent within relations of power, there would be, simply, ‘complete control’ (AM 117) in the form of enslavement, submission, and pure use. Just as a ‘society without power relations’ is only an ‘abstraction’ (Foucault 1983:222), the ‘relationship between power and freedom’s refusal to submit’ cannot be separated (221). Foucault maintained that it is a mode of action that defines a relationship of power, a mode of action that does not act on others, but on their actions—‘a set of actions upon other actions’ (Foucault 1983:220). Burroughs echoes this sentiment in writing that this ‘is a game planet’ and that although there cannot be a final victory because that would ‘mean the end of the war game’, all the players must ‘believe in final victory’ in order for the game to function (AM 155). Yet when we see the relationship of power, the ‘game’, as a series—or as an array—of actions upon the actions of others, one must include a crucial element: freedom (Foucault 1983:221). It is the alteration of the self that ‘produces a modification of one’s activity in relation to others, and hence a modification in power relations, even if only at the micro-level to begin with’ (O’Farrell 1989:129). Hence, freedom, for Foucault as well as for Burroughs, constitutes the delimitation of domination in order to make space for the freedom of human relations, which is the space of possibility for the creation of new forms of subjectivity. Burroughs’s modulatory subject is a subject that experiences itself not only formed within relations of power, but also as having power, capable of relaying and redeploying the strategies of power themselves. Burroughs’s fascination with control and his rendering of the subject-as-addict—the modulatory subject—shores up not so much a ‘transcendence’ of the limits of cultural norms or a ‘moving outside’ the limits of the self, but more an exploration of discursive limits. Transgression, as Foucault insists, is not related to limits in the same way that the prohibited is related to the lawful, or the outside to the inside, but it ‘takes the form of a spiral which no simple infraction can exhaust’ (Foucault 1963:35). It is crucial to understand that Burroughs’s work in no way represents a literal moving ‘beyond’ or standing ‘beside’ oneself, but an interrogation of the limits of the self that points to the possibility of sociopolitical transformation within a society of control. What we tend to see in Burroughs is a ‘creation of the self’, the representation of the experience of self-formation in the face of the social and political forces that are incessantly affecting us on a daily basis. Through the lens of Burroughs’s radicalized perspective, the formulation of a modular subjectivity is a generative force, and signals the possibility of promoting new forms of subjectivity, of bringing one to experience oneself as an agent with and constituted by power; he underscores the necessity of distinguishing alternative modes of liberation and resistance to dominant, normalizing systems of thought exercised in a society of control. Burroughs’s representations of control and his re-signification of the subject as a modulatory subject is a gesture toward empowerment, a shift towards perceiving how we can interrupt the flow between power and truth. This, he warns, is perhaps one of the only ways that we can create power relationships that can be viably developed and employed within a society of control. REFERENCESButler, J. (1997) The Psychic Life of Power: Theories in Subjection (Stanford: Stanford University Press). Deleuze, G. (1986) Foucault, Hand, S. trans. (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1988). — (1990) ‘Postscript on the Societies of Control’, October, 1992 No. 59, Winter, pp. 3–7. Deleuze, G., and Parnet, C. (1977) Dialogues, 2nd edition, Tomlison, H., and Habberjam, B. trans. (New York: Columbia University Press, 2002). Dreyfus, H., and Rabinow, P. (1983) Michel Foucault: Beyond Structuralism and Hermeneutics (Chicago: University of Chicago Press). Foucault, M. (1963) ‘Preface to Transgression’, IN Language, Counter-Memory, Practice (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1977). — (1969) The Archaeology of Knowledge, Smith, S. A. M. trans. [1972] (New York: Routledge, 2002). — (1975) Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison, Sheridan, A. trans. (New York: Vintage, 1979). — (1976) The History of Sexuality Volume I, Hurley, R. trans. (New York: Vintage Books, 1980). —(1977) ‘Prison Talk’, Gordon, C. trans., IN Foucault, M. 1980a, pp. 37–54. —(1978) ‘Governmentality’, IN Power: The Essential Works of Foucault, 1954–1984, Saubion, J. B. ed., Hurley, R. et al. trans. (New York: New Press, 2000), p. 219. —— (1980a) Power/Knowledge: Selected Interviews and Other Writings, 1972–77, Gordon, C. et al. trans. (New York: Pantheon). —(1980b) ‘Truth and Power’, Marshall, L., Mepham, J., and Soper, K. trans., IN Foucault 1980a, pp. 109–33. — (1983) ‘The Subject and Power’ (Afterword), IN Dreyfus and Rabinow 1983, pp. 208–28. —(1984) ‘The Ethic of Care for the Self as a Practice of Freedom: An interview with Michel Foucault, January 20, 1984’, conducted by Raul FornetBetancourt, Helmut Becker, and Alfredo Gomez-Müller. Gautier, J. D., and s. j. trans., IN Bernauer, J., and Rasmussen, D. (1987) The Final Foucault (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1988), pp. 1–20. —(2002) Society Must Be Defended: Lectures at the Collège de France 1975–1976, Macey, D. trans. (New York: Picador). First publication of collected lectures. Hardt, M. (1998) ‘The Withering of Civil Society’, IN Kaufman, E., and Heller, K. J. (1998) Deleuze and Guattari: New Mappings in Politics, Philosophy, and Culture (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press), pp. 23–9. Lenson, D. (1995) On Drugs (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press). Murphy, T. S. (1997) Wising Up the Marks: The Amodern William Burroughs (Berkeley: University of California Press). O’Farrell, C. (1989) Foucault: Historian or Philosopher? (New York: St Martin’s Press). Ronell, A. (1992) Crack Wars: Literature, Addiction, Mania (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press). Retaking the Universe (William S.Burroughs in the Age of Globalization) Part1: Theoretical Depositions/'Speculating Freedom': Addiction, Control and Rescriptive Subjectivity in the Work of William S. Burroughs /Edited by Davis Schneiderman and Philip Walsh First published 2004 by Pluto Press 345 Archway Road, London N6 5AA 22883 Quicksilver Drive, Sterling, VA 20166–2012, USA www.plutobooks.com
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