The whatever being coming forth is not defined by its similarities or differences but by its singularities and indifferences to shared properties. The whatever being can be an all-inclusive term, meaning it all matters equally and all classification aren’t necessary. Without classifications and labels the whatever being only belongs to itself and consequently is free to be. An example from The Coming Community that describes common properties of belonging is “ color, nationality, religion” these common properties limit and define. “Thus being-such, which remains constantly hidden in the condition of belonging” (Agamben p.2).
The association of real predicate and love are different qualities that exist but shouldn’t limit the amount of love or control things that are loveable. Predicates aren’t the basis for love. In ethics not belonging to a common property doesn’t subject humans to beings to nothingness nor does it assign task for human experience. In order to have an ethical experience the options and choices has to be made based upon freewill or thinking, the philosophy of potentially and impotentially.
The actions of ethics based on potentially and impotentially are moral judgments devoid of belonging to one group or another but based on whatever being singularities. “Whatever singularity, which wants to appropriate belong-ing itself, its own being-in language, and thus rejects all identity and every condition of belonging, is the principal enemy of the State” (Agamben p.7). I interpreted the Tiananmen to mean and describe the lack of classifications of groups based on ethnicity, orientation, age, gender, social status, and etc. The inclusion of whatever singularities in a civil struggle for human rights on the behalf of all humans beings.
“What can I do with my happiness? How can I keep it, conceal it, bury it where I may never lose it? I want to kneel as it falls over me like rain, gather it up with lace and silk, and press it over myself again.”—Anaïs Nin
n. a feeling of resonant connection with an author or artist you’ll never meet, who may have lived centuries ago and thousands of miles away but can still get inside your head and leave behind morsels of their experience, like the little piles of stones left by hikers that mark a hidden path through unfamiliar territory.
“All our progress is an unfolding, like a vegetable bud. You have first an instinct, then an opinion, then a knowledge as the plant has root, bud, and fruit. Trust the instinct to the end, though you can render no reason.”—Ralph Waldo Emerson (via mayraq)