Definitions HQ

Identity (n.) is ⁠​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​⁠a regulatory fiction: a culturally restricted principle of order and hierarchy.

Identity (n.) is ⁠​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​⁠something to defend, but the deeper aim is to stand in the world not as an identity but as a creative force.

Identity (n.) was ⁠​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​⁠built indirectly by excluding others — the criminal, the madman — and directly by ethical techniques of the self handed down from Antiquity.

Identity (n.) insisted ⁠​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​⁠upon and the order to make a clean break feel like impositions — and in exactly the same way.

Identity (n.) is ⁠​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​⁠a form of subjugation and a way of exercising power over people and preventing them from moving outside fixed boundaries.

Identity (n.) cannot ⁠​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​⁠be lodged in the body, nor even in the breath: with every breath we give up a little of ourselves and take in other air.

Identity (n.) of ⁠​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​⁠things, for the Renaissance, was kept by hatred: sympathy draws everything together and antipathy keeps each thing murderously itself.

Identity (n.) came ⁠​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​⁠to be defined by trajectories for a generation of the Left: rare was the person who could say without hesitation, 'This is what I wanted.'

Identity (n.) is ⁠​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​⁠not always already there, but is the result of greater clinical attention to different forms of sexual 'perversion'. Scrutiny not only discovers new forms, but also produces and multiplies them.

Identity (n.) is ⁠​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​⁠now something to refuse rather than discover: the task is to imagine what we could be, to escape modern power's double bind of individualizing and totalizing at once.

Identity (n.) is ⁠​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​⁠something power hands you: it categorizes you, marks you with your own individuality, and imposes a truth about yourself that you and others must recognize.

Identity (n.) we ⁠​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​⁠now expect from what was long perceived as an obscure and nameless urge — as we expect intelligibility from what was thought madness, and our body's plenitude from what was likened to a wound.

Identity (n.) is ⁠​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​⁠useful as a game, but once people make it the law of their existence — asking always "does this conform to my identity?" — they slide back into an ethics close to old heterosexual virility.

Identity (n.) is ⁠​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​⁠a matter for papers: do not ask who I am or ask me to stay the same — leave it to our bureaucrats and police to see that our papers are in order.

Identity (n.) from ⁠​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​⁠the seventeenth century on is defined by the differences that remain: an animal or plant is not what the stigma on it betrays — it is what the others are not.