The Neighbor (n.) appears when someone close suddenly makes a cruel remark or casts a cold glance, and we realize a total stranger stands before us.
The Neighbor (n.) becomes invisible to the human community once revealed in his inhuman abyss: it copes with his over-proximity by ignoring him.
A Neighbor (n.) is a harmless creature you hardly notice — until it gets into your ears, hatches, and flourishes devastatingly in your brain.
Neighbor (n.) appears when a close friend suddenly makes an obscene gesture or casts a cold glance where compassion was expected, and a total stranger stands before us.
The Neighbor (n.) is monstrous. He is the (evil) thing which potentially lurks beneath every homely human face.
The Neighbor (n.) is he beneath whom lurks the unfathomable abyss of radical otherness, of a monstrous thing that cannot be domesticated.
The Neighbor (n.) at its most radical is the one you are commanded to love as a de-subjectivized monstrous dark blot with only a slit for the gaze.
Neighbor (n.) is made a neighbour by the proximity of jouissance: the Other becomes suffocating when we experience his mode of enjoyment as too intrusive.
The Neighbor (n.) is an enigma even to himself: Lacan's 'Che vuoi?' asks less 'what do you want?' than 'what's bugging you, what makes you so unbearable, to us and to yourself?'
Neighbor (n.) is what is ultimately toxic — the abyss of the other's desire and obscene enjoyment; all rules of politeness aim to quarantine it and reduce the Neighbor to a fellow man.
A Neighbor (n.) is an inert, impenetrable presence that hystericizes me — "love your neighbor" hides the abyss of radical Otherness lurking beneath the one who is like me.
Neighbor (n.) is the fellow man the moment he utters an unexpectedly cruel remark or casts a cold glance where compassion was expected — and you realize a total stranger is standing in front of you.
The Neighbor (n.) is not some mirror for one, offering self-realization through the other. Rather, the neighbor is an impenetrable, enigmatic presence that hystericizes me.
The Neighbor (n.) in Christianity is not the impenetrable Other of Levinas: God's Otherness is reduced to sameness — He is one of us — and the neighbor is a member of our collective.
A Neighbor (n.) is the Thing — the (Evil) Thing that potentially lurks beneath every homely human face; Levinas's ethical domestication of the neighbor hides this monstrosity.
The Neighbor (n.) in the Real of her presence is the cruel voice Schumann heard in a dream: he cried with all his soul 'Clara, I'm calling you!', and a voice right beside him answered 'But Robert, I am near you!' — Love thy neighbour? No, thanks!