Though I've been tracking temporailty for a whole semester now, I don't know that I have a comprehensive knowledge of temporality theory, or theory that is concerned with time. Is that my own fault? Have I personally failed to understand or work through and alongside temporality? I don't think so. My experience in tracking this term, though far different from my experience with tracking terms in the past, has certainly been informing my experiences with queer theory and queering desire. The avenues through which I chose to approach the term could have been more direct, but I tend to think of and engage with various texts beside one another, which is why tracking terms through vastly differing, perhaps even contradictory, texts has been so beneficial.
I divided my three annotated bibliographies into three categories/themes: images, bodies, and failures -- which was pretty contrived, but my intention was to think through and alongside temporality not according to various theoretical approaches, but according to three indirectly connected problems of time -- problems that theory must, and has, inevitably, encountered and struggled with.
The question that presents itself to me now is, how can I (or we) understand temporality beside or through queering desire? I've been thinking of this question in terms of what they each do (and undo) when positioned beside one another: we've read and discussed a few pertinent texts in this class that point to a number of ways we can understand this relationship, namely, Lee Edelman's No Future, Muñoz's Cruising Utopia, and I would suggest even Kincaid and Stockton as staging problems in theorizing temporality alongside queerness and desire. Although I have certainly not exhausted my queering of temporality, I would suggest at this moment in my relationship to queer temporalities that queer temporality not only problematizes linear conceptions and applications of time, but undoes and rewrites inscriptions of life time -- such as "reproductive futurity" -- that serve to demarcate what it means for a life to have value, for a life to be livable.
Confession: I love Twitter. I've blogged before, but until this semester I had never tweeted, and I definitely see its appeal. Both the blog cluster and diablog assignments really allowed me to see twitter's productive potential -- for the former, I tweeted as I read through the various blogs and it helped me catalog my readings of the cluster, which was helpful in keeping track of where I was reading and where I had followed a link and so forth. My diablog tweeting with Remy was a really great way for me to think through the reading and begin an initial conversation from which to organize my thoughts and our presentation. In general, though, Tweeting was also a really easy and casual way to share information and links with classmates or pose questions about the readings, etc., and to engage with what other people shared. I also follow a lot of newspaper/art forum/cinema publications as well as various celebrity figures, and I find Twitter to be a very convenient way to access information.
From what I've observed from many of our tweets, blog posts, and blogging dialogues, our class as a whole has been productively engaged in various queering practices, not least of which is the queering of academic engagement -- for instance, this (accidental?) conversation about Ahmed (did you guys plan this?):
In academic settings, we, as classmates, do not utilize one another as resources nearly as often as we should, which is one reason why teaching and learning with blogs has proved itself rather subversive. I was definitely most engaged in the class and the theory at hand when I had also been actively engaged on twitter and on the blog -- and I felt most affected by the readings when I was paying attention to others' dialogue blogs and live tweets. If I were to give any advice to future blogging students, I would suggest to really experiment with how the blog allows us to engage theory with and beside one another.