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That rich life: Four Themes. 1) life is firmly other than personality. Deleuze is right about that. It is the point a personality is stripped out. A et striving point, whose only real definition is a struggle with death. A point that reaches into us all and catches us up. The feeling of pity that turn murders into martyrs and dictators into victims. The point that makes a single pre-mediated murder by the state ore traumatic or at least more present than all the murders the same state routinely practises in the idiocy of war. We are all caught up I such impersonal deaths as we are all caught up in the life of Riderhood. He is there no longer, all hat is there is life itself. 2) How we then react to the impose the a-subjective life before us is however a product of where or what we are. We look at this a Inchoate state with hope. Here in this life is after all the mother of all hope. `The ability of life home what may apparently to rebuild itself. This is where a hope might be or what it is. I is our hoping thought. And yet how do we build that impersonal hope into our lives? A Impersonal which is made all the more problematic y what is not their. That is by what it does not say about who or what the person is and why. We have this hope and that is that. We are this hope and this that. How then one builds that traitor into the mind, whether as a regret that after this the only path id down or a belief in possible redemption or a hope that this is the redemption or a forgetting of what another is alike or whoever, the hope is everywhere demanding to be manifest. One therefore always gives birth to life in ones own mind –one feels its reality in a pointless and yet productive hope. 3) To see life is to suspend everything. The debate about immanent and transcendental and ways each ,might be opened onto the other becomes therefore moribund. Life is always utterly betwixt and between – is nowhere and yet everywhere. It is after personality has stopped and before death starts assuredly. But is also beyond the debate about what lies out and inside side. Life is neither and both. It is the diagonal line that cross the immanent and the transcendental that hooks them into on another and demands the do reality to each other. It forces them therefore never to be simply as there, never to be the only thing that matters. To be a life is therefore to at once be carrying a life forward into scintillating thoughts. To be alive is therefore to re-fracture what one is and force oneself into the otherwise. But at the same time to be as a life is what is never simply there, what is always demanding to move elsewhere to move on to move sideways. Lie is at once there and not their carrying over a truth to something that cannot be shared into the world, and yet something we are all caught by and with or though. The point we are entrapped in understanding each otter just as we loose sight of our ability to understand exactly what we are or what any one is in terms of what is directly manifest in the world. Life transcends into personality 9eventually0, and dwells into affects (eventually). But stripped down it is neither. It is what is their, what demands we house it. What gives us a truth beyond ourselves. 4) However what is that life as such? A husk or scrap of matter in the winds of the world it animates. Life is peculiar in that it hides within it the consubstantiation of the world and yet does it as a part in that world. All is in me but only as I am thrown gazette ways of the world – throw against the steamers in the fog and thrown up against a chance. To be alive is therefore to be within the odd paradox of containing and containment. All in me 9asnd I am what transcends) me in all an am caught n very thing else, and forced to indwell in it. The world also transcends a me or any bloc off life (which can even as it claims its own never be said to claim eh right to be),and the immanent moves within the individual and binds them to others by sound, smell and affect. What I am is therefore at once sovereign and yet permeable caught in everything and yet defiant. Life is the name for this paradox that haunts us all.