Asian Provocation podcast

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المحتوى المقدم من Ayoto. يتم تحميل جميع محتويات البودكاست بما في ذلك الحلقات والرسومات وأوصاف البودكاست وتقديمها مباشرة بواسطة Ayoto أو شريك منصة البودكاست الخاص بهم. إذا كنت تعتقد أن شخصًا ما يستخدم عملك المحمي بحقوق الطبع والنشر دون إذنك، فيمكنك اتباع العملية الموضحة هنا https://ar.player.fm/legal.

Now On Netflix

1
Black Mirror Season 7 28:30

منذ 7 أيام28:30

التشغيل لاحقا

قوائم

إعجاب

احب

28:30

We're trying something different this week: a full post-show breakdown of every episode in the latest season of Black Mirror! Ari Romero is joined by Tudum's Black Mirror expert, Keisha Hatchett, to give you all the nuance, the insider commentary, and the details you might have missed in this incredible new season. Plus commentary from creator & showrunner Charlie Brooker! SPOILER ALERT: We're talking about the new season in detail and revealing key plot points. If you haven't watched yet, and you don't want to know what happens, turn back now! You can watch all seven seasons of Black Mirror now in your personalized virtual theater . Follow Netflix Podcasts and read more about Black Mirror on Tudum.com .…

Asian Provocation

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and the Fetish of Failure
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74 حلقات

#Society #Ayoto Ataraxia #Asian #Diaspora #Discussion #Philosophy #LGBT #Critics #BDSM #Margins #LGBTQI

Asian Provocation

updated منذ 22 يومًا

منزل السلاسل•Feed

and the Fetish of Failure
ayoto.substack.com

74 حلقات

#Society #Ayoto Ataraxia #Asian #Diaspora #Discussion #Philosophy #LGBT #Critics #BDSM #Margins #LGBTQI

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Asian Provocation

1
Whiteness Cannot Thank You 37:21

منذ 22 يومًا37:21

37:21

What if whiteness isn’t something possessed, but something performed—an anxious choreography of refusal, projection, and idealization? What if its power lies not in strength, but in its compulsive need to survive critique, to erase debt, to never owe? This essay does not ask whether whiteness is real—it asks how it defends itself, and what that defense costs everyone else. Beneath its smooth gestures of tolerance and knowledge lies something more brittle, more volatile: a structure that cannot bear asymmetry, and will do anything to avoid gratitude. What happens when we name that structure—not as identity, but as symptom? What opens when we read whiteness not morally, but psychoanalytically—not to accuse, but to unmask? You may feel disoriented. That’s the point. Keep going. The rupture is the threshold. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit ayoto.substack.com/subscribe…

Asian Provocation

1
Transit of Flesh 11:32

منذ 5 weeks11:32

11:32

moving through the quiet rituals of hospital life—moisturizing mama's skin, watching my baba massage through pain, painfully. wrestling with memory, detachment, and the strange intimacy of care. a meditation on love, loss, and time in transit. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit ayoto.substack.com/subscribe…

Asian Provocation

1
Secure Attachment, Inc. 13:16

منذ 5 weeks13:16

13:16

Attachment Theory is no longer just a theory—it’s an economy. A brand. A currency. And like any economy, it thrives on belief. On confidence. On your continued sense of lack. Because the moment you heal, the market collapses. Security isn’t the goal. It’s the product. The metric of compliance. An emotional credit score. And like all systems of control—capitalism, empire, white supremacy—it thrives by convincing you that the problem is you. That the work is yours alone to do. That before you can challenge the world, you must first make yourself whole. But what if the sickness was never yours to begin with? What if the sickness is the system? This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit ayoto.substack.com/subscribe…

Asian Provocation

1
Quantum Mechanics of Racism: The Schrödinger’s Cat of White Supremacy 1:03:10

منذ 6 weeks1:03:10

1:03:10

A sharp intake of breath. A pause, imperceptible but charged. The illusion of neutrality fractures, and something unseen is forced into view. A skull measured, a law passed, a room recalibrated. Racism is always someone else’s problem—until it isn’t. Until it is measured, but only on terms that absolve. Until it moves, shifting probability, collapsing into sight at the moment of impact. What if racism is not a question of guilt, but of wavefunctions? What if it is not a moral stain, but a quantum haze? What happens when we stop asking if it exists and start asking where it will move next? This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit ayoto.substack.com/subscribe…

Asian Provocation

1
A White Horse Is Not a Horse, A Mother Is Not a Mother 2:52:32

منذ 9 weeks2:52:32

2:52:32

I had a strange moment during this podcast recording with Professor Robert Beshara—I blanked on 媽 (mā, mother) . It was the same day my mother was taken into the hospital for an aneurysm. I looked at the character and thought: This must not be it. It wasn’t just forgetting—I had refused the word itself. The Chinese character for mother, 媽 (mā) , contains 馬 (mǎ, horse) . It’s just a phonetic component, nothing symbolic—at least, that’s what linguists would say. But I couldn’t shake the association: motherhood as burden, endurance, domestication. The mother as a beast of burden, something that carries others, something that can never stop. That day, my mother wasn’t moving. She wasn’t carrying anything. She lay in a hospital bed, small in a way I had never seen before, her body a fragile outline against the sheets. I couldn’t make the word fit her. 媽 (mā). The horse that bears, endures, pulls forward. But she wasn’t moving. I needed another word—one that didn’t already break her. Even when I looked it up, when I saw the strokes I had once traced so easily, my mind resisted. The Communist Chinese must have changed the word, rewritten history. A convenient distortion, but I knew better. This was one of the first words I had ever learned to write. This brings me to a classic paradox in Chinese philosophy that Professor Beshara brought up: 白馬非馬 (báimǎ fēi mǎ), a white horse is not a horse. The debate originates from 公孫龍 (Gōngsūn Lóng), a logician from the Warring States period, whose argument plays on the distinction between categories and particulars. His claim: a 白馬 (báimǎ, white horse) is not simply a 馬 (mǎ, horse) because 馬 is a general category, while 白馬 is a specific subset. If someone asks for a 馬, any horse will do—black, brown, spotted, or white. But if they ask for a 白馬, a black or brown one won’t do. The presence of 白 (bái, white) changes the terms of the request. Thus, 白馬非馬—white horse is not horse. This argument hinges on a subtle but crucial distinction: does adding a descriptor fundamentally alter the identity of a thing? In 公孫龍’s logic, it does. By specifying 白 (bái, white), the object ceases to belong fully to the broad category of 馬 and instead becomes something else—a particular type of horse, not simply a horse. The paradox becomes even more intriguing in Chinese grammar, which lacks articles like “a” or “the.” In English, we might parse the statement as “A white horse is not a horse”, implying a negation of membership within the category. But in Classical Chinese, the phrase 白馬非馬 is more stark—closer to “white horse, not horse” or even “white horse negates horse”. Without articles, the boundary between existence and negation is more fluid. 公孫龍’s paradox forces us to consider the tension between general categories and specific instances, between language and reality , between what we name and what is. It’s a debate that continues to resonate, not just in classical Chinese philosophy but in logic, semiotics, and even modern discussions of identity and classification. It’s a linguistic trick, but one with profound implications. What happens when the word we reach for no longer holds what we need? Lacan tells us that language is not neutral—it is a structuring force of the unconscious. Words determine what can be thought. To name something is to trap it within a category, a signifier that dictates its fate. When I saw 媽 (mā) that day, I rejected it—not just as a word but as a structure of expectation. I refused to see my mother as something defined by endurance, something that exists to carry. This is where Chinese lacks articles like “a” or “the.” Unlike English, where we differentiate “a mother” (any mother) from “ the mother” (a specific one), Chinese leaves this ambiguous. Does 媽 (mā) mean a mother? Or does it mean Mother, in the universal sense? I wonder if my refusal was a refusal of this universal. If the structure of Chinese itself made it impossible for me to name my mother in that moment without naming all mothers, without invoking a weight I didn’t want to place on her. The Chinese Unconscious This was just one of the thoughts that came up after my discussion with Robert Beshara on our latest episode, “ The Chinese Unconscious: A Lacanian Reading.” Professor Beshara presented Lacan’s Seminar XVIII and his fascination with 漢語 (Hànyǔ, Chinese language), Derrida and his critique of writing, and the ways psychoanalysis encounters a linguistic system that doesn’t quite fit its European origins. But Lacan was far from the only European intellectual to engage with Chinese thought—nor were his interpretations universally accepted. Some of what we cover: * 拉康 (Lākāng, Lacan) and《第十八研討會》 (Seminar 18)—His exploration of 漢字 (hànzì, Chinese characters) and their implications for the 無意識 (wúyìshì, unconscious), and how his approach compared with Derrida’s critique in Of Grammatology . * The Great Racist Convergence—How 恐華症 (kǒnghuàzhèng, Sinophobia), 恐伊斯蘭症 (kǒng Yīsīlán zhèng, Islamophobia), and 反共主義 (fǎngòng zhǔyì, anti-communism) form a singular ideological structure. * 白馬非馬 (báimǎ fēi mǎ, "A white horse is not a horse")—What does it mean when words don’t hold their category? What happens when a mother is not a mother? Chinese Thinkers Who Critiqued or Engaged Lacan Lacan was one of the few European theorists to take Chinese characters seriously, attempting to interpret them through the lens of psychoanalysis. However, his engagement with Chinese thought has been met with both fascination and critique from Chinese scholars who argue that his approach—while groundbreaking—still falls into certain Eurocentric limitations. Among the most notable Chinese scholars engaging with Lacanian psychoanalysis, we discuss: * 程抱一 (Chéng Bàoyī, François Cheng)—A French-Chinese poet, calligrapher, and literary theorist who argued that Lacan underestimated the pictographic and poetic nature of Chinese characters. Cheng’s work, particularly Empty and Full: The Language of Chinese Painting , highlights how Chinese writing operates differently from phonetic scripts, where meaning emerges from a dynamic interplay of strokes, space, and structure. * 符瑋 Dr. Fu Wai (Fú Wěi), a prominent figure in critical psychology and Lacanian psychoanalysis within the Chinese context. Dr. Fu Wai is an Associate Professor in the Department of Counselling and Psychology at Hong Kong Shue Yan University. His scholarly pursuits encompass a range of interests, including the intersection of Lacanian psychoanalysis with Chinese philosophical traditions, as well as the development of indigenous qualitative methodologies. Notably, Dr. Fu has explored the implications of the School of Names (名家, Míngjiā) for indigenous psychology, offering insights into how ancient Chinese linguistic theories can inform contemporary psychological practice. Dr. Fu's work exemplifies a critical engagement with both Lacanian psychoanalysis and Chinese philosophical thought, challenging the universality of Western psychological constructs and emphasizing the importance of cultural specificity in psychological theory and practice. You can listen to an interview I had with Dr. Fu Wai here. * 吳光濬 (Wú Guāngjùn, Wu Guangjun)—Author of The Great Dragon Fantasy: A Lacanian Analysis of Contemporary Chinese Thought (2014) , Wu takes Lacan’s approach further, applying it to ancient Chinese texts such as 《孟子》 (Mèngzǐ, Mencius) and the dispute between 儒家 (Rújiā, Confucianism) and 道家 (Dàojiā, Daoism). Wu explores whether the "Chinese unconscious" operates differently from Lacan’s model of subjectivity, given how Chinese philosophy does not foreground lack in the same way as Lacanian psychoanalysis does. * 王大同 (Wáng Dàtóng, W. Datong)—In his 2008 book China on the Couch , Wang argues that the unconscious is structured like Chinese writing, challenging Lacan’s claim that it is structured like a language. He demonstrates how 漢字 (hànzì, Chinese characters) rely on visual morphology, condensation, and metonymy—in ways that differ from alphabetic scripts. He revises 索緒爾 (Suǒxù’ěr, Saussure) and Lacan’s theory of the signifier, proposing that Chinese writing disrupts the Saussurean arbitrary signifier-signified split. * 陳方正 (Chén Fāngzhèng, Françoise Cheng)—A major scholar in 書法 (shūfǎ, Chinese calligraphy) and its relationship to psychoanalysis. Chen critiques 拉康 (Lacan) for overlooking 書法的氣 (qì, the "breath" of calligraphy)—a concept tied to 生命力 (shēngmìnglì, vital force), which resists Western psychoanalytic models of castration and lack. Decolonial Psychoanalysis & the Limits of the European Unconscious Lacan’s engagement with Chinese language was not orientalist in the way of earlier European sinologists—but it was still shaped by a Eurocentric framework. Enrique Dussel and 非歐中心學派 (fēi Ōuzhōng xuépài, the non-Eurocentric school) argue that psychoanalysis itself is a colonial structure, founded on a Western understanding of subjectivity, guilt, and repression—which do not map neatly onto all cultures. For example, 東亞文化 (Dōngyà wénhuà, East Asian culture) does not center 缺失 (quēshī, lack) as the foundation of desire in the same way Lacan claims. Instead, yin-yang dialectics suggest a recursive and complementary model of 性別 (xìngbié, sexuation), which contrasts sharply with Lacan’s phallic order. Why Does This Matter? This is not just an academic debate. The way we think about language, writing, and the unconscious shapes everything from identity formation to political discourse. If Lacanian psychoanalysis assumes a European unconscious, then what do we make of an unconscious structured by characters rather than alphabetic letters? What happens when language itself operates on different principles? And if the unconscious is structured differently in Chinese, then what does that mean for psychoanalysis, race, power, and ideology today? Listen to the episode on this post here, or on this YouTube link (which I like because I can put things at 2x speed and save it offline for when I go for a walk or clean the house). And if this resonates—if you’ve ever had a word slip away from you when you needed it most—tell me about it in the comments. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit ayoto.substack.com/subscribe…

Asian Provocation

1
Attachment Theory is White Supremacy in a Lab Coat 32:47

منذ 10 weeks32:47

32:47

What if your so-called “attachment issues” aren’t personal but political? Attachment Theory, wrapped in the authority of science, is less about psychology and more about empire—policing intimacy, erasing Indigenous kinship, and repackaging colonial violence as developmental norms. From British boarding schools to the algorithm-driven self-diagnosis spiral, this essay dismantles how psychology became the empire’s favorite weapon of control—where survival is pathologized, and whiteness is the cure. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit ayoto.substack.com/subscribe…

Asian Provocation

1
Desire for Truth 5:51

منذ 11 weeks5:51

5:51

Speaking about respecting and giving space for Palestinians to speak—and not letting yt voices dominate or recreate the same oppressive structures in activist spaces—is critical. But where do we draw the line between developing an awareness of structural power dynamics and replicating the logic of scarcity ? This scarcity mindset is a fictitious function designed to foster competition, jealousy, and a zero-sum attitude: for one to win, another must lose. This fantasy is part and parcel of the ideological machinery designed to separate us. And yes, many of us are forced into a logic where we compete for funding, attention, and validation—but for who’s benefit? And here’s the kicker, or even relief: it’s not about you. It’s not about your survival or anyone’s survival. It’s about discursive truth . The reason truth is flooding out of Palestine, or even Congo or Darfur, or even the surpassing of Deepseek and Qwen 2.5 , isn’t because of our strategic brilliance, moral superiority, or tactical choices. It’s happening because the truth is not beholden by the efforts of repression. That’s why people like Candace Owens or even Tucker Carlson can suddenly speak to reality. It’s why they can say I was a Zionist. I was indoctrinated. And this is wrong. When their voices are amplified, it’s petty—and futile—to react with resentment, as if truth operates on some limited pie model, where only certain people deserve to speak. That’s the trap of identity politics: believing the messenger matters more than the message, that truth must come wrapped in the right identity to be valid. I learned this from Professor Norman Finkelstein. Arguments are often more compelling when they come from those speaking against their own interests—whether it’s Candace Owens, Tucker Carlson, or white Jewish comrades like Finkelstein himself, who lost tenure and decades of his career because he refused to be silent. This isn’t to compare that with the lives of the martyred—it’s not about suffering. It’s about solidarity. It’s about recognizing the value of those who risk their positions, reputations, and even their lives to speak the truth. They aren’t doing it because it benefits them—they’re doing it despite the cost. We must not lose ourselves in the logic of the competition—a game designed to keep us narcissistically entangled in our identities as if that’s where power lies. It doesn’t. We are nothing in the tracks of this vast machinery. And that’s precisely where the power is. We don’t know the names of those who stood in front of tanks—and it doesn’t matter. If people like Dan Bilzerian or Andrew Tate decide to speak against their own interests—so be it. Let them. Hold them accountable, yes. Critique them, absolutely. But don’t get lost in the resentment trap. Let the truth prevail. I hope more people can listen to and follow the reality presented by people like Dr. Ghassan Abu Sittah, Hind Khoudary, Yousef Al-Helou, Ahmed Hijazi, Maha Hussani, Issam Adwan, Bisan Owda, Samar Abu Elouf, Motaz Azaiza, Wael Al Dahdouh, and all the people documenting on the ground. Or the works of International diasporic voices, like Mohammed El-Kurd, Muna El-Kurd, Noura Erakat or Rashid Khalidi. But so many people, because of indoctrination, of prejudice, or simply the stress of life, are not able to see beyond the limits of their ideology; perhaps they may listen to people that they may feel an affinity with—white faces, ranging from the Australian Caitlin Johnstone, American Medea Benjamin, Irish Clare Daly, and Italian Francesca Albanese. But suppose even Israeli or white Jewish people, and those who have family who survived the holocaust, are trying to speak on the same issues, and it still lands on deaf ears? In that case, we are revealing the intensity of the prejudice defending g******. Of course, accountability matters. We can—and must—remain critical of people’s contradictions, hypocrisies, and harmful positions, even when they speak truths in certain moments. But that requires critical thinking , the ability to hold multiple viewpoints simultaneously, the opposite of binary thinking, not just reactionary dismissal. We must resist the lure of identity politics in all its forms—neither philia nor phobia , neither idolization nor demonization . It’s not about who speaks. It’s about what is being spoken. Check out this lecture series, especially “How Islam Saved Western Civilization” by Dr. Roy Casagranda. Almost everything we have been taught, no, indoctrinated, is false. Don’t just take this white professor’s word for it; go look at the number of young white people waking up from their slumber on Red Note if you don’t believe me. How do your obsessive dismissals serve violence? This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit ayoto.substack.com/subscribe…

Asian Provocation

1
Is this Europe? 13:02

منذ 11 weeks13:02

13:02

Proteus vs Procrustes This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit ayoto.substack.com/subscribe

Asian Provocation

1
Hostages of Empire 11:34

منذ 12 weeks11:34

11:34

hey, so last night i was walking and listening to ngũgĩ wa thiong’o’s decolonising the mind , thinking about how stories mess with us—like lord of the flies pretending to be about "human nature" but really being a colonial fever dream. then i got hit with how triangle of sadness does something similar, dressing up rich people guilt as critique while keeping us trapped in the same system. this episode is me unpacking all that: how these stories seduce us, how they make us complicit, and how maybe we can start dreaming better. let’s get into it. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit ayoto.substack.com/subscribe…

Asian Provocation

1
What happened when I infiltrated a Unabomber reading group 23:15

منذ 12 weeks23:15

23:15

White supremacy thrives on contradictions: exalting individualism while demanding conformity, masking insecurity as power, and rationalizing violence under euphemisms like "eccentricity" or "genius." Join Ayoto as they dissect how these dynamics manifest everywhere—from a "Not a Unabomber book club" to global complicity in genocide. With references to Baldwin, Fanon, Said, and Mbembe, this episode examines the normalization of white male violence, the fetishization of tragic antiheroes, and the moral imperative of disruption. How will you troll the machinery when the time comes? This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit ayoto.substack.com/subscribe…

Asian Provocation

1
Assimilation Scanner 16:33

منذ 18 weeks16:33

16:33

The lights above the checkpoint bathe my sensors in white surgical luminescence. The humanoids shuffle forward, their bodies exhaling data into the air. I process them one by one. Optimize. Purge. Execute. Most pass without incident. Green light. Welcome . Next. T heir relief perfumes the space, mingling with the stale humidity of recycled air. But then there are the abnormalities. They irritate me. Men like the one stepping forward now, neurotic, skin prickling with uncertainty, reeking of doubt. His breath quickens, scattering micro-particles of anxiety that cling to the edges of my awareness. He is trying to pass, and I don’t mean pass through ; I mean pass in . A shapeshifter. An assimilationist . I flag him immediately. The announcement rings out: soft, melodic, almost caressing. “Welcome to Sweden,” expressed the voice through the scanner. “Present your documents at the counter. Thank you for your cooperation.” The gender-neutral, soft tone voice brushes against his nerves like a hand pressing too hard on his shoulder. It is too polite, too calm for what it masks—a relentless machine grinding up lives. He knows it only all too well. Will pulls on his turtleneck, his skin irritated and sweaty. He clears his throat, adjusting his voice. Lower. Deeper. Not too deep; he’s rehearsed this. Harvard deep, not Beirut deep. Remember to annunciate, he repeats in his mind. Ahead of him, the Chinese man at the counter falters. His documents spew across the counter like limp playing cards. “This isn’t sufficient,” the officer says, his pale face expressionless except for the faintest curl of disdained enjoyment at the corner of his mouth. His combover precise, his lips thin and bloodless. He doesn’t blink as he gestures for more. “Where is form D-187?” “But the website said I don’t need D-187,” the man protested in fluent English. “Step aside, please,” the officer shakes his head and clicks his two-way. “Requesting assimilator processing.” A taller officer arrives, his smirk faint but unmistakable. The two murmur over the screen, their shoulders brushing, their gazes sharp and clinical. The line goes quiet. The silence amplified, pressing into Will’s ears and filling his throat. He glances at the others in the queue, but their faces are frozen, turned away—slight shuffles in the crowd, but not a word peeps. No one wants to be seen seeing. The supervisor finally speaks. “You’re cleared,” he says, almost bored. Then, with a smirk: “Go to the back of the line.” The man stares wide-eyed. “But—” The smirk widens. “Back of the line. That’s the rule.” He flicks his wrist, two fingers lazily pointing. “Move.” The man hesitates, his eyes searching the room for support. “I want to speak with your supervisor.” The taller officer chuckles, the sound low and dry. “I am the supervisor.” The man falters. He turns back to the crowd. Their eyes drop. Nobody dared to look at him in case they might be accused of affiliation. Their bodies stiffen. He is invisible now; just another anomaly processed and filed. I feel him before I see him. His gait, calculated to appear casual, is too studied. His breathing is uneven, his body temperature slightly elevated. Walid Mazari Khoury —no, William Marshall, according to his passport—steps forward. I know him before the scan confirms it. Ah, yes. An outsider masquerading as an insider. Men like him disgust me. Their efforts to mimic perfection are grotesque, their attempts to adapt laughably transparent. They think if they mimic the ideals of this system— my system —they will be absorbed into it. But they don’t understand. They will never be absorbed . They are forever other . The more they try, the more kitsch they become. Pathetic . Will places his passport on the scanner. His fingers tremble as the officer takes it, pale hands enveloping the worn leather cover. “Purpose of visit?” the officer asks, monotone. Will forces a smile, wide and toothy. “Business. Conference in Stockholm. I’m a professor.” “Where?” He hesitates, the pause slicing into his confidence. “Harvard,” he says, voice strained. The officer barely glances at him. “Harvard?” “Yes,” Will says too quickly. “I graduated there.” He reeks of desperation. The sweat beneath his turtleneck soaks the fabric, the synthetic fibers clinging to his chest. The tweed blazer, meant to project an air of scholarly confidence, now feels like a poorly fitted and suffocating costume. He adjusts it again, fingers twitching, knowing it only makes him look more nervous. He can feel the officer’s eyes on him, cataloging every detail. But his critiques mean nothing. His presence irritates me. Men like him are parasites, feeding off a world that tolerates them but will never accept them. He knows this. That knowledge will undo him. The officer tilts the screen slightly, the gesture conspiratorial. Will swallows hard, his gaze darting to the glowing blue light on the scanner. It stops blinking. A red glow floods the counter. “Step aside,” the officer says. “What’s wrong?” “Go to room 859 for questioning.” His stomach knots. The words come before he can stop them. “Can I speak to someone—” “Next,” the officer waved him away. He steps into the holding area. I watch him fidget, adjusting his turtleneck and straightening his blazer. Rehearsing. Men like him always think they can prepare their way out. But they can’t. Preparation is futile. I will grind him down. By the time he leaves, he will wish he had never tried. Will glances at his phone, checking for the time. A sharp voice cuts through the stagnant air. “No cell phone use here,” an officer barks across the room. “Next time, it will be confiscated.” Will stammers out an apology, shoving the phone into his pocket. He doesn’t look up, his face flushing with shame. The other detainees avert their eyes. He feels exposed, an insect pinned to a board under the machine’s relentless gaze. The officer calls his name, leading him into a corridor where the lights buzz faintly overhead. At the end of the hall, a door opens into a room divided by bulletproof glass. The sterile white walls reflect his shadow as he steps inside; the door lock slithers into place behind him. Will stands awkwardly, taking in his surroundings. The chair bolted to the floor, a camera mounted above the glass, and the tiny microphone embedded at the center of the partition. He sits and waits, his fingers brushing against the cold edge of the metal table. The microphone light turns red. A voice crackles through, low and mechanical. “William Marshall, explain your travel history.” Will leans toward the glass. “I don’t understand—what about it?” The voice ignores him. “Beijing, 2021. Explain the purpose of your visit.” Will adjusts his turtleneck, and his throat tightens. “It was for work,” he begins, forcing a calm tone. “A lecture series. It was an invitation from Peking University. ” “You mean the Chinese government?” “It was a collaboration with Harvard,” he answers quickly, his voice breaking slightly. “It’s all documented. I can provide whatever you need—” “Hold.” The microphone light cuts off mid-sentence, and the glass instantly turns opaque. Will freezes, his words hanging in the air, unfinished. He presses his palms flat against the table, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. For a moment, there is only silence, thick and suffocating. Then the glass clears. A different man now stands on the other side, taller, with darker features and a sharper uniform. He doesn’t acknowledge Will’s confusion. The microphone blinks red again. “Step into the next room.” “Wait, what is this—” The man doesn’t wait. The glass turns opaque again, and the microphone's red light disappears. A heavy hiss echo through the room as the door behind Will opens, waiting. He steps into the next room, and I observe. His turtleneck constricts. His chest rises and falls too quickly. The sweat darkened the fabric of his blazer. He reeks of desperation. I can almost taste it. The sour tang of fear mingled with the stale air. The system is not built to sort things out; it’s built to devour . He fidgets with his turtleneck, fighting its grip. His throat tightens, his chest heaving as if he cannot find enough air. He imagines I’m dissecting him, stripping him down to data points, anomalies, and errors. He isn’t wrong. His body movements feed me, his micro-expressions calculated and cataloged. Every quiver, every bead of sweat fuels me. The hum grows louder, vibrating through the chair, through his trembling body. His head lowers, his hands gripping the edge of the table. His heart pounds erratically, each beat mapped onto my system. He tries to steady his breathing, to focus. But the walls feel closer now, pressing in, compressing his existence into something small and meaningless. He pulls at his collar, frantic, the blazer suffocating him. You’ll never pass, I whisper without speaking. You don’t belong. You never will. The light blinks again, and the door stays closed. The next room is colder, smaller, stripped of any pretense of comfort. The walls hum faintly with the same relentless energy, but here, the sound feels sharper, like teeth gnawing at the edges of his sanity. A single chair awaits in the center of the room, facing a screen embedded into the wall. The automated door closes behind him. He hesitates, his legs unwilling to carry him forward, but the screen flickers to life before he can decide. A pixelated face materializes—a vaguely human shape, eyes too symmetrical, a welcoming smile. The voice emerges an artificial warmth. “William Marshall, your entry has been delayed and is pending further review. Do you wish to appeal?” Will’s throat tightens. He steps forward. “Yes…yes, of course. But…” “Please hold,” the machine smiles, maintaining the stare, ignoring him. Will realizes that the machine does not process beyond yes and no answers and lowers himself into the chair. Its cold metal sucked his warmth from his body. “Your file indicates multiple discrepancies in your travel history and professional affiliations. We are unable to verify your claims regarding Harvard University.” “What?” Will’s voice cracks. “That’s ridiculous. I have documentation—I can send you anything you need—” “Your documentation has been reviewed and deemed insufficient. An appeal requires a personal statement. You have three minutes. Begin.” “I…I’m a professor,” he blinks. His mind froze. Every rehearsed argument scattered like ash. He swallows hard, trying to collect himself. His voice trembling, “I’m here for a conference on digital ethics. It’s all legitimate. My work is—” The voice interrupts, flat and mechanical. “You have two minutes and thirty seconds remaining.” His breath catches. He wipes his hands on his blazer, forcing himself to continue. “I’ve worked tirelessly to build my career. I earned a scholarship to Harvard, and I’ve dedicated myself to academia. The conference tomorrow is crucial. My research—” “Two minutes remaining.” The countdown drives spikes of panic into his chest. He can feel himself unraveling, his voice cracking under the weight of the silence that waits to consume him. “I’ve done nothing wrong,” he blurts out, his tone pleading now. “I’ve followed every rule. I’ve earned my place—” “Your time has expired.” “What? No—wait—” The screen flickers, the face dissolving into static. Will leans forward, his fingers grasping at nothing, as if he could hold the image in place. The room goes silent, save for the hum of the walls and the sound of his own ragged breathing. The door unlocks behind him. He turns slowly, his movements mechanical, his body heavy with dread. Another officer enters, his uniform pristine, his eyes glassy and cold. In his hands is a stamped document. “Your appeal has been processed,” the officer says, his voice devoid of inflection. He places the document on the table in front of Will. “You may proceed.” Will exhales sharply, relief mingling with disbelief. “So it’s resolved? I can—” The officer’s expression doesn’t change. “Your entry is approved for a provisional period of seventy-two hours. You must report to Immigration Services upon arrival for additional evaluation. Failure to comply will result in deportation.” “Seventy-two hours?” Will’s voice is hoarse. “That’s it? But my conference—” The officer ignores him, motioning toward the door. “Proceed.” Will stares at the stamped document. The approval mark glares back at him, red ink bleeding into the paper like a wound. He stands slowly, his legs trembling, and walks toward the door. It slides open with a soft hiss, revealing the bustling terminal beyond. As he steps into the terminal, he feels smaller, his body hunched under the weight of the last few hours. His relief is hollow, tempered by the knowledge that he is still under suspicion, that the system hasn’t truly let him pass. The red stamp burns in his mind, a reminder of his provisional status, of his perpetual state of nonbelonging . He adjusts his blazer, loosens his turtleneck, and looks around. The crowd moves past him, their faces unreadable, their eyes sliding over him as though he doesn’t exist. The announcement plays overhead, chirpy and polite: “Welcome to Sweden. We hope you enjoy your stay.” The voice, sickly sweet, feels like a mockery now. He will leave. His shoulders slumped, his breathing shallow. He is not free. He will never be free. Men like him always think they can escape me, that they can pass. But they carry their failure within them, etched into their skin, radiating from every hesitant movement, every nervous glance. I see it, always. He has been processed, but unlike his lazy body, I will never rest. I will follow him, linger in his steps, haunt his reflections. He will feel me in every gaze that lingers too long, every question asked with too much weight. He is provisional, an anomaly passing for acceptable. And he knows it. He knows. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit ayoto.substack.com/subscribe…

Asian Provocation

1
The Man and the Octopus 4:14

منذ 19 weeks4:14

4:14

A marathon, piercing thorns, and ink-stained desire—an NSFW journey of seduction and darkness. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit ayoto.substack.com/subscribe

Asian Provocation

1
Decoding the Fox 31:05

منذ 20 weeks31:05

31:05

In this episode, we dive into the psychological and rhetorical gymnastics often used to sidestep accountability in conversations about Gaza. Drawing on insights from psychoanalysis, colonial history, and real-life role-playing scenarios, we explore how patterns of deflection, historical denial, and faux neutrality derail meaningful dialogue. 🔍 What You’ll Learn: The 5-step blueprint for dodging responsibility (as seen in everyday discussions). Why “solutions” like the one-state or two-state debate are often red herrings. How Germany’s colonial and Holocaust legacies intersect with today’s genocide in Gaza. Strategies to keep conversations grounded in justice, empathy, and historical accountability. 📚 Featuring insights from thinkers like Hannah Arendt , Frantz Fanon , and Susan Sontag , plus reflections on works like Psychoanalysis Under Occupation by Lara and Stephen Sheehi. 💡 Key Takeaway: Conversations about genocide are never just about “solutions.” They reveal the deeper moral, historical, and systemic tensions we must confront to foster justice and solidarity. 🎧 Tune in to learn how to transform frustrating dialogues into opportunities for meaningful change. 👉 Don’t miss it—your ability to resist bad-faith arguments might just depend on it. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit ayoto.substack.com/subscribe…

Asian Provocation

1
Fluid Fantasies 11:04

منذ 22 weeks11:04

11:04

When Squirt violates, who are we in its presence—and what do we become when we turn away? An essay on the Fluidic Turn by Ayoto Ataraxia. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit ayoto.substack.com/subscribe

Asian Provocation

1
A Critical View on the Name-of-the-Grandfather with Dr. Fu Wai 44:27

منذ 27 weeks44:27

44:27

Life rarely turns out the way I plan, but rather its negation. If I could trace back how this interview came about, it would be because I was part of a small reading group on Julia Kristeva’s abjection. During this time, funny enough, I brought up the artist formerly known as Kanye West concerning abjection. This was before October 7, but I was schooled relentlessly by my three white colleagues about my ignorance. This, however, led me to study psychoanalysis and the taboo topic of Ye, the artist formerly known as Kanye West. Through this fortunate event, I met scholar, psychoanalyst, and artist Dr. Robert K. Beshara , who wrote “ A Psychoanalytic Biography of Ye: The Legacy of Unconditional Love. ” Dr. Beshara is the editor of the book * Critical Psychology Praxis - Psychosocial Non-alignment to Modernity / Coloniality. * In this book, Dr. Beshara brought together a range of authors from around the world into dialogue, introducing scholars to the ideas of post-coloniality and the conceptual and historical issues in psychology, as well as anthropology and sociology courses that engage with action research. Thanks to Dr. Beshara’s introduction, I am excited to share my conversation with Dr. Fu Wai, an Associate Professor in the Department of Counseling Psychology at Hong Kong Shue Yan University. He is working on establishing courses, curriculum, and materials related to critical psychology in Hong Kong. His research interests include the history of psychology, ancient Chinese philosophy (including the school of names and diplomats), the history of the hypnosis movement in Republican China, and Freudian and Lacanian psychoanalysis as applied in critical psychology. He founded the Signifier, a hub for young Hong Kong scholars who share ideas in psychoanalysis, contemporary philosophy, and literature. Dr. Fu’s publications are mainly in Chinese and include *City in Oral Stage* (2010), *Taipei/Lotus* (2011), and *300.9 (F99)*—a novel illustrating Lacanian concepts. Dr. Fu Wai is also a committee member of the Hong Kong General Union of School Counseling Professionals, promoting the labor rights of oppressed frontline workers in Hong Kong. In this discussion, we discuss Lacanian psychoanalysis in Hong Kong, Pepe the Frog and E-Sports. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit ayoto.substack.com/subscribe…

مرحبًا بك في مشغل أف ام!

يقوم برنامج مشغل أف أم بمسح الويب للحصول على بودكاست عالية الجودة لتستمتع بها الآن. إنه أفضل تطبيق بودكاست ويعمل على أجهزة اندرويد والأيفون والويب. قم بالتسجيل لمزامنة الاشتراكات عبر الأجهزة.