I have not abandoned the event.
I am still in the event, even when unaware.
In referring to ‘the event’ I am not referencing relevant currents of philosophy – Badiou, Derrida or Heidegger, etc. – or not referencing them strongly.
I have some sense, for instance, that Badiou discusses the event in terms of novelty. The event is the eruption of the unknown and the unknowable. It forces things in new directions.
But this is not my concern.
I am thinking of the event in more literal terms – as, for example, a sporting event. The event calls for endurance and commitment, but always with an overall sense of artifice. I could just as well be lying in bed on Saturday morning, but instead I’m at Parkrun trying to beat my best 5k time.
The event is pointless, but prompts dedicated effort. The event represents a structuring of space and time to lend life an arbitrary sense of purpose and meaning.
The event is superstitious. I cannot help but commit to it. In committing to it I cannot help but think that this will somehow make a difference, that will earn me some kind of credit, that it will make me a better person, that the suffering it entails is worthwhile. But none of this actually follows. The event is ultimately empty and it redeems and fails to redeem precisely through its emptiness.