Mark Fisher RIP

Urbanomic’s obituary is excellent throughout. A telling snippet:

Having unexpectedly had an abstract for a joint conference paper accepted, and following a lengthy train journey, Mark and I began writing our paper the morning before the conference (of course), and a state of panic swiftly morphed into a sleep-deprived, hysterical flow state. It was hugely enjoyable, because Mark was never happier than when swept up in working on something that seemed to be building itself, soliciting further input, coalescing into some unexpected entity before his eyes, suggesting new double-meanings, puns, unexpected connections between the abstract and the empirical, Marvel Comics-style names for as-yet unnamed forces, concepts for unrecognised processes. Then the self-doubt would disappear, the anxiety would dissipate (even if the paper had to be given in a few hours!) and he would be in his element: that outside element, something beyond the strictures of the personal, that fuels enthusiasm and enthralled fascination with what is being ‘channelled’.

Mark Fisher’s life was an extreme manic-depressive roller-coaster, which he constantly sought to cosmically (and socio-politically) rationalize. The upswings were incandescent with a creative energy beyond anything I have ever witnessed (or engaged with). The downswings were hell. Finally, he reached one he was unable to wait-out.

The Ccru was only one stage in his life, though it was of course the one I knew best. His contribution was so complete that it eludes any attempt at isolation. That Ccru happened at all was only due to his absorption into the entity. When he dropped out — during an earlier season in the abyss, around the turn of the Millennium — it was over.

ADDED: An obituary from Simon Reynolds.

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