One can think of the camera as a tool, an instrument, a machine that enables images to be recorded. These images can then be projected.

Words have a history. What the dictionary told us—in times past—of projeter, to project, was ‘jeter dehors’, the image evoked being that of rejecting something, throwing it out, while the word projet, a project, which has the same origin, evokes ‘all that by which people tend to modify the world or themselves in a given way’.

One is well aware that what's rejected is not worth much, is detritus. It's not particularly surprising that so many projections do indeed cause one to think of a rubbish dump on the outskirts of a village. Society takes out its rubbish and contemplates, and is moved by, the result of its effort. Society sees itself in the household rubbish that is projected in various formats. But what then is the Itself in question? Do people see themselves as they are? They see the leftovers, the packaging, the rejections, and are prompted to contemplate what they don't want, or no longer want, from their own customary. Nothing is lost. Projections are consumer goods. Thus functions a recovery circuit in which household rubbish holds on tight to what's imagined, projected.

One sees the S’ functioning as a dominant instrument on a detour by way of the camera, that small chamber ruled, reigned over, by a camérier, or chamberlain, ‘an officer in the pope or cardinal's chambers’, or by a camériste, or chambermaid, ‘a woman who attended to a princess’. On occasion, it's the camerlingue, or camerlengo: ‘a cardinal of the papal court who administers justice and the treasury, presides over the apostolic chamber, and governs when the Holy See is vacant.’

This is the case in the Petit Robert dictionary, which makes no mention of the cameraman. Though it is true that he who shoots a film occasionally takes himself to be the pope.