Counter Strike Designs

Cut into matchsticks, in other words, dissatisfied with anticipation even in summary, he gets on the telephone and says all his words for me are figments of radio over surfaces of vogue pray, rain or hail in collision with hard commercial car stereo on or garland on a banister: texture, texture, structure

--

We who are not proximate, still not discrete, stop distance from counting as lend it the highest number, venge between now and then, telegram stomach, happy to receive it, happiest that the line perceives itself round, like a leg or a town or neighbors

Or abdicate my shape and become an environment, a reich, a limit, my upbringing cut into matchsticks and drench and feels like forever but I saw you one yesterday before and you inventoried my gazes as detachment, raid, and gists of themselves cut into settings, clinging to firebread

Of course us is becoming a field, in other words restive, harvested, in less, smallmodernfamily, and modernity becoming our fled-by-bicycle course, two helmets side by side on slight hooks
sideways bright against the night vehicle night brook night kiln cypress, my father ever feeling whole and sublimated blueprint of away in which, I made it and, yes I made it

Bare Particulars

Retirement on a sugar coat rack, but all abstain from overstimulation no matter its form. Psyche dispatching feelers to consciousness and back, dustbinning memory of past action like sourdough into geese. Not even white pear curling around roots will remain. Tangled under sunbulbs across the ether but not a oneness attendant, and Ahhh, the warmth metastasizes without attribution.

This restoration though! Nanobotic slumber bath, instant mustard seed of energy and encryption. Whisper down holographic roads, joining drivers dipping erect neurons into icons::::home/systems/ideator::::of an interior desktopographic. Scale forward in the prime mover's hands to neighbors, eyeing eyeing touching touching meeting meeting subatoms.

We know not what.

The Spectacle of The Museum Photograph

I have had a photography project for several months now that involves what Brian calls "the investigation of the "liminal zones" between the critical and the creative, body and landscape" (and, I might add, viewer/viewed, but this distinction could just be a "narrowing" of interior/exterior).

I have been studying people who take photographs of art objects in museums. These people and their activities are very interesting. A study of them raises many questions about art and the public, art and technology, the museum and technology, and the social role of associating oneself with certain art objects and events.



What is the object of attention here? Marilyn? Warhol? The little girl who wants to be Marilyn? The photographer? What's foreground, what's background?



Why do the art-object photographers *care* about the photos they're taking? They don't seem to care about the art qua art because if they did, they would spend some time with it rather than hastily snapping a photo and moving on.

Is such photography the new graffiti - a personal and at least prima facie non-destructive "Joe was here"? If so, does it "vandalize" the art or the art "viewer" in any way?



There are many questions. Hopefully you find these pictures intriguing, terrifying, and amusing.

guattari flashback brazil '82

Yes, I believe that there is a multiple people, a people of mutants, a people of potentialities that appears and disappears, that is embodied in social, literary, and musical events.... I think that we're in a period of productivity, proliferation, creation, utterly fabulous revolutions from the viewpoint of this emergence of a people. That's molecular revolution: it isn't a slogan or a program, it's something that I feel, that I live....

and

Without modifications to the social and material environment, there can be no change in mentalities. Here, we are in the presence of a circle that leads me to postulate the necessity of founding an "ecosophy" that would link environmental ecology to social ecology and to mental ecology...

--from Molecular Revolution in Brazil

Semiotic House Assembly

'...Plain as it is to us that what the world seeks through desert and wild, we have in our thresholds

So plain as it is to us that there is no such thing as a husband and he has no such ending as wife

And plain as it is to us that there is no such place as serious as home

And plain as it is to us that there may be no such manifesto as place as this....'

With this excerpt from a less recent poem of mine in mind, I wrote this new, fresh, raw, semi epileptic poem below, last night. Please note that the formatting is off since I'm not posting this as an attachment, and I'll figure out how to fix that soon. Of course I'm soliciting response, commentary, ideally in the form of others' 'poesies,' pieces "of air in the epic."

http://greatamericanpinup.blogspot.com/2006/04/brenda-hillmanpieces-of-air-in-epic.html

In Order to Survive

Upcounty

the casino

round shape of winning brings cylinder brings engine brings destination brings the hegemony of demand over function as in spinningunderwaterlungs invent the air it costs to talk makes nerves near the surface hawks aggravate and paddle in the reflexion of saying, us offering nation to the swollen money

Tame shape of round with me, round ribbon swimmer children emblem faith when they hike the water for wheels and pace each airtealriverbrisk of earning a word before its antecedent, similar to meeting kindred. This is premonition why 'God is dumb,' we trust him, why dumb as us inventing bodies to speak in and calling them states, interests, formal shape of government as any word in unison with its negation, state for example, again, country place, milk, milktaste, hope, inextricable, why the same symbol repeating means victory to the game machine Three clovers, three inaugural fervor, three versions of folk luck: the token, the land-in, the location You've come here with me at the nickel mashing the nickel into a sea shell microphone and we build a speech through the value and into intuitive use clone a value, attempting to prove ourselves of no reason but hungry which brings empty which brings the temptation to feed and tocount: me, now, and memory

These many languages I favor into one swoop of order : that I need to exempt water, to tension air, to land land terrain, when, there you are looking famous as a coin face, vague and exchangeable word for yourself, my any abolitionist, my gambling habit, my eye forget your name but lights flash, and win pour out, and I use the loud metal for a house, place to go to place another round.

refashion futures like a healer's hand

Harmony pointed out: "Trees are indeed 'alphabets,' and so deletion is implied, atonality, language denaturing and running out of connotations to rationalize it meta-spiritually or in any other allied capacity. Turns out even Gertrude Stein turned to Spiritism and Automatic Writing http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Automatic_writing to reconcile self with self with spoken self poesies, and even Darwin, which is just to say the crisis is way too elite and wanna be anonymous for its own good. Kamau Braithwaite speaks on it, on ladders. (You can hear for yourself, follow the link.)"

http://www.sendspace.com/file/rix4e3

Agreed, of course, particularly that the schisms between self/language/landscape/fabrication are overcoded, their effects pervasive beyond their own localities. I do wonder, though, does atonality exist in nature? I only ask because atonality is largely culturally contingent, the so-called rules for tonality vary from mileau to mileau. Does the natural world have its own system for harmony? Do languages have resonant frequencies?

statement(s) of intent

It now appears incontestable that the natural world has been, and is still, suffering from its centuries old role-reversal, its transfiguration through the industrial age into an instrumentalized resource assemblage, occasionally unpredictable but otherwise subject to the immense and all-encompassing streamlinings of modernism. Modernism being a metastisis of three hundred years of momentum set in motion by the Enlightenment: since then, nature has been framed as something which is heroically overcome.

Scientific discourse, however, is in the midst of shedding machine metaphors in favor of digital-organic models, which has opened to us a space both novel and immemorial: as we are rearticulated through molecular biology as systems quite akin to those found in nature, our perceptions of ourselves and of the natural world are problematized and rendered inextricable; this is not to speak of the imperatives which have arisen as human impact on the earth rapidly renders itself distressingly intelligible. Our habitual and entirely contingent configurations are, ecologically speaking, endangered.

Of course, we have never been truly apart, and this intertwining, both immemorial and urgent, is the nexus of our concern, our curiosities. If poetry has its origin in the body, and the body is bound up in a relationship with the natural world, we are compelled to interrogate the connections between processes of the natural world, as well as body/language parallels.

As poets--utilizing a particularly broad understanding of the term: Poesis: We are interested and invested in an interdisciplinary multitude of making-- we are highly ambivalent towards any sort of Romantic, transcendentalizing discourse which refers to nature, understanding the reference is always an act of instrumentalization. Instead, this is an ongoing, open-source, critical-creative emergence which aims to remain acutely aware of itself and its network of entanglements with biology and ecology. Aware, also, that the connotations of 'eco' & 'poetics' have been depoliticized and widely disseminated and accepted by even those whom would appear most invested in their activity, effectively limiting their possibilities and futures.

We are ambivalent towards confessional accounts, not because we are adverse to the idea of a self, but because the acts of looking outwards and looking inwards are no longer discrete. There is wilderness within and without. This is a double articulation, and humans are no longer the only creative agent, perhaps not even the primary subject: as Bachelard reminded us, "According to the Greeks, trees are alphabets."

We are, as many poets and designers before us, looking and heading towards the natural world, but not with the intent to escape from civilization and its contemporary predicaments, but to gain a perspective on them, to reinvigorate our sense of agency that is rooted in our circulatory system, so that we may engage from new points of vantage. The eco-governmentality of poetics: design as not only the means by which we may relocate ourselves in the natural world (a nomadic indigeneaity), but also as political formations which may act as agents in a globalized ecological-economic context. How might a revaluation of the power relations between biology, poetry, and the natural world inaugurate new forms of action, of governmentality, of resistance? Of art? And what might the nature of power and the power of nature have in common?

Also: we are asking how we may utilize a medium (the internet) whose essential characteristic is speed, to offer modes of thinking, of looking, of making, which are not fully driven by (while fully aware of) contemporary temporalities.

We are attempting to articulate an ethics of creating spaces with a perceptiveness to environment, and are at present investigating unutilized limnal zones (like a game, really. What are games but making room to play), rupturing and activating and co-mingling the territories that have been established between categories including, but not limited to: critical/creative, physiology/psychology, biology/ecology, interior/exterior, form/content, language/poetry, design/utility, body/landscape.

This is not an act of annexing an individual or group apart, but rather a proliferation into neglected or previously-undelineated realms. An infection, a mutation of poetry-biology-ecology, a stimulation of new formations of poetic biodiveristy. Impure ideas. Writing, photography, installation, music, architecture, hybrids yet to come.

For now, this is a blog because we feel our project to be urgent, and because this is an attempt to foster a movement whose effects are lasting through a medium which is ephemeral and often thought to be lacking in physicality. But it is our sincere hope and desire (among thousands of streams of hope and desire) that the spores offered here will be carried through and out of bitstreams and dispersed into realms and disciplines unimagined by ourselves...