[NetBehaviour] jump to the point

Alan Sondheim sondheim at panix.com
Sat Mar 29 14:37:41 CET 2008



jump to the point

Sheave skin / carapace like leather illustrating theoretical talk. I'm
sick of the human form. It jumps from one reading to another; it recep-
tion is too automated, too buried. It's far too familiar, too vulnerable
to defuge, over-cathecting, decathecting, arousal, hormonal secretions,
reflex archaeology of fear, flight, violence, love, imprinting, fetishiz-
ation. It's brutal; it catalyzes behavioral repertoires - states jump
catastrophically from one to another. It's as if there's no abjection or
no abjection worth talking about (you can't talk about abjection). I'm
sick of abjection, sick of steamy sleazy squeamed-space; its liminality
depends on the body and what's taken for its (sickening) normative form.
Bend it, twist it, otherwise transform it - the elements always assert
themselves, our eyes betray us into false familiarity. So here goes again
another variation just as almost every story is variation on bodies
through time, bodies squawking, squealing, mewling, talking, yakking,
yacking, yapping, humming, singing, whatever bodies do, I guess cry,
weeping, laughing. There's only somewhat bodies do; there's only somewhat
subjects see.

I'm sick of the discourse of bodies, fluids, war, violence, arousal, sex,
secretion, membrane, excretion, effluvia, defuge, liquidity, the damp and
scent, the odor and smell, wound, carapace, tissue, flesh, scar, pain;
what more could possibly be said, recast, transformed, transfused, in-
fused, written and rewritten, wrytten - in fact or fancy, inscription or
symbol, mark or token, analog or digital, subject or object, fissure or
sinter, sign or image, imaginary or imaginary? It goes on and on, struc-
ture and substructure, text and subtext, mathesis and semiosis, substance
and process, state and operator. It never breaks out; it can't break out,
it's all their is, even inscription goes on within it, emptiness goes on
within it, tantra goes on within and without it, analogic and metonymic,
metaphoric and contrary: discrete and the wound of nothingness.

So again it's trying to talk, trying to assemble, to dissemble, trying to
_seem,_ trying to walk-talk in airless space, in dimension-five space, in
slice-of-death. It's trying to tell us something, we're too bored to care,
too inundated to listen, too lost for comfort: we're the dis of dis/ease,
dis/comfort, dis/semble, dis/crete. Bodies churn, worlds are minimal, true
world is all there is, is there.

http://www.alansondheim.org/nsf2.mp4 new file w/old name, amazing

Stretched faces, I'm sick of stretching, I can't face them, you see the
faceless, you'll make something out of it, you'll make something with it,
you'll make something of it. I'm done with it, it's done with me, it's the
same old story that's the same old story, it's the other, there's none
other, there's nothing accountable, it's unaccounted-for, unaccountable,
uncountable, it's abject, I'm gone, I'm out of here, I'm lost in it, I'm
lost in you, I'm lost in them, I'm outside looking in, I'm inside looking
out.

(It's not Araki, Bellmer, Bataille, Spears, Hilton, twitch, shudder,
shutter, glimpse, diary, sickness, phallus, objet, ding, plastic, mobile,
film, tableau, dream, real, virtual, uncanny, fantasy, phantasy, inert,
obdurate, video, video-telephone, suture, surgery, mandala, mantra, life,
artificial, death, continuous, discrete, presence, absence, Being, beings,
nothingness, creation, annihilation. It's secret manic joy, shortcut
phenomenology, spinoff organism, crash-land Tokyo, hummock and plasma
ecology. It's high-speed try before I die, everything I didn't dream of,
deliverance from thought, one last chance, electrostatic kinography. It's
this misplaced paragraph, worlding as-if parenthetical enclosure con-
structs the good-old-fashioned-real, Beau-Brummel-Roseland-Cafe-Wha-Anti-
Club, Minutemen solo at the door. It's dead countries. It's dead.)




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