[NetBehaviour] Home, Home on the Screen
ignotus at gmail.com
Tue Oct 19 10:19:51 CEST 2021
Prose poem composed for the Fubar2k21 Glitch Festival in Zagreb, performed
online Thursday, October 7, 2021. The numbers refer to a
combinatorial scheme used in generating the text.
Home, home on the screen,
where nullmachines harvest dataflesh.
Home on the web, where disinfocowboys
brand undead propaganda bots.
In the breaks and badlands, bodyminds
glitch remix databend hybrid mutant identities.
Can bodyminds unsuture fear?
Crack undead identities, break open fissures?
In the fissures, some of us land
and others are born.
Lodge in the rifts to learn othering from others.
My eye is a heart of stone.
A seed lodged in a crack can split a rock.
A tree grew from a boulder.
Says: Freedom is service to God.
Says: Take refuge in the dharma.
Says: Along the dry creek bed, walk in Beauty.
Grief take root in ashes, in broken lands.
Grief split open scars, grow
down to bedrock bone.
Grief chain the past, grief choke the future.
Bearing invisible gifts, I thank the earth.
In the sacred grove, we seek the oldest tree.
You might be standing right beside it,
but you wouldn’t see it.
What joy rages through me to be alive!
Hungry and curious, life seeks life.
Life makes matter matter.
Disarm unbind crack scrap
retool the machine of language.
The dataflesh harvest
drives disparities of wealth.
Bodyminds we are and we
will not be branded dataflesh.
The young see visions
and the old dream dreams.
Dream with me: we travel for hours
through inhabited wilderness.
Clouds of subtle lightning bridged by
filaments of grace attend our passage.
When we were happy, we were so happy.
Now we are dust to the bone.
Through obstacles and errors,
the kindred body learns.
Who goes among you and asks,
will you be my people?
To emerge into the realm of choice,
we must endure the agony of vision.
What we choose then, will mark
the world for all time.
Resolute and vulnerable, I speak the truth.
Two fingers laid side by side,
sign of equanimity or love.
What dream or vision
could sway the world to rebirth?
A blind woman threads the valley,
walking as if without thought.
Says to us: To bring you light
I have returned from nightmare.
Says: Call upon my vision and renew the world.
Hear the flute that sighs in old bones.
Hear the drum that booms in young bellies.
Do you not hear the still, small voice
encoded in the whirlwind?
Our meat and bread consume us,
hunger devouring hunger.
Are you the angry hand, the monster
that swallows the sea and everything in it?
Or the patient seed that splits
the rock and renews the land?
I have forgotten my sorrow,
my future, my name.
The glacier cut a notch in the mountain;
the rain carved a canyon.
Learn to be quiet watching the river for trout.
The raw livestream can be accessed here: https://youtu.be/1vm9yeSTaoM. It
was beset with technical problems, explained in the description. Consider
it a work in progress. I hope to do it again, either as a video or again as
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