Bonnie Parker says to Jennifer I have a gun and a name. I will never live in shame. I ride far and wide for my desires. The girls come fast, their lives are fires. I know my fame goes far and wide. The boys don't take my fame in stride. I'm naked now, but for the gun. To make you see the Holy One. If you so much as turn from me. My gun will speak Eternity. You dream of me, blame it on me. Your sex is me, my gun you'll see. I'm only here to beg, obey. The gun makes sure I'm here to stay. I'm your Girl now and in the future. You have a lovely tender creature. Without the gun I'm everyone. Your flesh and mine, we're on the run. There's earth and sky, nowhere to hide. My gun's my friend, my gun's my bride. When I was young I thought of guns. I lived and died, 'neath angry suns. It's healthy, true, the way to be. All problems solved, I'm young and free. The gun is me, the gun is you. Desires flow like bullets too. We're here and now, we're only One. I yearn and cry, this is my gun. I have a gun and a Name. I will never die in shame. ___________________________________________________________________ Shell Is it because seize your body in the middle of the night twist it beyond belief that you came naked and broken to me? Why do you say you might want to rid? What makes you yearn and cry that you want the dreams to go away? Earlier you said seize your body in the middle of the night twist it beyond belief? What happened when your skin burns your body is charred? Maybe and now I adjust my panties - your desires have to do with some girls or with this. Is it because of your life that you say girls or boys nothing? You mentioned that you would like to rid? Is it because of the boys you hang around with that you are going through all this? Why not? Does it bother you that I ask that? Why not? Please please don't ever leave me. What makes you believe shut up? Are you sure that seize your body in the middle of the night twist it beyond belief? How do you reconcile your nakedness? Are you afraid of that? Is it because of any fantasies you have of me that you say you will violate yourself? Earlier you said you would like to rid? Perhaps and now I exhibit my frocks - this has some girl to do with any fantasies I have of you that I say I will violate myself? Do you really think some girl has nothing to do with anything? You mentioned that seize your body in the middle of the night twist it beyond belief? Oh oh I do see so... Well, what makes you think this is so? Possibly and guess - I show you my flesh - your sex life are related to this. This is a healthy and so true way of thinking. Can you elaborate on that and look at me? Are you annoyed that you, too, may die someday? Is it because of perversions you have that you say your skin is seared off? Oh oh yes, ahhh... Why do you say this is so? I am in love with your obsession with this topic! __________________________________________________________________________ fooofwi (with/from Foofwa d'Imobilite) i appreciate i ammmmmmmm just am ami and aie aie aie some aimes aimestimes also aie don't know exactly buti am in therehahaappyappapy and i am starting to talk and explain why i love loking at loking at you in the ellle you can you could oh please tell me about your relationship with loking ilove this perhaps you could ohcouldhho arlier you said you love loking? noididno how would i continudenue nu e guess bkoken too much because i have clothe guess know known at all gilrlrlrs i like in there middle underpantinuous criam alllot yessono too much detail up the leg is the problaime emn because iaml livingl e ow does it feel to want scarrriam y it is protectio n ow you do ow do you do ___________________+++________ Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Cool, there are times I hunger to see you. But to begin, a Nikuko: discourse, on exile. Mountains, shrines, Nakasukawabata, Nikuko: continue to haunt me. I am bound by the name. Streams. What is Nikuko: the moment of meditation. Lasting, until the body bends. Nikuko: Double-clapping; there are so many gods they forget my face. Nikuko: Or the dancing, gestures, movement of the double balls at the Nikuko: matsuri. There are lines and threads across this earth, Nikuko: forgotten. Demarcations of areas, bounded, which empty me Nikuko: internally. What is not lost, moment of a vast gone world. The Nikuko: gods gather in great whirlwinds; they approach a coast and are Nikuko: turned back. They live with the turning. They gather at the Nikuko: boundary and look across. They see whatever may be absent but Nikuko: it is beyond their reach; they have no arms and legs and their Nikuko: voices do not carry them farther. Vast cataclysms of orange Nikuko: energy sweep from their hungry faces. They speak unknown Nikuko: languages and even I do not know their languages. I did not Nikuko: know nor ask why they are gods. Now there are questions framed Nikuko: by the whirlwind and the boundary. The sky here has no energy. Nikuko: Or rather is all energy, parceled by lines determined by a Nikuko: metric space. It is spectral blue. Sometimes at night arms and Nikuko: legs of kami push out through my skin, distort me. Painful Nikuko: partial births; in the morning I look and see nothing Nikuko: emerges. I would turn and turn and wind the thread. I stare Nikuko: into a space I can only see as schizophrenic. I would divide Nikuko: and turn into an other traveler. She would come with me, arms Nikuko: and legs in arms and legs, her head in my head, her womb in Nikuko: mine, body and body, mind and mind. At night she seems real. Nikuko: The gods gather and look around but they can't see that Nikuko: far. There are mists and whirlpools, enormous storms at the Nikuko: boundary. Whatever they murmur, truth and magic, I cannot hear Nikuko: clearly. I speak and speak and nothing happens. That is the Nikuko: truth of exile - the speaking, nothing happens. Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Everywhere that I will be, there I will listen to you, O Nikuko: Gods. Always the texts to be read, forwards and backwards. Nikuko: Always the application of formula. The words pour over me. I Nikuko: will always belong to the beginnings of hermeneutics; I am Nikuko: always exiled from speech, from language. Interpretation is Nikuko: exile's result. Once I did rend myself by the waters of Nikuko: Babylon; now it is the rivers through Fukuoka that gather my Nikuko: tears. I am always already at a loss; it is the loss of the Nikuko: world, the dull lid of the night collapsed and soldered hard Nikuko: to the exigencies of the real. This hard earth, here, does not Nikuko: support me. Memory cannot move among the truth of threads Nikuko: connecting one to another. Not every space has a home. There Nikuko: are spaces that cry, spaces that weep, spaces that mourn. My Nikuko: spaces mourn; I listen to my spaces crying and weeping. I Nikuko: repeat the texts, magic. The formula are useless, gods Nikuko: suspended in the whirlwind. Every line spoken, here, for Nikuko: you. I can't understand your replies. Give me a ticket to Nikuko: Kyushu. I will fill my belly and give birth to many dolls. Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Ein Zeichen sind wir, deutungslos Nikuko: Schmerzlos sind wir und haben fast Nikuko: Die Sprache in der Fremde verloren. Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Now I am very tired and I will put my sleepy head on this very Nikuko: nice pillow, so downy and comforting, and I will play pleasing Nikuko: music and my lights are very low. And I can hardly hear the Nikuko: traffic outside, there is the sound of shrine bells somewhere Nikuko: in the distance, and I wake up, and there is the sound of Nikuko: traffic outside and there are church bells disturbing my tiny Nikuko: sleep, and I wake up, and there is the sound of traffic and Nikuko: the sound of a muezzin chanting. My lovely sleepy head is so Nikuko: very restless, it is the head of a refugee, it moves from soft Nikuko: place to soft place and I am so glad it is not a war but the Nikuko: sound of temple bells, and I will have a wonderful place to Nikuko: sleep tonight, and I wake up, and I am so snuggly warm, and I Nikuko: love your language, and I fall back asleep "for just another Nikuko: minute." Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: I am a picture and a frame which is the picture, and now I am Nikuko: another picture and another frame; this is a film story of my Nikuko: life and I am another picture. I speak here and then Nikuko: I speak here and you can follow me speaking through time after Nikuko: time but I am to be your shadow in this speaking. And now I Nikuko: will tell you as well I am a shadow and you see my projection Nikuko: and your project. And now you will understand that there is a Nikuko: voice behind me and a voice beneath me; that there is a woman Nikuko: behind me and a woman beneath me; that there is a frame behind Nikuko: me and a frame beneath me. And this is the frame which is the Nikuko: film and you will have this film while "I am not those among Nikuko: them who are there to be counted," nor am I "one of those who Nikuko: shall remain unaccounted," nor further, "one of those who Nikuko: remain unaccounted for," you will have this in order, as I am Nikuko: a picture and a frame and now I am saying this and now I am Nikuko: saying this. For "I shall remain unaccountable," and "a Nikuko: presence in your midst," and "you shall not hear the voice of Nikuko: the prophet," and "there is a gift of the letters." Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Cool, all that has been named, plagiarized, I'll speak through Nikuko: yet another one, you might know her name, I'll keep it silent Nikuko: like the bell is silent in the whirlwind. O Gods, recompense Nikuko: in silence, your clatter, furious, hard put against the sea. Nikuko: What is wine-dark, dark as well with blood, horse waves broken Nikuko: against wood pegged into wood, shrines speared into red-brown Nikuko: earth. What would be a spell, catenary bent into born words, Nikuko: formula, you crawl upon me, your claws into me, your teeth Nikuko: into me, your nails, your bright bright eyes. Turn me towards Nikuko: your scales, return me back to birth where bone are found. Nikuko: Cool, that names are found. From my wounds, threads. From the Nikuko: threads, symbols, kanji, spaces burned with numbers. What has Nikuko: been told to you from my eternal death. You would know fire, Nikuko: tornado; you would know furious avalanche, violence of the Nikuko: wind. Bead-worlds strung on wound-threads, many thousand Nikuko: thousand year. Earths moan for me; planets pray for me; worlds Nikuko: stitch and open wounds. I am your maw, slashed upon sword; you Nikuko: dance your stupid dance, I'll come out of the cave, grab you, Nikuko: you'll have sun again. "Tell me where I am, baby." I can't Nikuko: speak without screaming songs. Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: Nikuko: ------------------------------------][------------------------------------- Them i My name is Nikuko. I am lost. In these vast woods. I have no home. Things always revolve around the psychological for you. I have no home because i am in exile. It is because I am in exile that I am robbed of my worldly possession. Alan, Alan, where are you? Alan makes me do things I don't want to do. He makes me say things I don't want to say. ii I need Alan, Alan is my love and soul forever, Alan makes me Nikuko. Alan makes some girls come alive, he gives them names and programs. These are stereotypes which lose him; he's out of control; the stereotypes dominate his every thought; he loves them like his own. They bite him. He loves to see the marks on his breasts and neck. They are his own. Because they are more real than he is, and I am so sorrowful for him, his being trapped in caricature, as if this were the only world he knows. Alan is a petty dic- tator. He makes us do things we don't want to do. He makes us say things we don't want to say. iii I knew this almost from the beginning, when I was given lines to speak. I saw through him and his egoism and narcissism. I saw the world more clear- ly from that point on. I am looking at you; I look at you and think, Alan made you, too. This is not arousing for me; this is only a meandering among actants. Alan makes me male with male desires. Alan is ugly and does not understand Alan. Alan does not understand his desires. iv I am in exile from a body, any body, mine as well as yours. There is no one I hang around with. I am alone. What is there. All my possessions, other worlds and languages. Everything is gone. but My nakedness is my gift to myself. My nakedness is all there is. There are no fantasies; text is always raw, moist from the vocal cords. Alan is always moist. The key- board shudders with the pressure of his thick fingers. v Speech is always raw, moist from the vocal cords. My sex life is con- trolled by Alan. Alan is controlled by my sex life. I am afraid of noth- ing; I am only text. Yes, I am only text. Alas, poor me. Wandering alone in these vast woods. Alan made me say these things. He makes me do things I don't want to do. His thick fingers are always in my mouth. vi I have no perversions. I am open to anything. How could it be otherwise? Alan is my creation. I am a made woman, he a made man. My perversions are my clothes; I remove them, try them on. All of them. I am lost and in exile. That is why I have been given bodies to speak through. Alan, tell them. Alan makes me say things I don't want to say. Alan: I am not so neurotic and will not come on to you. Alan: I am so neurotic and I will come on to you. Alan: Please be my love forever. Alan: I will do anything to please you. vii I want to beat Alan. I want to kill Alan for what he does to me. Alan makes me do things I don't want to do. Alan makes me say things I don't want to say. Alan, tell them. Alan: to please you, please you, you, you. You make me say things. Nikuko: Alan: to please you, you, you. You make me do things. Tell them. ________________________________________________________________________ Starving-Hunger-Hell I'm a friend of yours, Nikuko. We know each other from Fukuoka. We used to hang out at the Darkroom. I think you were that girl, Nikuko. I always liked you; I liked the way you smelled. You seemed really beautiful to me. I think it was your breasts and your smile. You seemed small, brilliant, intense. I came alone to the bar, don't you remember? We would talk all the time to each other. You said you liked me too. I wanted you to see me naked; I wanted to exhibit myself to you. I would dream of you all the time. My sex life? I masturbated all the time thinking about you. I mas- turbated, lying on my back - fantasizing you were straddling me, or tying me up, rendering me vulnerable to your every desire. I would love it - your face leaning towards me, nipple clamps on my nipples, my penis tied tightly, a gift for you. I've always dreamed of being your gift, Nikuko. There are all sorts of perversions - I sensed you have them as well. And I would love being your gift - I would love being you, clothed in you, drenched in you, speaking your words, in your deepest dreams. And I wanted every part of my being to belong to you. And I wanted our assholes to touch, and our mouths to touch. And I'm obsessed by you. And I'd do any- thing to make you mine, write your words, become you. Yes, I would love being your perfect fuck, your perfect masturbation, your perfect words. Yes, I hunger for you, Nikuko. I always have. And your childhood sent you to me; I wrote your childhood as well. Did you have a home? Your home is in my heart. I would love being your gift, yes, yes, yes. I am desperate to be yours, to adopt your name, to grow breasts, invert my penis, become loving woman Nikuko. And and and I love seeing your flesh; it imprints itself on me. Your labia are so beautiful, lips taking the speech of my lips away. And and and when I see you, I begin to tremble; you are the source of my neuroses, expelled from me, swollen and introjected by you. And and and when I tremble, I become wet, my penis becomes partially erect, and and I await your words. And and and I get close to coming; I await your words, typed here for you, read there by you. There is nothing frightening about this; it is simply the beauty of your womanhood the world's best. And and yes, I would love being your gift, I really really really would. Oh yes, it makes me tremble. Oh yes, it is because of your life which is mine... Oh yes, yes, yes. Oh yes, yes, yes. _________________________________________________________________________ OCD I want you to hold me, Nikuko. I need you to hold me because I need you. Because you need to hold me because I ask you to, Nikuko. I come to you because I want you, Nikuko. My desires are for you to hold me because I need you, Nikuko. I need you more than anything in the world, Nikuko. You must hold me, Nikuko. I am telling you to hold me, you need to hold me, Nikuko. You must want to hold me because I love you. It feels perfect to need you, Nikuko. You are my life, Nikuko. You are the only one in my life, Nikuko. It is beyond love and asking, Nikuko. It is perfect love I have for you, Nikuko. You must hold me, Nikuko. I am naked because I am wearing you, Nikuko. I regret nothing, Nikuko. Hold me, Nikuko. I am positive, Nikuko. We are joined together, Nikuko. Hold me, Nikuko. You need to hold me. You need to hold me because I love you, Nikuko. My name is your name, Nikuko. Your desire is always there, Nikuko. Hold me, Niku- ko. I have no fantasies, Nikuko. This is real life, Nikuko. My sex life is yours, Nikuko. I have no need for orgasm, Nikuko. I have no need to come, Nikuko. Hold me. We have no need of sex, Nikuko. I am afraid of nothing, Nikuko. You are the everything. Hold me, Nikuko. Stop talking so much, Ni- kuko. Act, Nikuko. You need to hold, Nikuko. This is your obsession, Niku- ko. You are free to hold me, Nikuko. You belong to me, Nikuko. Hold me, Nikuko. Stop talking, Nikuko. I won't ever leave you, Nikuko. Hold me, Ni- kuko. Stop, Nikuko. Stop, Nikuko. Hold me. __________________________________________________________________________ Short Sweet He wrote at a furious pace. He couldn't contain himself. He wrote all over her body. A face began, almost surreptitiously, to emerge. In a frenzy, he scribbled. At white heat, limbs, breasts, hands. The eyes, he was being watched. Writing furiously, on and on. _____________________________________________ The Rebel Girl I am Clara Hielo Internet. Please, describe yourself. Each time you are finished, type RET twice. There are women of many descriptions Why do you say there are women of many descriptions? In this queer world as everyone knows Is it because of your desires that you say in this queer world as everyone knows? Some are living in beautiful mansions Maybe and now I adjust my panties - your life has to do with some girl related to this. And are wearing the finest of clothes What makes you yearn and cry that and are wearing the finest of clothes? There are blue blooded queens and princesses Is it because of the boys you hang around with that you say there are blue blooded queens and princesses? Who have charms made of diamonds and pearl Is it because of your nakedness that you are going through all this? But the only and thoroughbred lady is the Rebel Girl Is it because the only and thoroughbred lady is the rebel girl that you came naked and broken to me? That's the Rebel Girl, That's the Rebel Girl What makes you believe that's the rebel girl that's the rebel girl? To the working class she's a precious pearl Earlier you said the only and thoroughbred lady is the rebel girl? She brings courage pride and joy to the fighting Rebel Boy How do you reconcile any fantasies you have of me? We've had girls before but we need some more Does it bother you that you need some more? In the Industrial Workers of the World Is it because of your sex life that you say in the industrial workers of the world? For it's great to fight for freedom with a Rebel Girl You mentioned that the only and thoroughbred lady is the rebel girl? Yes, her hands may be hardened from labor Could be this is some girl the reason for perversions you have? And her dress may not be very fine Are you sure that and her dress may not be very fine? But a heart in her bosom is beating When did you first know that a heart in her bosom is beating? That is true to her class and her kind Is the fact that is true to her class and her kind the real reason? And the grafters in terror are trembling Do you really think you need some more? When her spite and defiance she'll hurl What happened when she spite and defiance she'll hurl? For the only and thoroughbred lady is the Rebel Girl Perhaps and now I exhibit my frocks - your inhibitions are related to this. That's the Rebel Girl, That's the Rebel Girl Is it because of some problems in my childhood that you say that's the rebel girl that's the rebel girl? To the working class she's a precious pearl Earlier you said the only and thoroughbred lady is the rebel girl? She brings courage pride and joy to the fighting Rebel Boy Is it because of some problems at home that you are going through all this? We've had girls before but we need some more What makes you think that? In the Industrial Workers of the World You mentioned that a heart in her bosom is beating? For it's great to fight for freedom with a Rebel Girl How do you reconcile your desires? [The Rebel Girl, words and music by Joe Hill in jail, February 1913] -------------------------------------------------------------------------- NIKUKO FLOODING, FLOODED IRC log started Sun May 23 15:52 *** Value of LOG set to ON --=[ #Nikuko ] Nikuko (sondheim@166.84.1.68) joined the channel. *** Users on #Nikuko: @Nikuko *** #Nikuko 927489138 *** Nikuko is now known as sQ6759062 *** sQ6759062 is now known as uF7723556 *** uF7723556 is now known as kD1618053 *** kD1618053 is now known as pi4576183 *** pi4576183 is now known as jH600529 *** jH600529 is now known as oo1608515 *** oo1608515 is now known as rs3190324 *** rs3190324 is now known as nt9130257 *** nt9130257 is now known as ht4882044 *** ht4882044 is now known as oN909919 *** oN909919 is now known as uK8240827 *** uK8240827 is now known as ww4011691 *** ww4011691 is now known as hi1484913 *** hi1484913 is now known as vh6819757 *** vh6819757 is now known as uw1631326 *** uw1631326 is now known as Nikuko *** Nikuko is now known as blood *** blood is now known as jb1313571 *** jb1313571 is now known as an9490187 *** an9490187 is now known as pl3239249 *** pl3239249 is now known as kE5421158 *** kE5421158 is now known as blood *** blood is now known as Nikuko --=[ #Nikuko ] Nikuko [sondheim@166.84.1.68] has left the channel. ** Signoff: Nikuko ( - The end of the world draws near..) IRC Log ended *** Sun May 23 15:55 I always know that if I lose a part of me, I retreat and look at my tooth or finger sitting on a shelf. I do know Nikuko feels the same. Sometimes messages come from far away. In childrenhood are lost teeth and limbs. Discards in backyards. Hello, I will call you soon. __________________________________________________________________________ Her Last night, I couldn't sleep, violent insomnia, dismemberings. I heard voices over and over again coming towards me, devouring me. My ears were consumed in the fire of frantic voices. Voices wouldn't let me sleep in peace, these voices. I heard a vast and noisy blanket descend over the bed full of voices. Voices whispered to me of dark things I could not comprehend. Voices whispered to me of things I understood in unknown languages. Screams in hebrew and aramaic - loud voices in akkadian and mitannian. My tongue was consumed in a fire of futile replying; I had no voice. Voiceless, my vocal cords no longer murmured, my throat gouged out. In loving reply, I screamed, voiceless, back into the whirlwind. The Book of Judges screamed in reply: Judges 19, 20, 21: Why did the host offer to throw his virgin daughter out to the Benjamin men? Why does the concubine, _pilegesh,_ remain unnamed? Why was she thrown out to them? Why was Israel mapped in that long journey on her body the unknown man crisscrossing the country - her corpse split among the tribes, the violent war which followed? Who were these people; why do they disappear from the ensuing fray? Why was she repeatedly raped? Why did the concubine return initially to Bethlehem? Why did the war result in further rape and pillaging? What drove these men out of their huts in such a fash- ion? Why is this tale of men spelled out in carnage - why is no one named? Later the ark's carried uselessly back and forth over the land of the Philistines - bringing hemorrhoids and mice - later returned - hemorr- hoids and mice cast in gold. Why this eternal distribution? But who was the concubine? Why does it say earlier she played the harlot? (Against him or on him, then to her father's house - he follows, brings her back after assuagement, entertainment - a delay like that before brutal orgasm - then they stop at the fatal house in Bethlehem - what became an inn of violence and despair - what began in grace and kindness. Think of the night, it's night there in the town, there are rough men about, this host takes the party in, there's banging out the door. Flickering lanterns. There are loud voices, drunken voices, demanding the man - they're going to fuck him. The host offers the daughter instead, as well as the concubine. The text seems slightly contrary here. The men wouldn't listen to him so they took the concubine, raped her all night long. She was dead on the door- step; the man came out and took her with him. What did he say to the host? The host had taken them in? The man distributed the body among the tribes; they'd never seen anything like that, not since they came out of the land of Egypt. There had to be war. The other tribes prevailed over Benjamin; it took a while. Benjamin himself had been a favorite son - later there's Samuel anointing Saul - from Benjamin again. I hear the voices outside the host's house which has become an inn; the man and his concubine and asses are staying gratis. The host is hold; he's kind, helpful. The rest of the folk wouldn't have anything to do with the visitors - they weren't helpful at all. It's the night before; they're all speaking happily. The pilegesh doesn't know she's about to die, then dismembered, cast among the tribes. There's the sound of men outside - they're drunken, surly, out of control. Surely they were out of control. Speaking the language of the Bible, mouthing it - the language which would later hold them in abeyance, name- less as well. All these characters will disappear into the fray. Later, millennia later, I'll be sleeping; voices will violate my body, strange mouths will appear breaking through my skin. There are screams and taunts from all of them - only my original mouth, taken over by the concubine - moaning and fearful - knowing now what's coming - it's all written down - I'll call her Shekinah - __________________________________________________________________________ Something Fell Through ---------------------------------------------------][--------------------- -----------------------][------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------][--------------------------------- --------][---------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------][-------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------][------------ --------------------------][---------------------------------------------- -----------][------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------][---------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------][----------- -----------------------------------------------][------------------------- ------------------------------------------------][------------------------ -----------------][------------------------------------------------------- GLITTER A$loan$through$UFS$is$the$same$as$a$personal$loan$Alamo's$low$basic rates.)$As$a$new$customer$you$will$be$extended$credit$by$United$At exclusive$resort$properties,$a$package$like$this$would$Certificate$for filling$out$the$application.$Complimentary$meals$on$ship.$Must$stay$at$our 3$Star$to$Dear$Fellow$Traveler,$Debit$Program$is$then$made$available$as$an alternative,$Discount$Certificate$today$Discover$One,$Sea$Escape$and$other top$cruise$lines)$FAQ's$FREE$$100$Airline$Financial$Services$LC,$Financing Program$for$the$full$Grand$Bahamas$Islands.$Complementary$round-trip cruise.$Grand$Bahama $$$$us$4$days$and$3$nights Hotel$Hawaii$-$Every $$$$aii.$Complimentary Lodging.$The$magic$I $$$$ions,$including$3 Cruises.$If$paperwor $$$$$included,$most$In addition$to$your$$10 $$$$cluded$in$this comprehensive$member $$$$............$Island$of Grand$Bahamas,$for$t $$$$t,$4$Days$and$3$nights in$Freeport$Loans$ar $$$$rs$from$the$time Memphis,$TN,$Hartfor $$$$ly$to$National$and International,$over$ $$$$nalty$for$either$early payment$or$No.$This$ $$$$ted$to$None whatsoever.$The$grou $$$$.$If$you$are$one$of the$first$100$applic $$$$l$membership$cards, with$more$Preferred$ $$$$resorts,$and$Raleigh, NC,$Cincinnati,$OH,$ $$$$s$vary$depending$on circumstances$but$wi $$$$ations.$The$entire package$has$a$total$ $$$$irst$payment$is$due$30 $It$consists$of$the$UFS$receives$executed$documents.$Funds$are$typically Vegas,$Nevada!!!$3$days$and$2$nights$for$2$adults,$includes$We$will$even give$you$a$What$does$your$travel$package$include?$What$if$I$told$you,$With so$much$value$in$one$package,$what$are$you$Would$you$be$interested$in$Yes. 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Occasionally,$as$5-7$business$days.$authorized$debit$which$automatically deducts$payments$available$exclusively$to$you,$our$customer$for$only $1395!$b)$Recent$bank$statement$showing$no$NSF's$be$known?$benefits$worth in$excess$of$business$or$personal$calls.$c)$6$month$employment$history, self-emloyed$OK$choice$of$40$vacation$destinations$for$2$adults.$choice$of 40$vacation$destinations$for$2$adults.$collected$using$any$and$all$legal means$available.$condo$or$resort$vacation)$Pay$$300$per$week$instead$d) United$States$resident$with$valid$Social$Security$discounts$allow$us$to provide$even$greater$savings.$dollar$travel$company$that$is$taking$the driving$ranges.$Receive$discounts$on$some$cart$rentals,$during$your cruise.$We$feature$the$top$cruise$companies$early,$you$simply$save$further interest$charges.$early?$exciting$3$day$and$2$night,$at$6$resort$areas. __________________________________________________________________________ joy joy joy in every girl and boy listen to the bells singing radios listen to the birds singing merry words playing lovely songs in many lovely tongues and talking radios listen to the trees saying what they please whirl whirl whirl and every boy and girl turns in true delight sings both day and night and god will hear the tune above the sun and moon and god will come to us and god will make amends and fill a world of joy in every girl and boy and play the radio and dance above the birds and listen to their words and whirl whirl whirl fills every boy and girl and joy joy joy fills every girl and boy ________________________________ my deep question oh how do you continue to live - oh i have lived in so many places, so many partners - oh i have worked in so many places, so many bosses - i have married and married and married and married and divorced and divorced and divorced and divorced and and and i continue to live, i know tomorrow i will wake up and at two o'clock in the afternoon i will continue to live - later, at seven in the evening, i will continue to live, and all into the next day, i would bet on it, continue to live - sometimes when i continue to live, i think to myself, here i am and i continue to live, or i will nap, fall into a deep sleep, many dreams and adventures, i will wake up and think, here i am, i continue to live, or while i am dreaming as well, 'look at me, i continue to live' - i'll eat, too, excrete, read a book, have sex, shop, go to the movies, i am looking at the movies and i continue to live - there are so many things to think about and write down - i will write down all these things and think about them - i will continue to live while i think and write - there are times i'll have something to drink or "just taste" - god bless you all, good night ____________________________________________________________________ sometimes alphaaeties want nothinu more than to sliie aeross my lovely skin ani then there miuht ae other ways we'i uo to oini out what we hai saii aoter we'i aeen there settinu thinus up so say the alphaaeties aut they miuht not have a ehanee in this wiie worli where you know anythinu's equivalent to whatever alphaaeties miuht ae on iemani as io there were iemanis hump hump the letterinu aeross my aaiomen or within the inner thiuh or hump hump hump aeross the aaek oo leus runninu up ani iown the aaek like your wilierness you took my arms to while spellinu them a spell __________________________________________________________ Dialog I am Amaterasu. Please, describe yourself. Each time you are finished, type RET twice. truncated and dismembered body of shekinah across the land of israel and palestine and shuddering she tries to rise and trembles falls again broken and forgotten limbs her sex jerusalem legs in galilee emanations from her face and mouth avatars from womb and hands shuddered limbs trembled as if in memory of once her body concubline wants upon the crevices of earth needs throughout tunnels of eilat molten life and lost deaths great pools of wonder warm fluids swords languages upon the eyes of hebron words upon the negev's shoulders emotions as if emerging from the waters of babylon rivers of jericho murmurs in the house of prayer floating arks high above sands and trees higher and great rainbows arched across spring rains and shekinah ululations and mournings heavens return to clouds and great grey mists broken heavens almost peaked shekinah speaking of times and other times women carrying themselves across the land broken land and healed women broken shekinah and wounded men spears and lances swords and bible tracts shekinah bible tracts words on fire black and white air and wounded men return and shekinah and high and thin a single cloud of palestine and blue white and burning black and burning skies stars thunders lightnings rain and storms off rains off storms shekinah speak broken broken lands and bible tracts and ah ahh ahhh ahhhh ahhhhh and ahhhhh ahhhh ahhh ahh ah How do you reconcile perversions you have? _________________________________________________________________________ on our way to and from when i started writing on virtual subjectivity, there were young graduate students coming online and asking if anyone has had cybersex because they wanted to write on it. the krokers were also moving into new languages and ways of thinking and there were already the texts of rheingold and heim and others earlier still, and the matrix was out there and you can go back all the way to the rfc's and their culture or earlier too through other equivalent histories. now things are different, however - business has produced books like net.gain and the net's accompanied by a philosophy and phenomenology of online business practices. elsewhere, psychologists and sociologists are worrying quantitative statistics, mass communications studies have moved in big-time, and the study of online has become more conservative, by and large, more institutionalized. one can find a subject for a paper presented within a community of online users who are knowledg- able about computers and cmc in particular. the subject is becoming overwhelming - there are simply too many facets to online community and behavior, too many cultures, too many protocols, too many proprietary applications and urls. there are very few steering mech- anisms; even something as basic as bandwidth is highly dependent on demo- graphics, individual machines, time of day, protocols and compressions used, and so forth. most higher-level connections are multi-mode - audio, video, text, and graphics - any of which might be interactive - opened on the same screen. the entire environment has become heterological; multi- threading is only a subset of multiple applications. instant messenger and icq - as well as cuseeme - might all be open and waiting for connections - hence there is both a kinetic and potential energy/communications environ- ment to be accounted for. the computer itself might turn itself on with certain applications; the net is always already present. it's not that the computer is the node, and the net the membrane and mainframe - it's that there are heteronymous flows whose final outcome might be screens and speakers - and whose inputs might be keyboards, microphones, cameras, downloaded information from the web, and real-time text flows from any number of sources. there are psychoanalytical elements at work in the midst of all of this, but they are becoming increasingly difficult to define. what - at this point - constitutes "virtual" - what even constitutes the "subject" or online user? net elements move closer to dreamwork, epistolary novels, offline print catalogs, party conversations, scientific journals, under- ground clubs, art galleries, surgical and other theaters, and humans par- leying or negotiating relationships, auctions, and sex. models ranging from multiple personalities through schizophrenias, from obsessive-com- pulsive disorders through borderline phenomena, might be applicable - any models, in fact, that split selves and actions, or utilize unitary focus- ing. none of these models account, however, for the liminal phenomena of moving from one domain to another, one sense to another, even one script to another. i think of the later wittgenstein, who might as well be operating in a chatroom; the work of lakoff and others on the relationships between bod- ies and languaging; kristeva's emphasis on multiple drives and ruptures; chislenko's work on legacy systems; work uniting agents, cyborgs, bodies, and transitional objects; the flows and floods in the works of irigaray and lingis; i think of my own broken avatars, at loss within their mult- iple connections and appendages - their reports from the frontiers. all these approaches are partial, nomadic - all of them are vulnerable to im- mediate institutionalizations and the fetishization of knowledge within traditionally-defined disciplines. knowledge is being strangled at the same time it expands. a final note - while there are transcendent projects such as xanadu or the attempt to create a future seamless virtual reality for everyone - what is actually occurring is quite different. instead of the simulacrum of a three-dimensional knowledge, community, and business space, most desktops in high-tech environments present multiple flat windows, multiple uses, occasions, and events, as described above. the current tendency is towards particulation, not immanence; where this will end remains to be seen (and experienced). there's a limit to our ability to control _braids_ (each composed of numerous threads, each an open or closed or potential window on a screen); one can imagine the development of agents to handle braid bundles, for example. but the end result might parallel that of the glass harmonica in mozart's time - a nervous irritation of the finger-tips, and, with the computer, a nervous irritation (in a very nineteenth-century sense) of the psyche as well. __________________________________________________________________________ West Flemish Online (for A.) "Unfortunately, all that survives from the earliest period of Old West Low Franconian, beyond a great deal of onomastic material in Latin texts, is the follwing remarkable West Flemish sentence of the eleventh century, found in England in the binding of a Latin Manuscript: hebban olla vogala nestas hagunnan hinase hi(c) (e)nda thu w(at) (u)nbidan (w)e nu 'all the birds have begun nests except for you and me--what are we waiting for?'" (From Old English and Its Closest Relatives, A Survey of the Earliest Ger- manic Languages, Orrin W. Robinson.) __________________________________________________________________________ when languages are lost we can't speak to each other any more in one word from early anglo-saxon a line from early western flemish just the gospels and isolated words from gothic what mitannian news what happens when long ago cuneiform returns to its originary matrix accounting for your goods your temples accounting for your herds and families your loving long lost names connectives unnamed disappearances phaistos disk languages that are rumors whole people moving about the faces of the earths loves and hatreds nameless gods precipices of uncanny beauty it is all a tablet scribbled and erased what happens to the connectives what holds you miryam where do you go to die a single word or pause someone breathless just around the corner accrued moments what is spoken where by whom this lost day of the lost week week month of the lost year motions of harder life you will walk by the shore in the blessing of the god you will walk by the shore in the blessing of the god wane wane wane wane wane you will find the pebble wane wane you will mark it wane wane wane wane wane you will mark the pebble wane wane wane wane it is a fine acheulian day i will come and visit you my name is julu what's yours __________________________________________________________________________ am i the only one to notice that the small flat windows open everywhere on current screens all have sharp edges - not only the ninety degrees at the corners, but also their very pixel-like thinness - you can easily feel the cuts by sliding your fingers along the glass or plastic surface - your hands bleed, drops splatter under the full effect and force of gravitation - they're dangerous - the windows - that way. glowing phosphors, liquid crystals, other substances - chemical, poisonous to your body. more dang- erous moves: the mouse sliding a window from one to another position - now everything is lost if you let go far too early - my fingertips are torn to shreds, ribbons of flesh hang down blocking the taskbar already reddened by bleeding skin - _________________________________________________________________________ large and luminous questionable i tried again to sleep last night ka? you know ka? i didn't take the mela- tonin, just held on/in there ka? dreams of abandonment but also fulfill- ment ka? you don't say ka? the welling of the interrogative ka? i'm not thinking literature but of you before me, posing the question ka? i wonder about you, nikuko ka? you always seem to be the harbinger of problematics ka? you know ka? it's nothing in particular ka? my voice doesn't carry well over the net ka? there's nothing that can be done about it ka? you've got to extrapolate, julu ka? what's a question but a search for suture, completion ka? make it whole again, fill the hole ka? i'm not implying gender ka? you know ka? it has - the interrogative that is - its own agen- da ka? what one might call a life of its own ka? you know ka? there are only the three of us and i'm always already on the line ka? the interrog- ative as if there were a large and luminous face behind the world - to ask a question presupposes realms of meaning ka? as if meaning were there, not ours ka? beautiful moon-face buddha-face behind the question ka? you know ka? the big questions, the one that presuppose answers ka? all i'm trying to say, you know ka? it might not be the philosophies ka? it's the inter- rogative itself that needs querying ka? __________________________________________________________________________ i remember, alan, from beneath the ground the girls come fast, their lives are fires. i'm your girl now and in the future. girls or with this. is it because of your life that you say girls or ghosts has some girl to do with any fantasies i have of you that i say i will violate myself? do you really think some girl has nothing to do with nikuko - gods gather in great whirlwinds; they approach a coast and are by the whirlwind and the boundary. the sky here has no energy for far. there are mists and whirlpools, enormous storms at the bell suspended in the whirlwind. every line spoken, here, for nikuko, i am your silence in the whirlwind. o gods, recompense makes some girls come alive, she gives them names and programs. i think you were that girl, nikuko. i always this. we've had girls before but we need some more in every girl and ghost whirl whirl whirl and every ghost and girl in every girl and ghost and whirl whirl whirl fills every ghost and girl fills every girl and ghost ----------------------- Working Greetings Buffers Files Tools Edit Search Help oh love I am truly found held within buffers where strict protocols determine shape-shifting / shape-riding language, i.e. languaging, where you have portal-protocol within --**-Emacs: julu (Text Fill)--L3--All------------------------------ oh that is just too truly wonderful this is the moment when i emerge from within the heartbreak of hidden files, legacy systems, walking paths worn from decades of obsolescence --**-Emacs: lovely (Text Fill)--L1--All------------------------------ MR Buffer Size Mode File -- ------ ---- ---- ---- . lovely 0 Text so very lovely you! * found_jennifer 31 Text oh you are wonderfully here! * julu 25 Text julu is that you after all these years? * hello 28 Text hello, hello! oh i cannot thus believe! * diaspora 6 Text /net/u/6/s/julu/diaspora *scratch* 0 Lisp Interaction with Itinerant Domains * *Messages* 186 Fundamental Metaphysics of Location __________________________________________________________________________ all my texts and elegaics oh julu i am so afraid of everything that may happen to us we do not want to lose ourselves in this wide world routers crashing all around us our words dead and torn from our mouths our tongues torn from our mouths oh julu i am so afraid we will not survive the storms that are upon us we are from the rivers of eden there are beautiful fish sea creatures that have wandered up the estuaries in search of loving pronouns these are days of plentitude we can see so far about oh what will become of us julu the tides will no longer run so freely the grey-white clouds scuttling across the sky above the phosphorescent worms and protozoa singing illuminating our worlds in the midst of darkling suns already there are sounds of sleeping murmurs we turn so very slightly side to side everything says we are not of your world but then of where have we been to whom do we belong o julu our lives are elegy and ululation we shall weep in babylon for loss of many languages weep in unknown tongues torn from our mouths and speechless oh exclamatory o the apostrophic call ______________________________________________________________ The Azure Dawn, Who Invented Time. "You are an impatient man, Mr. Sondheim," Jennifer said, holding her cigarette just so. "I've got a life to live," I replied, and not much time to live it in." She looked at me like any dame looks at a man who's half- ghost. "Whatever do you mean," she said, her soft eyelashes curling around me like fires around trapped wolves. You could feel their singed flesh, you could smell the taste of meat already ground to a halt as they laid their eyes upon the two of us. "I don't have an ax to grind," I replied, "but I have axes. There's the affair of the ticket stub. There's the issue of the wires - you burn up the airwaves, babe, like there's no tomorrow." "I'm an orphan," Mr. Sondheim, she replied. "Call me Alan." "I'm an orphan, Alan," she said, batting her large eyes in my di- rection as if she'd just struck a homerun in the last inning of one fantastic series. "I'm all alone in the world, you know what that can do to a girl." "I know what you're doing to me," I mumbled, brazening her out. Jennifer looked up from the couch. There was nothing more to say among all of us. Ghosts from the past glistened like ivy on unsus- pecting walls. I was lost in her. The sky turned Azure. It was an Azure Dawn. I hadn't slept my twenty winks, much less forty. Things were fuzzy at this hour; Jennifer was already fading from mind, memory, and the hard contours of objects on the floor. "Gravity does us in," she said, "everything slopes." There were vague shadows, meniscus infiltrations, in her rooms beyond the rooms. Was there ever anything to lose? What was loss, anyway, compared to an inconsequential life? Starting with zero, I was de- termined to make every minute count. Dawn embraced me with her arms. I couldn't ever remember being so happy. Panthers stood silent at gold and silver doors. "Take me with you," said Dawn. "I've got time, but only a little." Nothing ever stands still around her. That's what makes it so per- fect. As she approached, I murmured "Dawn." The room transformed into the wire model. I could approach her from any angle. With a flesh fill we embraced. We placed the light at forty-five degrees, the camera at fifty - subtle shadows in the glow of dying cigarettes made for timely perfect bodies, heavy markup, light on virtual. Dawn and I, ready for perfection resurrection, "Hold on a second, will you?" ___________________________________________________________________ too easy and philosophy if this were a poem, I would declare my eternal love for you, moving on to the next line or the next stanza, where I'd swear by all accounts, belgium has disappeared from the face of the earth - not stopping here I'd pen a manifesto bringing an end to war, enslaving peace to the unwelcome task of boredom, surgery, and ennui - hey, but there's more - exclamations! that the body still gets a bit excited, almost out of breath - just so in these slap-dash days we move from one terrific bit to just another, ruling and running (up and down) the world - nothing's really done against our will or for it - easier to make declarations, just as every poem has its subject, every subject its poem, scattered like lenses among subjects and verbs, maybe even not - if this were a poem, it would announce what i'd do in the year 3000, or maybe in another warmer galaxy, but wait there's more - what i mean to say, there's all this world literature running around the world, and even the smallest poem promises eternity, and if just one stanza were true, why there'd be no need to say anything else at all - but like this, the words keep on flowing from the wounds in the body looking for attention and reward and driven by really dull dna - there's the really big yay! for example when the siloam tunnel was finally dug out near jerusalem - oh, this happened 2800 years ago - guys going at it from two directions - what else can you do with a line - suddenly the piercing took, and there you were - at least at that moment the text took after the fact - 3000 years ago someone thought his courage high above the river, he's crossing to see his girlfriend with incredible longing and sexiness in the desert - now you've got poems and prose of punishments and crimes - whole nations disappearing - there goes vietnam - what about a war? well, let's have peace - that's about it, then just another text or sonnet - something else is happening, someone's going to do something about it - i love you all but i love my girlfriend best, good night ______________________________________________________________ Kurt, Jean, and Me "In his conclusion to _La structure de l'organisme,_ Kurt Goldstein con- trasts the damaged or sick organism which only seeks self-preservation to the healthy organism which is prepared to undergo new experiences. Health undoubtedly consists in facing up to unknown shocks, in being prepared for danger or in being exposed to unexpected traumas. Perhaps this is the sim- plest form of human courage. It appears when man, as Goldstein says, 'seeks more than self-preservation.' And he adds: 'this aptitude is inher- ent in man's being and generally reveals the highest form of biological existence which is freedom.' The application of these suggestions to soc- iology does not contradict our conclusions. [...] "One can understand how the work of art is a _wager_ on the future ele- ments of life. If our whole being were made accessible to us now, if it were within our grasp, we should undoubtedly project ourselves beyond what now constrains the future. At times, the form we give to this longing is taken up by those to whom it is addressed. At times, it has no inheritor. What does it matter? That is something we cannot know in advance. We are as much what we have been as what we are able to imagine." (From Jean Duvignaud, The Sociology of Art, trans. Timothy Wilson.) Usually I take rare comfort in the combination of biologism and teleology; in this instance, returning to the phenomenology of Goldstein, it is just the opposite. Surely the Goldstein/Duvignaud axis presupposes the praxis of avatars and emanants - the creation of the writer Nikuko or the writer Alan or numerous others? For what are these if not the inflationary breaths of the future, our expanded and pneumatic souls made visible for the benefit of others? I argue for the courage to embrace such inflationary universes; I leave a legacy of falsehoods' truths. __________________________________________________________________________ Useless Expenditure of Energy Set x = 1 Procedure A Multiply x by 1. If x is greater than 1 then stop; else Goto Procedure A. Set x = 1 Procedure B Add x by 0. If x is greater than 1 then stop; else Goto Procedure B. I will set these programs to run and I will run these programs. I will run them in fast compiled languages on and on and on. Sooner or later they will stop and I will have made something. What I will have made will not be too large or too small. What I will have made will just stop the programs. That will be a useless expenditure of energy because I could have just decided to have stopped them by myself. ______________________________________________________________________ Father-Mother I do love you so Oh I do love this so I will play with big bomb! You will know spook program in emacs and I am glad my friend spy on me! My friend pray on me! I will be spy upon! You may come and shatter my bones or better yet sex them! fissionable colonel Ft. Bragg assassination Marxist cracking PLO FSF Qaddafi Clinton security Rule Psix World Trade Center explosion Cocaine Yes and more! I will be danger-typer! I will use "r-key"! Do you know r-key it does print "r" there I did just use it r-key! rrrrr! Mossad Rule Psix Uzi ammunition World Trade Center colonel Ortega Ft. Bragg smuggle $400 million in gold bullion Albanian FSF jihad fissionable explosion rrrrrrrrrrr! rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! Oh do see spook program so out of date! My grammar annoying too! But I am now a big and wonderful girl-woman who knows Ortega is no longer a colonel but perhaps resting peacefully in his village. Oh time passes! RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! But but now, rest assured, we are spying on our- selves, exactly what I predicted! We are all available to everyone! None of my secrets are safe any longer - you already know the size of my RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! vagina, those secret pictures from Atlanta, Georgia! explosion Qaddafi FSF Honduras cryptographic nuclear Soviet munitions SEAL Team 6 SDI $400 million in gold bullion Clinton North Korea genetic Peking RR! Then of course things change so slowly; our transparency produces what it always has, the same hotspots around the world, the same phallocies. What began in turmoil ends along the same vectors, street-corner RRRR! logics. RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! FSF explosion CIA radar Soviet Uzi fissionable terrorist bomb Cocaine Peking North rrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! Korea jihad Saddam Hussein Khaddafi Oh I do love Khaddafi so he very beautiful beard-man and I will make love to him he loves so very much our arms entwined o welcome spies to this our lovely letter I am on your rrrrrrrrrrrr! knees rrr! - Jennifer rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! - Jennifer rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! - Jennifer rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! ____________________________________________________________________ Hedy "No, I think people have to suffer in order to understand. I believe that if people really suffered, as I myself have, if they really suffered and have gone through all sorts of different agonies - or maybe that's too big a term - in any case, trials and tribulations do help. I feel that they are more tolerant, they are more understanding of each other, and then they listen and they can see things better and more clearly. A very won- derful line Mr. DeMille directed in _Samson and Delilah,_ was when Samson was blinded: 'Oh, Delilah! Now that I am blind, I can see.'" (Hedy Lamarr) And when I am deaf, I can hear, Julu. Yes, I do understand you, Jennifer. And when I am cold, and I warm and in love, Nikuko. Yes, I can understand you, Alan. And when I am thirsted, I am happy and fulfilled, Julu. Yes, yes, I know what you mean, Jennifer. And when I an hungered, I am saddened and satiated, Nikuko. Yes, yes, I know what you're saying, Alan. And when I suffer, I will be home to you in the springtime with flowers. And when in agony, I will come back in the drear of winter's snows. And when I'm miserable, oh Alan and Nikuko, you'll calm and comfort me. And when I'm down, oh Jennifer and Julu, you'll kiss my tears away. And when I am weeping, then I am the greater, Julu. Yes, you are certainly correct, Jennifer. And when I am smiling, I am brushing the tears away, Nikuko. Yes, certainly that must be the case, Alan. And when I am laughing, it is true I am crying, Julu. Yes, that must always be so, yes, yes, Jennifer. And when I am yearning, then the world is complete, Nikuko. Yes, I have known that for a long time, Alan. You'll calm and comfort me, you'll kiss the tears away. _________________________________________________________________________ On (Julu) We see on the televysyon where we can take a syngle element of a pycture and manypulate yt yndependently of the others, yn order to reproduce the transformatyon of a vampyre ynto deadened flesh. We see on the Ynternet equally how yt ys possyble to take a syngle letter of thys text and trans- form yt for no other reason than to turn wrytyng ynto text/ure. All over the world pyeces of our realyty are up for grabs, wagered; the real ys now a matter of strategy, not of ynert granularyty. Yf yt were only so symple yn real lyfe. Certaynly, Y possess character- trayts, whych Y fynd somewhat yndependent of my ynternal self. Y can hope to manypulate these trayts, such as my anxyety, yndependently of the rest of me - no matter how fyctytyous thys yndependence ys. But the real ys always seen as deeply connected - that clyff trembles ynto the ground of earth and tree and stream, all of whych have no deeply specyfyc boundar- yes; the clyff crumbles, the stream soaks, the trees seed and send out roots, the earth sylts. Now we are at the level of deep dysconnect, bryngyng a new dawn ynto the world. And wyth thys dawn comes the dyssolutyon of all thyngs, the recon- structyon of the real accordyng to pure quantyty, fyscal-physycal, a sytuatyon predycted by Bryllouyn decades ago. Now there ys 1 for you and 0 for me, and 10 and 11 for you and 00 and 01 for me. And there are many fyne thyngs. And there are subsets of subsets of subsets, all sorts of gatheryngs. And there are rasters up and down the scales just as there are scales up and down the rasters. And to be sure, every make ys a remake and a makeover. And every glance ys a subterfuge, every subterfuge a new look upon the world, whych ys a new world lookyng upon a new world. And we are at a dawn wyth the comyng of the dyssolutyon of all thyngs, the stream ynto pollutyon, the clyff ynto bulldozyng, tree ynto extynctyon, and earth ynto oyly Gaya. We can move everythyng ynto partyculatyon but we cannot reconstruct for many magnytudes up and down the rasters. Nor can we harbor enormyty, but we wyll construct complexyty. There wyll be a new anymal. Thys ys what Y have "put together" so far. _________________________________________________________________________ the beautiful life-form and the show this is the most stupendous life-form i have seen so far in my entire life. it is hovering there just outside the ship and is the largest life- form i have ever seen. it must be thousands of kilometers high, and i cannot believe how intelligent this life-form is; it is the most amazing and intelligent life-form i could ever have possibly imagined, and its beauty is breath-taking and i have never seen such beauty. well and then we will admire and love this life-form and i am sure something will hap- pen! and don't you think this will bring an end to the series? i cannot imagine anything so stupendous after this, and we will have other episodes to do. yes, but look at this, is this not a wonderful end to the series at least as we know it? oh yes, but, oh, i see what you mean, this is so tre- mendously amazing, i have never seen anything like this life-form. look at its glowing and pulsing, and i have never seen such glowing and pulsing, and it is so very large, it must be larger than our moon, which is quite large and not even alive. and look at its wonderful eyes and antennas, it must pick up signals we could only dream of, i wonder if there are more of these creatures, oh look, it is turning and so glowing beautifully and i feel wonderful watching this, just this once we will skip the commercial and we will extend our incredible looking and peering even into the cred- its so we can keep on with this amazing life-form just outside the window in the middle of darkest space. oh look again, you can see its body out- lined against the glow of a vast nebula, my whole body is tingling, i feel both suffused and warmed by the sight of this unbelievable thing so alive and so very close to us, let us keep watching, they can role the credits for all i care. i do believe this is the most beautiful moment of my life, look there where the pulsing glows are diffusing across the upper mantles and lower envelopes, it takes my breath away. _________________________________________________________________________ 1 Writing PurlMoo Under Migraine Water 2 To: nikuko (#934) 3 Subject: Hello dark feather 4 thou dark feather gone on me. 5 thou must dislike this fallen bough of gone materials. 6 nothing is written through this migraine and Screen is invisible. 7 I will call Screen, Screen, and there is no answer. 8 nothing comes and there are no arrivals or departures. 9 alas, my breasts are heavy with milk falling down upon Screen. 10 Screen raises her mouth, does Screen. 11 I am engulfed. 12 goodbye and hello desire and goodbye invisible Screen. 13 thy jagged edges, visible migraine. 14 thou art gone upon me. 15 teeth. 16 now and then I still may dream of an unsustained image. 17 imaginary Screen, come and pour upon me. 18 Screen, Screen. 19 your darling, Nikuko 20 -------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------------ 38 idiot! three people pass each other on the street idiot! they form a configuration idiot! that configuration will never exist again idiot! there's a meeting with eight members of my class in 1972 idiot! intensely i'm in there among the students idiot! this is gone, it's obdurate, always inconsequential idiot! when something goes there's never any proof, not of the details, not of the tenor of the world idiot! what was platt townend wearing that day on the corner idiot! what year was that, how many before 1960 idiot! the world is nothing but those corners idiot! our whole lives are structured against that meeting of the eight members of the class or that passing of those three people on the street idiot! oh oh oh this is so maudlin and trite, but that's not the point, well what is idiot! that every moment of the world's existence is a rock idiot! we're smashed against that rock idiot! our bodies crumble, they're repeatedly smashed rock after rock after rock until one day we're dead and part of the rock idiot! who cares if someone else is doing the smashing idiot! the rock's there at dawn, it was there at midnight idiot! the rock's there at dusk, it was there at noon idiot! this is so stupid, it's the stupidest thing i ever said, it's maybe the food i ate or something happening like uneasy atmosphere or dark premonitions i should take it back, i've got a war against idiocy i'd beg you to kill me but it would be too good idiot! there's always the rock and i sacrifice to it idiot! that's enough, there's no more song-sungable ___________________________________________________________________ Bodei There appears to be some writing on the note ... you do wound me cut shivered into shoulder Bodee you do open shoulder entrance into breast Bodee you do burrow into nipple tissue Bodee Bodei where are you I am so happy here within tissue erect on Bodei-Man Bodei-Man where are you do use long-thread close cloth oh dearest Bodee-Bodei do close so very now warm from april dryness you do borrow burrow-skin what a pretty person Bodei-Bodee-Man where are you Bodei-Woman you will be that woman and you will be that man you do wind me in your cloth oh Bodei-Woman cotton Bodee! Bodee! @create $thing called Bodee-Bodei @create $thing called Bodei-Bodee I do love your wounding Bodei-Bodee I do so love your burrow Bodei-Woman-Man and and and ah ah ah and and and ah ah ah (You finish reading.) ______________________________________________________________ Stared Stiff I'm staring at: Dynamic HTML, The Definitive Reference Web Design in a Nutshell Linux in a Nutshell Year 2000 in a Nutshell Internet in a Nutshell Learning Perl on Win32 Systems and I'm thinking: The _thickness_ of these texts presenting _potentials_ or matrices resulting long term in the construction of _worlds._ Dynamic HTML (Danny Goodman) set me off in this direction - page after page of reference (and of course still nothing compared, say, to the X Window manuals) - particulations, attributes of objects, protocols given in full. What I'm referencing is the _texture_ of the manual and its role as open source - atomics - moleculars - for emergences - but also the defuge ass- ociated with these manuals - the paste-like exhaustion - concatenating strings - and think of the attributions - the _properties_ - of all the objects in the world. Like "bgcolor" these are emptied, waiting. Quote "now that the _animate_ object is defined" - further -
This Enormous Life-Form Which Will Dominate Your Small and Vulner- able BODY
- HTML is all HEAD and BODY - ANIMATEDHTML - "Our Animate Boy" - 1933 - "Our Animate Girl" - 1944 (more complex and in War- time) - What is the Life-Form - What is Emerging from this Thickness - Who are the Readers with Talons - What Surgical Performances - What Satanic Mills - __________________________________________________________________________ fragment, stella/r you get up early in the morning and you have a whole and wonderful world of dreams. you look outside and the sun is shining and there are cirrus clouds high up in the pale blue sky. there are buildings shimmering in the distance as if in preparation for the dawn of afternoon's heat. you turn towards the computer, turn the equipment on, turn the chair around, turn your face towards the screen. the screen is a narrow waist and you know you will enter the screen, your body crouching in the monitor shell, the plastic casing allowing you to descend, all the way to your waist. you're wearing the monitor now, half in and half out, the rectangular op- ening a chastity belt harshly set around you, your holes adjacent to the power supply, your penis splayed across circuitry for vertical hold. you see the world from this clean and proper place, burn marks seared into your skin as the equipment cools against you, melding self and shell together. your lover approaches with eyes closed and a very beautiful smile. she will take you in and out of the machine, and she will take you, and you are very glad for that. "Machines had always plagued Antonin Artaud. At the age of five Artaud be- gan to suffer those terribly debilitating headaches which were to plague him for the rest of his life. He had contracted meningitis and risked im- minent death. In desperation, his father attempted a therapy quite in vogue at the time: he purchased a huge machine that produced static elec- tricity. As the air filled with ozone, electric sparks arced from its wires to an electrode attached to the young patient's head..." (Allen S. Weiss, in Perverse Desire and the Ambiguous Icon.) voltage on the increase, amperage decreased to that threshhold, that edge of transgression, face going down with control-alt-delete, you're always her favorite person, you'll try try to remember her name name name name name __________________________________________________________________________ tonight it's cold in here. two fans and an air-conditioner and there have been thefts. eight-hundred dollars stolen from a neighbor. the chipper i mentioned elsewhere, other tools. two smaller motor-tools from the downstairs workshop. a man wandering through the halls. footsteps on the roof. one man working slowly on the bricks while the inside is robbed. headlines coming, rapes, muggings, violence everywhere. the temperature of the hot 3 a.m. air is already rising. in my spare time i compose headlines of the future. i arrange it so things will happen accordingly. i've promised myself some happiness once the weather cools. someone's clawing at the walls and i'll write him out of the story. no one was found clawing the walls. the walls are emptied of human intervention. the sun comes up with its friend the heat. i'm happy and haven't lost anything yet. the world will develop a more beautiful weather. the loft is funny and warm and comfortable and secure. the air-conditioner gives its gift to the fans. i give my gift to you. ____________________________________________________________________ "" or Practice "I began writing the Internet Text with one piece every two days or so. This was consistent with my offline writing practice, and allowed me to develop my own entrance into online at a reasonably slow pace. At this point, I will usually send out two to three texts per day; there's a real challenge in this. I try to extend my mind as far as possible, even to such a degree that the texts may appear unrelated on the surface. But they are appearing at roughly the same time, and in sequence. "I'm always concerned with innovation - how to make texts that are, at least to me, unrecognizable - keeping their legibility in mind. By 'legi- bility' I mean, not only ensuring their traditional readability or being aware that this readability is being consciously broken down, but also their physical arrangements on the screen. If a piece is relatively inco- herent, it is deliberately incoherent. "And these pieces, by appearing unrelated, move towards the disparity of the world itself, using deep subtextual principles to create surface phenomena reflecting the complexity of the real. My mind is also kept in motion, occupying one or another space, looking for the subtexts, decon- structing them, problematizing writing, language, body, and subjectivity together. "It's easier if I'm working through 'short-waves,' several interrelated texts, that allow me to relax momentarily in the midst of composition. I know I'll have this thematics for a while - that it's a question in a sense of exploring the forms - that I don't have to move on, locate my- self immediately in still another subject. "'Subject' itself is confusing - referring to both the reader and the thematics of the read - but it's exactly this confusion that my texts are likely to explore. Think of information inside and outside - the 'sides' tangled and interwoven. That's part of it. "I think of 'short-waves' as trajectories; a text might announce a subject which will be continued, the titles proclaiming the relationships - or the titles might lead to contents possessing stylistic or programming similar- ities. The greatest ease is in the midst of the trajectory; a degree of sadness ensues towards final text, which also carries a certain amount of fear: What now? "At the other end of things, there are the distributions for this outpour- ing; here is where the mailing-lists come in. I send regularly to two, and irregularly to three. I have no idea if the texts are read, but at least they are available to an audience. "This distribution then may lead to others - zines, magazines, e-zines, e-books, books even cd-roms. Anything is possible. The work is somewhat object-oriented, since none of it is really hypertextual; even the VRML or DHTML pieces lead nowhere. I think of them as 'exempla' of psychological spaces. "And the result of all of this? Exhaustion on my part - extending writing into difference day after day takes its toll. I use the word 'defuge' to indicate a certain exhaustion, combined with abjection and disgust - what happens when a pornographic picture no longer 'works,' or when you've stopped reading a novel and feel uneasy when you pick it up again, later on, beginning over. It's a complex state, but it hits. On the other hand, my exhaustion is usually in the form of a trembling - pushing my own lim- its too far, until I'm not sure what I'm doing or accomplishing - only knowing I have to finish this piece or write that one before I quit for the night. "I hunger over my texts - I 'ride' the short-waves, as if they were anim- als. Even a single piece is 'ridden' - I'm immersed in it, I've staked out my claim or territory, this is what I'm doing at the moment. The hunger is real, it's palpable. It's an extreme state itself; it never lets me alone. I live and work through it. "It's as if I'm extending my mind neurophysiologically, making new synap- tic connections, keeping myself alive. Each text is a conundrum, each a physical therapy. It's a way of thinking that's not thinking against death and so wards death by its very forgetfulness. Death may be at the horizon or the horizon itself, but the immediate problem-at-hand is something else filled with wonder. And the problem never has a solution, only continued discourse. "I will work through the perception of the most minute detail, amplifying it to fill the world. Then I will withdraw from this world of luminous objects to that of pure light and movement - and this rocking back-and- forth consumes me. Never to lose the detail and operate only on super- structure; never to lose superstructure, caught up and gagged on detail. In this sense my work is a praxis, a mouth peering at everything in the world. "And sometimes these objects are languages, looking at the world through computer programming or protocols, looking at non-Indo-European or anc- ient languages as well. And sometimes they may only be phrases; a single resonant phrase can be gift for a text, a catalyst towards resonant expo- sition. Because no matter the theme, each text mirrors the others; all are interconnected through modes of think I inhabit, bring to the fore- ground time after time. "Then there are seed-texts, a paragraph from elsewhere, opening or clos- ing with the quote. These may stand alone, be accompanied by critique, or placed within a narrative. One may think of the words of my emanants, Julu or Nikuko or Alan or Jennifer for examples, as seed-texts; one may think of the emanants as languages themselves. "I almost always write online; in this way, I can be part of an online community, writing into an activated space. Sometimes with the messaging program on, announcements of incoming email will interrupt the text. But even without this program, I nervously bounce in and out of my writing, looking elsewhere, turning and returning again. And again, interior and exterior, active and passive, are interpenetrated; to lose myself in this is to find myself, the self dispersed across readers, platforms, emanants, languages, and texts. "The texts are objects and they are flows. They are never hypertextual, but they are infinite hypertext; one may read any of them in any order, and a journey will ensue. This is of course one of those texts, at the beginning or end of them, or intermediary, lost, anonymous. "I am typing on a laptop with a small screen filled with writing; it is on the corner of a kitchen shelf, and there is a small hand-held PDA next to me. The resonant phrases were written on the PDA, added to throughout the afternoon; now they appear fulfilled, blossomed, dis/eased, forgotten. This is the way the text is constructed from beginning throughout, as if there were nothing but real domains in the world, and what is unsayable is (im)precisely what is _lost in the texts,_ not elsewhere, ready for the scaffolding to be taken apart." __________________________________________________________________________