mimesis toned
mimesis tonedmakes water patently unsafe unsat until the gilding wafer chills hosanna perks if I were eternal and you were the gravy as if (only) and and andwatch me mom watch me watch the water rhymes hydroponically the jet the fuel oil the integra parked poolside promise me you'll neverand I'll elbow my way out of within earshot while you safe your way . . . these premises are draining me of rain and matchstick piercingslo mein goes my stash of pinking shears loquacity brings on cemented sugar and the implants drown their place known purelyas a segue and a sugared shoulder to refrain from while my darling leaflet's spun to feast upon the elderberry something all noonvortex while a person points a camera at the reddest rock in human agitation pacting with the promptsat homeamongimpromptu estrangements where the body dims the mind light inan electedsort of waywardness complete with chisel and despairsheila e. murphy
2C-sphanx with terminal slouch
gsv hvxklw xknrlt gfilrlt zlw gfilrlt rl gsv drwvlrlt tbiv gsv uzoxkl xzllkg svzi gsv uzoxklvi; gsrlth uzoo zjzig; gsv xvlgiv xzllkg skow; nviv zlzixsb rh okkhvw fjkl gsv dkiow, gsv yokkwewrnnvw grwv rh okkhvw, zlw vevibdsviv gsv xvivnklb ku rllkxvlxv rh wikdlvw; gsv yvhg ozxp zoo xklerxgrkl, dsrov gsv dkihg ziv ufoo ku jzhhrklzgv rlgvlhrgb. hfivob hknv ivevozgrkl rh zg szlw; hfivob gsv hvxklw xknrlt rh zg szlw. gsv hvxklw xknrltn sziwob ziv gskhv dkiwh kfg dsvl z ezhg rnztv kfg ku hjrirgfh nflwr gikfyovh nb hrtsg; hknvdsviv rl hzlwh ku gsv wvhvig z hszjv drgs orkl ykwb zlw gsv svzw ku z nzl, z tzav yozlp zlw jrgrovhh zh gsv hfl, rh nkerlt rgh hokd gsrtsh, dsrov zoo zykfg rg ivvo hszwkdh ku rlwrtlzlg wvhvig yriwh. gsv wziplvhh wikjh ztzrl; yfg lkd r plkd gszg gdvlgb xvlgfirvh ku hgklb hovvj dviv evcvw gk lrtsgnziv yb z ikxprlt xizwov, zlw dszg ikfts yvzhg, rgh skfi xknv ikflw zg ozhg, hokfxsvh gkdziwh yvgsovsvn gk yv ykil?
all we gonna do
Say it so I will not go sound goes off the edge of the rocket into the reaches of sky it meant we'd love some new president Eroding around here feel inclined to blow my mind The different cliffs off of which we fall seem similar to any sorting of trouble I hope no one hangs around one more little song is all we gonna do Saints alive you're saying Walk in squares It's a long way down including probable cause and supposing you are down? Who goes that way without relief? August pairings of words become natural resilience in the face of language Perhaps a verb will illustrate the motion of this fall We were not ready to travel sand bars today which just goes to show you The hid are out out for the year It's a lot of face A lot of crank air Get hung up feed the ducks with a bun this is called the farewell song written by sam Get over there man alright ok They all come out to groove about Being nice and having fun in the sun Practical like stayed back when the wind roughed up the plenitude staying put turn the lights off carry me home hey uh I think the iron butterfly’s on next Keep your head still I'll be your thrill the night will go on my little red mill You'll be at my show all we gonna do
vintage blue
AHB: I suspect that every text in an unknown alphabet is a poem. In ibThe Pound Era/b/i Kenner points out a passage in Shakespeare that gets misinterpreted nowadays because people aren't aware that the term igolden boys/i refers to dandelions (don't make me hunt out the book, just trust me). I don't know how a foreign Billy Collins would look to me compared to a foreign Clark Coolidge. Presumably stanzaic poetry is still stanzaic in Cyrillic.I think the reading of such texts would free the texts of meaning. Unless the reader was wicked good at code-breaking, and detect the patterns in this unknown alphabet, the reader could make whatever out of the written shapes. I don't know if we're to credit Gaudier-Brzeska's ability to read ideograms with no prior knowledge. It sound nice. Maybe he was just riffing. Your questions really just put me back on my heels. Translations very often leave me dissatisfied. I'd rather read Pound's Chinese translations, which he wasn't shy abut changing for his own purposes, than the perhaps more scholarly, but dry, Arthur Waley ones. And I don't like the ones Amy Lowell was involved with, garnished with flowers. I think my point is that the translation should be poetic, and likewise the readers reading of an unknown alphabet. Poetic, that is, rather than 'accurate'. We have the example of abstract painting whereby the forms on the canvas are what they are not what they seem. Thus, I suppose, if you give me a Cyrillic text, I'm going to see isomething/i, influenced by whatever is present in me at the time (Rorschach test?).are such question as you posed above ones that you frequently ponder?
Re: vintage blue
crap, sent to wrong place. potentially makes more sense as part of Antic View blog.
p o s t_m o o t
p o s t _ m o o t a convocation of unorthodox cultural and poetic practicesApril 14-16. 2006 Miami University. Oxford. Ohioperformances, discussions, screenings, papers and book launches (h u n d r e d s / Slack Buddha, Plantarchy, tnwk (the books chapters 6-7),Some Assembly Required) http://plantarchy.us/post_moot.html PARTICIPANTSMichael Basinski _Brian Marina Brown _Peter Castaldo _Rachel Chase _ cris cheek _Steph Elstrow _ K. Lorraine Graham _Alan Golding _Kevin R. Hollo _L.A. Howe _William R. Howe _ Jackie Kari_Justin Katko _Claire Keys_Steven Paul Lansky _Kirsten Lavers _Mel Nichols _Tom Orange _CamillePaloque-Bergès _Nicole Proctor _Jim Reiss_ Linda Russo _ Jessica Smith _ Rachel Smith _Rod Smith _Joshua Strauss _TNWK _Rodrigo Toscano _Keith Tuma _Mark Wallace _Leigh Waltz _Tyrone Williams _Aaren Yandrich _Jason Zeh _the formulation of post moot emerged from several conversations seeking to bring together an opportune fold of practitioners for whom the possibilities of poetry as agency in contemporary society remains a passionate concernthese practitioners blur simplistic demarcations between influential performances for the production and circulation of poetry(s) — teaching, archiving, bookselling, editing, researching, social activism, eventing, and curating. this is in addition to their daily practicewe mean the above to include diverse media and ephemeral modes of production *we wanted to create a mooting place (ok, a moot) for conversations and exchange, a convocation — part festival, part symposium, part conference, part discussion, part celebration, part . . . trepidationMoot. n. Pronunciation: 'müt. Etymology: Middle English, from Old English mOt, gemOt; akin to Middle High German muoze meeting, an encounter. Also: talking; the discussion of a hypothetical caseMoot. tv. 1 a : to bring up for discussion : BROACH b : DEBATE. 2 : to discuss from a legal standpoint : ARGUE. Also: to speak; to converse; to complain, murmur; to say; to utter; to argue; to plead; to discuss; to raise or bring forward; to dig up; to dig up by the roots; to dig out; unearth; to fashion; to open to discussion; to propose; to mutter; to utterMoot. adj . 1 a : open to question : DEBATABLE b : subjected to discussion : DISPUTED. 2 : deprived of practical significance : made abstract or purely academicit has been fashioned in a DIY make-do spirit and at short notice to catch the air of a moment. everybody doing something is doing so just for the craicmoot is a board game that consists of what are considered tough questions about the etymology of english words mooter is a web search engine whose strapline reads 'the power of relevance' p o s t_m o o t in terms of relevance and power then: in the context of what has been in recent years almost an orgy of declarations of post this or post that, desperate attempts to demarkthe post-ness of our situation is what is under discussion. we're interested in how we got here, but we're AS interested if not more interested in where we're going. post moot is neither a port of embarkation nor of disembarkation in the sense of journeys and destinations, the prioritizations of going to and coming fromit is not so much the moot that is post but the post that is moot — cris, jUStin, William - - - * including but not limited to live-writing, performance art, choreographic poetics, kinetic poems, movement poems, site-specific -responsive language installations, book/objects, artists books, writerly books, projected writing, cyber-poetries, video-poetries, concrete, visual, sound poetries, sound environments, radio poetry, networked media, etc for more info: http://plantarchy.us/post_moot.html
Re: test
killed aesthetes Art is not a mirror held up to reality, but a hammer with which to shape it. --Bertolt Brecht Halvard Johnson [EMAIL PROTECTED] http://home.earthlink.net/~halvard http://entropyandme.blogspot.com http://imageswithoutwords.blogspot.com http://www.hamiltonstone.org On Apr 4, 2006, at 12:49 PM, Steve Dalachinsky wrote: skilled aesthetes
by the way
thanks abundantly, allove 2 u
i wryte to you (mandy)
a word on a screen. mandy is viewed through a glass tank and suspended in animation all the stories but what the point? mandy has rings under her eyes, hair down to her shoulders, lips that are nice. she is not vulnerable but she puts herself in places that are. suspended in all the stories but what the point? cut out the pretty parts. mandy is a preson who hardly sleeps at night because she does not want to miss anything. mandy is someone who changes so fast and keeps so much inside that she hardly exists. mandy is healthy but sick in the terminal ways that old people are sick, mandy is a girl who goes to catholic school and played the guitar until her private teacher tried to get her to undress with his camera. mandy smoked weed laced with crack and had an experience. mandy ran her hands across a boy's face in the hallway at school and told him you have a soft face. mandy dropped out of school. mandy wanted to live in arizona. mandy worked as a stripper after she graduated. mandy sold shrooms. mandy stole a card from CVS for her friend's birthday. mandy changed her name. mandy was a different person. mandy watched her sister's brain shrink. mandy made her mother worry. mandy made her mother worry that she wouldn't find a place. mandy was a girl. mandy had sex in a rusty bath tub in a field in virginia. mandy did experiments. mandy was a scientist and a computer expert. mandy found a computer out front of somebody's house in adelphi and took it for her own. mandy checked the computer for viruses and found one called 'clinger.worm'. mandy named her computer 'rotten fruit' mandy never wanted kids or a house or a car. mandy exploded off the page. mandy exploded into grace. mandy used to dance. mandy stopped. mandy sometimes wished she was a boy. mandy dated a technician who used linux. mandy first asked if that was some kind of drug and then began to learn. mandy danced with computers and took what she wanted from the internet. mandy treated internet people with care and learned from them because they needed someone to talk to. mandy stopped dating the computer technician. mandy kept going with the computers. mandy knew that technology could be for everyone. mandy cried sometimes. mandy figured out how to dial-in to free internet acccess. mandy felt crazy in her own home. mandy felt safe in her room. mandy loved the world inside. mandy knew that love wasn't in the words. mandy felt not catholic guilt. mandy didn't believe in god or heaven. mandy knew that she'd die too. mandy fought monsters. mandy went to sleep for a long time. mandy wanted to sleep for longer. mandy realized that her time awake and time asleep were becoming the same. mandy wanted a name that would work like a key. mandy had names that worked like keys on the internet. mandy had a name that people called her and the name that was secret. mandy thought that two names, one for other people and one for her private self should be enough for anyone. mandy learned about these kinds of names from her ex-boyfriend, the linux guru. they had gotten along well but sometimes she felt like a martian rover that could only relay information back to earth indirectly, humans never experiencing firsthand the planet that could have once supported life but now all that's left are dried-up river beds and frozen polar ice caps. mandy started to become decentralized. her personality was already nonlinear but now instead of moving in a general direction it grew in many directions. adopting many different fragments of personality instead of thoroughly integrating. mandy was many things but mandy was definitely drifting away from her given name. instead of saying things she wrote them in her notebook because her notebook already knew the previous facts and could understand her current train of thought. mandy began to think all the time. mandy knew that theoretical thought was not just for boys. mandy began to read much more. mandy began to make words appear on the page. mandy began to make pictures with words (words within pictures and pictures within words) because pictures alone were not enough and words alone were not enough. mandy bought a bright pink dildo and had different kinds of sex with an old friend from elementary school she had not seen in years. they reconvened on myspace. mandy believed in chance to some degree but not in everything. mandy's ex boy friend was still her friend but he became boring. he sat in his room in his parent's old victorian house with dog shit on the floor he was too lazy to clean up and insulin needles he left around. mandy wasn't sure why but there was a noose of purple rope next to his desk hanging from a pipe near the ceiling. the computer he and mandy had built together became choked with porn and stupid shit. mandy needed some data she had backed up onto his computer which she had lost in her first big crash but she did not want to go to his house. his mother would be too nice and he would be too hospitable and smelly
The Prospect, Lackadaisical
this verse is a strayed hope wherein I'll, dismantled, dwell, unenthralled, and like the moon aloof, and with obscured glee, upon space raised huge by pines, spelling, alphabetically, the skies
Re: The Prospect, Lackadaisical
Harrison Jeff wrote: this verse is a strayed hope wherein I'll, dismantled, dwell, unenthralled, and like the moon aloof, and with obscured glee, upon space raised huge by pines, spelling, alphabetically, the skies nice--sounds Romantic but reads modern (or what the hell word is better than that) Allen
Re: The Prospect, Lackadaisical
this verse is a striated heap wherein I'll, in this mantle, well up, a thrall to the lupine eye, which, remote and rapacious, yokes a pattern so infinitely tiny, spieling, spilling chimerically, the skies, the skeins of the misbehaving sisters. - Original Message - From: Harrison Jeff [EMAIL PROTECTED] To: WRYTING-L@LISTSERV.UTORONTO.CA Sent: Wednesday, April 05, 2006 3:55 PM Subject: The Prospect, Lackadaisical this verse is a strayed hope wherein I'll, dismantled, dwell, unenthralled, and like the moon aloof, and with obscured glee, upon space raised huge by pines, spelling, alphabetically, the skies
Re: The Prospect, Lackadaisical
phanero wrote: this verse is a striated heap wherein I'll, in this mantle, well up, a thrall to the lupine eye, which, remote and rapacious, yokes a pattern so infinitely tiny, spieling, spilling chimerically, the skies, the skeins of the misbehaving sisters. - Original Message - From: Harrison Jeff [EMAIL PROTECTED] To: WRYTING-L@LISTSERV.UTORONTO.CA Sent: Wednesday, April 05, 2006 3:55 PM Subject: The Prospect, Lackadaisical this verse is a strayed hope wherein I'll, dismantled, dwell, unenthralled, and like the moon aloof, and with obscured glee, upon space raised huge by pines, spelling, alphabetically, the skies this verse is a stranded populated stopgap wherein I'll, remandered (the hell with Mickey Mantle), tell Interpol of, like the moon's proof, and with obdurate spleen, opting space raised to huge pines, spieling, alpha male likely, the smoky pod skies
The Agency of Discourse.............
The Agency of Discoursehttp://tinyurl.com/nah8z-- Peter Ciccariello http://invisiblenotes.blogspot.com/
Re: the teeth scrapings of a fictional charlatan
Intense!-PeterOn 4/5/06, phanero [EMAIL PROTECTED] wrote: the teeth scrapings of a fictional charlatanhttp://www.phaneronoemikon.org/images/3d/chagum.jpgor another set prop (perhaps an image in a waiting room) for The Microbe Merchant, or the Girl w/ the Ovaries(Henry Ceard and H. de Weindel, 1898)This was the first of offensive Grand Guignol dramasthat truly shocked newspaper critics.A well-meaning doctor pretends to be a charlatan. He sells two would-be poisoners fake poison,and refuses to remove a young woman's ovariessimply to make her 'safe for love'.. The poisonersreturn and threaten to call the police. the young ladymarries the fake fake-doctor.
Re: The Agency of Discourse.............
this is friggin gorgeous.. i was listening to Gerald Grisey's l'espaces acoustique this afternoon.. this certainly goes well with that stuff.. the textures have a very realistic feel to them and the font selections interfere in delicate ways with the contours of the forms the idea which seems implicit is a kind of musico-spatial post-writing in which content arises from the action of the gaze interpreting, interacting w/the composition and its various mappings.. the actualisation of a virtual mimesis using 3d seems so perfectly aligned to the musical visuality of language the text seems situated within that through it upon it.. those surfaces literally smoke with semiosis.. i'm wondering if you've played with elefont yet.. you might get some ideas there as well.. making the fonts actually 3d as well.. abolutely supple.. lq The Agency of Discourse http://tinyurl.com/nah8z -- Peter Ciccariello http://invisiblenotes.blogspot.com/
