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Dec. 17th, 2009

Alan Sondheim

no stuff..

Defuge sets in, a kind of nausea, too many files, too much, we'll give it
a whirl, we'll see what comes up, we'll scrape the 'Internet Text,' any-
thing else I've done..

grep -h "no stuff" texts/*.txt > zz
- No stuff!

Let's see - We'll try -
grep -h "no music" texts/*.txt >> zz

During day 2, the piano music was marked - slow, moody, in so many of the
perfect music) (there are no musicians, in the sense that there are no

Not much for the texts from the past sixteen years..
What to do.. What to do.. I'm tired of music, tired of practice,
most likely you're tired of listening to me (if you've bothered)..

Where's the good video in these parts.. taking a break, I know, I'll do..
Maybe no pictures?
grep -h "no pictures" texts/*.txt >> zz

A short time ago, there would have been no problem; Delphi and other
predictive techniques, including computer extrapolations, presented a
relatively coherent view of an emergent world. Now and for at least the
next half-century, such extrapolations are locally relevant at best; no
pictures, nothing is glimpsed beyond them. We are in the dark-age of
fast-forward multiple (inter)connectivities that construct equally
multiple topographies and worlds. It's no longer clear that what lives on
the level of representation, does not live as well; artificial life is
life of a form, decimated by pulling the plug. If artificial life is
clearly the dynamics of information / processing, what removes us from
this as construct: What remains obdurate in the world?

That's better - one long entry apparently without line-breaks in the
original. And apparently nothing remains obdurate for long..

It's 2:17 in the afternoon: Do you know where your partners are?
Maybe I make video with them? Definitely no video, let's see -
grep -h "no video" texts/*.txt >> zz

or the last empire, i forget the title - you know the one - the no video
stop? why is the NO VIDEO still going on? Why does it say no video really
runs when no video is turned on at all. These ghostlike apparitions are

Of course there's film in the last resort, but I haven't made film per se
in years - no film! So -
grep -h "no film" texts/*.txt >> zz

Nothing! No film at all! Just as I expected! Let's try "no photo" -
grep -h "no photo" texts/*.txt >> zz

Nothing again! No photos, no no photos, nothing..
Boredom arrives, no music.. Maybe I'll listen to something..
But then, perhaps no texts, everything gnawed out - beyond all reason -
grep -h "no text" texts/*.txt >> zz

typifications, standardizations, disappear, and no textual instantiation
typifications, standardizations, disappear, and no textual instantiation
about reading the others, where there are no texts, where texts only come
the _text_ of the thing, but here, there's no text, just _image_ giving
#1, Bodee, Bedee, and Budi here. >> There is no text installed .... yet.
left-hand one partially erect, no text.
typifications, standardizations, disappear, and no textual instantiation
codework is self-referential, but no text is completely self-referential
debris, no joke, no text in this
wait there's an image here there's no text here
typifications, standardizations, disappear, and no textual instantiation
starlings obviously have no texts and it seems a leap from semantics to
starlings obviously have no texts and it seems a leap from semantics to
starlings obviously have no texts and it seems a leap from semantics to

That's more like it.. starlings have come to roost.. last night I heard
new cries.. wailings and ministrations.. fantastic, unbelievable.. what

Dec. 14th, 2009

Peter Ganick

transigent the they follow earlier flocks,
no more metal than crystal.
therein sassing redundancy, weeping tolerance
to replay place naively curs.
transigent the they flow ladders flurrying
a range off, horlogeries detente hot-head
mope the motel reaches frustum ingredient...

Dec. 11th, 2009

Alan Sondheim

"I want to ask Jacques Derrida a question."

I want to ask Jacques Derrida a question.

It is question about death, not in particular his death.

But a question concerned with the aporia of death, not necessarily his

Such a question, which would have been possible several years ago, is no
longer possible.

We are thrown back on the words of Jacques Derrida.

We are immured there.

It would have been simple: Jacques, here is what I want to know.

Do you have a minute of your time.

The body of Jacques Derrida still exists.

His body, phoric, carries the aporia.

The aporia is not his own, nor can he speak and return an unraveling.

Today, words are never set in stone, and questions go unanswered.

Today, questions disappear, and their occasion disappears.

The occasion of a question: a gap, as in a detective story.

As if the question were sutured by an answered, when in fact it is sutured
by any reply at all.

An answer responds to a question; a reply responds to the occasion of a

I remember Jacques Derrida, and would have tapped him on the shoulder,
saying, excuse me, but ...

There is an image I have of this tapping: the softness of his jacket, the
slight giving away of the flesh beneath, and he turns towards me.

When I move my hands, everything is empty.

Jacques Derrida is a remnant of matter.

.. "If death" ... "names the very irreplaceability of absolute
singularity (no one can die in my place or in the place of the other),
then all the _examples_ in the world can precisely illustrate this
singularity. Everyone's death, the death of all those who can say 'my
death,' is irreplaceable." ... (Derrida, Aporias)

When I move my hands: when my hands are moved for me, are only moved for
me: mise en scene, a scenario or occurrence, chora.

I do not collapse time, Jacques, in order to speak to you: I speak to

I do not collapse space, in order to speak: I touch you lightly on your
shoulder, I wait until you turn around, your glance moves in my direction,
momentarily you are caught up in my gaze, you hesitate whether or not to
return your own, your reply to my question, you return such, as if such is
returned, an exchange of gifts or misrecognition.

Of the good, there is the edge of a knife, and the fall which surrounds
it; of the spoken, there is a comprehension, empathetic alignment, then

Of the spoken, the knife edge separates the question I give to Jacques as
a gift, an awakening, and the reply which shatters after a particular
time, calculable, unattainable.

Of the question: all questions are a permanence: It is impossible to
answer a question.

Jacques turns; I look at his shoes. Thinking of Van Gogh, of Heidegger,
of Jacques Derrida, I take several photographs. They are remnants, indices
with lost referents; they are abject. I am silent; I say nothing to him,
to Van Gogh, to Heidegger. Repeatedly I raise the camera; eye-level, I aim
downward, towards an incalculable earth. The images, lost, are digital;
they never were. Between one pixel and another, a hole, precisely the
width of death.

Dec. 8th, 2009

John M. Bennett

Blue and Red

pull the fork up knack listy tine
brack bent the wall of skulls bright
with paint .burning faster than the
clam crumpled in my loot I turned the
plate and left .blinking light ,the hosp
itible room whirring with machines a
pencil rolls beneath the bed the blood
and snacks the fisted time the sack you
lent .the room was eaten ,puzzled
,flaming like a lake

Dec. 6th, 2009

Lanny Quarles

mon hithertwine mix mutton chopin
pli, ne' nether nethyl
breath all oil lest water to term its
sty laired aerie follicle
twice open atrium you burst
with birds

o flagellum of melanism
meek sleek ichor writhings
tube treble wobble

Sabine's snipe is of
a black hydrocarbon
forming part of rochlederite
black and gelatinous
an elemental rising
from natural ink holds

a chaopurr's

dream quietly lady laddy adder madding
asp wish supple kinsmet
karma maximus sircuse its fuseam
lordent fasabrensile
chessum to hape

no ilg
adder allodium
award nadra natra
od ardure
baud blue chare
cheap cheese chel
gewlinkian blaw kerjan
kehren kase kosi kesi
natara whence karen

leak oki pooklia
ewlenkan crab cherry kirsa
chip klenk coff
chlobo my krampe krakkon craquer
cask dweller
kippan sato sozo
kranu crawl creep kuddi

dag im dear dell den
delgen scepeno
le gruova

grub Lecercle
I dollop lyricerony
maintop potty
futile bottom
chief north funder pour
purd off undus

and cupe ki
fud futte
and raith graedig mourning

many penys
bolster bridge care

emboss gate

greedy impale
the batty fit
aperient aneling
some by handy nor all
ioyes a mann
bona fide tax
bossawes to little cou
bent babble aver


They found Edward.

Dec. 4th, 2009

John M. Bennett


the focused fork I dried beside your
feet the frying fuel the the flame
fingers folded in my hat I flew
upside your face I followed all the
feces round the hill .so at the entry I
sat ,ectomorphic even ,eating the engine
of my exit from the egg .when the window
wails ,the wallet wanders and I wall
owed in my whistle ,waking ,wooden and
wondered what my pantsleg was

Dec. 2nd, 2009

Peter Ganick

tertiary period, albumen the theory in deduction form redunancy pleonastic wisdom none.
there script, evidence rehash untry sincerely yours, the operatic grilling, epidermis.

least broken as trajectory subsumes those flexibility arhat impediment light listening literature.
en route a gram of sepia, tensional coefficients add notions of photogram opacity's everest.

note: miniseries, the feds open format, elvis attunes why not assume? tjant eventuality.
introit velour epochal monday tuesday a take a pick a reflective nature reacts silently.

Nov. 29th, 2009

Lanny Quarles

he tried to bring simpruths to bear on the whole
wrestling with tigers, the mustache is small, overwrought,
it comes in a rainbow of colors, and materials

tiger rainbow mustache
composed of hollow jellybeans
in which the orchestras orgy

gelid deer mustaches
of sleepy silver butter

green heraldic mustaches
whose mothers are like hands
of exploding pink milk

jean. (Charles)

small catholic jean. (Les Characteur)
living inside the tiger,
and where the ship sails
in mustaches, sailors
on their burning decks of carnival
would wrassle tigers

with stainless steel antlers
spraying cafe' con leches

lecherous tigers
their burning orchestras
like ticks in a collage
of collagen clocks
armpits hiding
their mystical mustaches

he tried to bring simpruths to bear on the whole
and in his grape-mustache become a rotating diorama vehicle

sculptural sex
seen inside
the gut of a flea

the flea's head
like a building
of Pre-WW UNE France
in which two men are
dueling over an opera box

The Word


which is secretly tattooed
under the mustache
by a dearly beloved creature

in heavy wooden clogs

Nov. 28th, 2009

Bob BrueckL

Lines to be worn in titanium white letters on a jet-black velvet XL v-neck tee shirt

while shopping for bargains amid the hordes on Black Friday:

"Cowed limbs paginate the stapled, scabrous, lashed, pistol-whipped, diachronic voices of waffling sourpuss pricks

finger-wagging their fangs and thumbing their noses at the nasty semiotic innuendo."

Nov. 27th, 2009

Peter Ganick

it sienna widely preempt eins zwei drei the calypso gathers.
nothingness for nth disappearances, trowel unveils remedies.
another rex calisto vhs ceilings where slaked humanitas.

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