Monday, December 8, 2008

The INTERFACE Post Human time/ AfterShock:Desire as inexhaustible material of consumption/Batailles erotics and annihilation/
Eroticism is offered to us as an antidote or perhaps a placebo to death a plenitude of non being under delay of mere instants of divine pleasure/ By being and becoming sensual the erotic act is a revelation an exhuming of the explosive force of pleasure as denial and the amplitude of restraint/In truth eroticism is deadly because of its power to distract and defer at the risk of destroying both ourselves and our sense of sublimity/The ego drowned in immanence of causality of obsession to feel at the extreme level of impossibility /we are drawn into the dawn of the night/anguish becomes the hazard of fear/the exstacy of desire like love is a catastrophic delirirum the way it allies itself with hunger for the dark and secret insomnia dreamless sleep strange fevers exterminating order within the nervous system and the risk of loss of the beloved/The act of love is sending the letter that will never be responded to/The scream of profligate desperation after nights of insomnia hellucinating death as the occasion of a crime /the perception of our internal nakidness the vulnerability of our sensations increases the intensity of the risk of speaking of desire to the beloved/ Always the risk of loss which reminds us of the long experience of loss we have behind us/The rhizome of desire is a thirst for perilous subversion and a burning heat that liquifies the flesh/ Desire is driven by a longing to put off to be sadistically unrequited/ Failing to seduce the beloved the tormented one can then luxuriate in the utter inflamed loss that each rejected gesture becomes/ Desire accumulated debasement as an indication of its ferocity and force[puissance]/The lover wastes away in an orgy of narcotic addiction pouring ones every thought into an abyss of consuming indifference leading to madness and suicide and worst still the drive of becoming alone and disembodied/ There are times when one is infected by the lust of the other and the two couplings of love collide in a burst of incandescence/ Each competes to be destroyed by the other/drifting into hopless exstacy attempting to exceed the other in mad vulnerability/Reveling in that negation which is the strength of denial/ Lovers conspire to protect each other from the lethal destiny of their passion and relapsing into the wretched sanity of mutual affection or raising their fever to new levels of intensity/Eroticism is contact and contact is opened by the extravagance of death alone/A licentious defiance concealing itself in the hysteria of death in reverse/ This is why to love is to bleed which is not due to the pain of lack but the parasitic affections of insensitive excess/The words of desire are made of the impossible blind instinct of extreme emotion/
There is no escape in the blind alley of the Interface which moves the pornography of sexual pleasure from the sensual inertia of sleep to the ferocious velocity of the fear which gives love its consummation in exhaustion and fatigue/Death will always be the limit of sensuality as wretched violence/May yr nights be surreal and your days be full of the discontent of DaDa/Regards Lee Kwo/

Monday, June 16, 2008

When psycho had not yet become -anal-ytic/
Long before the invention of words we talked with fingers and eyes
made our marks in dirt in sand the iron filings drawn to polarities of magnetic north
long before words of love the love of words was immanence of the desire to become essential/
Preoccupied with this being without knowing why or how to initiate vigilence
There was attachment to the other in her uniqueness and savage alterity/
similar in our otherness were we/ and have we/ become an I and a YOU?/
a we and a they a them and a there of elsewhere and no where at the limit
Lacking sanctioned plurality and complicity duplicity and lucidity
While there is no demand for reciprocity of ressentiment Nietzsche is everywhere
solitary figures dont look isolated merely left alone
Yr word not mine yr thought not mine I retain some traces of the fetish
Yr antagonism at running up against fallability of
pure sensation not converted yet into perception of deception
There remains the need for acknowledgment of autotelic pleasure
there is no thought of corruption without creation when death is a fact
a fluctuation in the pulse of the blood screaming for
the rhetoric of brutal resistence to definitives that betray and corrode
that erupt into a form of crime against the self anonymous until now
abandoned by the promise of a future of inconsequential pain
you are a true heritic of life in which desire
does not take for itself a particular object of redemptive morbidity
saturated as it were with the epidemic of resistence to suffocation
if death were really nothing but ceasing to be waste
to the sublimity of a hostile world of seductive subversions
but i did not see I was not there I could not know yr screem
which sees what it cannot articulate without repression of excess
excavating and expurgating with increasing intensity
I am a victimless crime of aural allegencies to the screech of the death drive
the fugative expectations of a sad longing to avoid aural contagion
affliction precedes and exceeds awareness of DogMan a mess of filth
vulnerability and arousal of violated flesh the paradox of fascism
in the world but not of the world our source of insanity is metabolic
the art of exact dosage and the over dose which is always fatal
you invent self destruction that has nothing to do with the cycle of life
lapsed memory a code falling into a gash of transient complexity/
What happened to this murmur of strangeness ?/you die incessantly ?/
of the extra the critical fragmented essence of eternal recurrance
how distracting is the noise of thought under hermenutics illusion
to excavate bodies made of tonal frequencies detached from conflict
The avoidance of ontologys totalizing grasps and whispers
There is no transcendence no waiting no saving no exhumation
No time of right final pleasure explaining in the last breath
On bed of dread nought the jargon of viscous intent was interrupted
Bread of stone seamans semen unheard washed away all her tears/
Only a spurt of orgastic verbal jissim karked from bony lip
Hardfaced collaborator shaved head pied noire sans culottes
Bricoleur sur Git le Coeur linguistic languish a deepening horror
Complex tangle of words all vowels of Rimbauds colours blackened/
that are emitted by the text of the residue of hysterical fixation
unable to be divested of its excessive anality and inanity its profanity
there is random interference and any number of sonic interruptions
a prior sounding of noise which makes absolute silence dissonant
resonate and resound with the intervals of the performing selves
avatars and justified subjugations and suspicions of accomplices
that all is not as it appears under the cynical power of the sigh
leaving the intolerant question of how to understand
what was not heard at first glance above the racket of
a certain failure of attention to read between the lines/

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Death of a Cyborg

There are liminal phenomena determined as astrological
and those approximated within dimensions of space and time
Veydra Synth is witness to her immeasurable specular extinction
nothing less than a rehearsal for the beginning of an end
of terminal fatality where fearful men become extinct
the disposal of abstinence the doctrine of final things
a conclusion without a final utterance of intent

for no word can express the loss of uterine attachment
showering sparks of anxious friction to die starts at conception
the fetus devoured by encryption of XXPhallic sublimation
she drifts towards a destiny that makes her a stranger to herself
under discrete linguistic moments she proliferates surface noise
tracked down by angels with deadly weapons under a terror moon

locate and transmit last breathings of casualties
missing in action autopsied corpse of objects final moment
shadowed by clinical morbidity point of infinite decay
uncertain about the moment of deaths arrival or departure
perhaps already passed the future of a passion to transgress
she conceived in a lonely pulse of menstrual blood

Immersed in vacant constellation of disconnected signifiers
refer to objects and subjects gone to marginal obsolescence
a ripple of alien thought went through her neural rush
Consciousness annexed by the machinic/a prohibited resonance
she is in yr vagrant arms under a mantle of aggression
she is contaminated by a rupture of images residual anonimity
enveloped within yr hands vulgarity a murmur of trespass
gripped by yr teeth you stream with her alienation
until saturated you are eroded away male droid bitch

you have acquired all her doubts and fears her pathology
this is the final transfer of love to lover as perverse desire
is this the anticipated moment of compromise
a recognition finally of her lack of soluble presence
her exposure to the tyranny of routine tight about her throat
daily activities of miraculous feats levels of subservience
neither impressed or diverted by her thoughts of singularity

the state that filled the incoherent void with unstable metaphysics
stranded at the intersection between presence and absence
his language of final gestures is very expressive
while his contained emotions are clumsy and mechanical
remember you must exist or give yr space to the other

as she lay dying wind howled in the bones of her face
moved by the rush of spectators across transient Interface
flowing over yr yawning lack of solace to convulsions of hazard
at falling from precipice of familiarity into philia of trauma
does she know these faces which shed tears of classification
she walks on not feeling foreign but alien in this fatal struggle
inevitable fault lines appear within dreams of hope and faith

when the prophet speaks of the doctrine of final things
he is precipitating the failure of history
the invisibility of ideology
he neglects time which ends in ambiguous silence
that no human ear is left to hear under notorious sonic aspects
her human face is an empty grave

now blind she reaches for the temporary incident
and collapses into the crimes of optimism and delight
she suffers her death wearing the torso of a nakid woman
nothing has happened the missing time never existed
scar impressions on translucent flesh
at each crisis without realizing it
a little of her life escaped
and now I see
I loved her more in death than in life/