poetry

The Liar’s Kiss

“The wireless, the automobile, the airplane, the telephone, all these marvelous inventions are indeed, as you put it, ‘re-inventing the human being’. But I say that if this most fundamental of truths displeases you so, there is no choice: your interpretation of this truth will be rejected. You claim to live without these things but the free society requires the freedom of science to pursue its goals.” — Prescott Conrad (in conversation with Roland Windsor-Young, 1942), The Free Society, Radio Broadcasts, 1940-1963

At 873 Emerald Way, Nasrul was found to be all the stranger for his fiction. After he left the premises and walked into a bar on the corner, amongst some small business owners, landlords, local shop keepers, and some of the office staff from FreeDomination, he drank seven shots of tequila then went back to 873 Emerald Way.

With the help of a convenient dispenser I was compelled to document these events.

Criminal gangs were getting through a loophole, stealing DNA and trading in clones of celebs, politicos and other VIPs. The Entertrainment Consultancy demanded it, although they never would admit to it. The Society of Watchers was placing its faith in the big-time illusions of the big game psy-op and seeking out some new attention seekers. Compulsive viewing had become compulsory.

I joined the Counter-Intuitive Literature Investigation Team (C-ILIT) as a sleeping partner, in the hope of an irrational explanation for the anomalous content of these outpourings. If I could not be described as a function then I was a plain tonal pattern that signified a stereotype. In the context of commerce, I was a set of perceived characteristics to be qualified in accordance with historical tropes. Otherwise, I was a business card for a psychic reader.

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Sephirothal Topography

Sephirothal Topography

published by ALIENOCENE – Journal of the First Outernational [Stratum 11]

Alienocene is an electronic journal that gathers texts, sounds, and images seeking to reshape the relation between the human and the inhuman.

alienocene.com


Automaton

Unfolding interceptions herein necessarily occur serving an aesthetic fashioned to radiate. Made of multipliable, eternally repeated strategies of rendition—objectives exhibited to, and simultaneously by, the unwilling poet—the format of AUTOMATON leaves at reception verses floundering on the edge of a litmus paper, and unbeknownst to the deliberations of any common sense, posing themselves as characteristic of the forked tongue.

download >>> AUTOMATON

Autonomic Précis | Disembarkation | Unorthodox | Cupid’s Opera Has Broken | Radiographs | Along the Centre of the Leaf | A Journey Faithful to the Destiny | The Werewolf | Fault | Dominique | Fraction


Antic Institution

“Earth folks were impressed with suffering. I gained respect and admiration by praising the ordeals of craving and misery. In my disguise as a public intellectual I made myself a paragon of dread and the crowds flocked.” — Nancy B. Haigler, The Guest Book

Gathering to repair the deficiencies of their professional doctrine, the technologians adopted the robust perspectives of the Institution, the manifesto for which declared a humanistic programme for prosperity and happiness.

For the information architext, being without an informational construct meant being disconnected from the flow of life in the datastream. The concerns that surrounded the lack of an object generated unwanted empty space. The pro-consumer could only reach satisfaction by filling up space with one or another of the architext’s inventions. So, the architext designed a new mediator that would be more addictive than any drug.

Picking up the literary pencil once again, I was startled to find out just how much its outpourings failed to correlate with the literary pixel. I had access to a super-charged and strangely constructive ambiguity (which I stole from a journalist who’d been to Cheltenham Ladies’ College), although I was probably too attached to rhetoric and the monastic stench of myrrh and frankincense.

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The Kill-Freak Syndicate!

“The philosophers’ inventive theories of time and money directed and guided the managerial class towards the ways by which they could change the world to suit themselves.” — Steven Simpson, Blinded by Science

In the old mansion house in the swamplands where the cops would never find him, the occupant paced the dining room. Anikulapo-Kuti was possessed of an unusual, chaotic intelligence. Dinner was at seven.

Psycho-gulls ate from the pre-conscious archives and, doubtless, they portrayed vast and brilliant scones and tea in the afternoon. Fearful they were not, yet with fear and terror were they deplored as they cut a finger slicing a side of beef or cracked a precious Arabian plate.

Description lost out to prescription. Pushed with haste that could only be resolved by informational products, marvellous new vices were engineered in leaps and bounds and spread abroad by the forces of evil.

Poverty Inc moved into new territories, solving problems with a new spin on an old dogma, promises of betterment, a way to bridge the gap. Condescending to point at a picture of a pauper in a cloth cap holding a noose round the neck of a woman accused of witchcraft, and pointing out the barbarism, the faulty metaphor was recycled against a backdrop of leisurely hours spent haranguing the natives about how lucky they were to till the soil.

“Turn the ghost up in here.”

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The Attention Seekers

“Quite apart from their uses or designs, buildings can emit energy which has an ethereal resonance that exceeds the human attention span.” – Louise R. Schoenfeld, The Architecture of Etheric Space

Sampling a few after-deaths, Nasrul reserved the right to zap the televisual myths from outside their reality, without a role, with no rule or counter-rule, no abstinence, and without gift or depiction.

Oh, hideous, wild viral poem, lacy in the void of extra-sensorial Sephira, no word would suffice, but whatever your control was doing it was beautiful.

Strutting about everywhere, the ubiquity of opinion allowed for no difference between polemics, poetry, philosophy, journalism or pseudoscience. Revolution was just another school of thought, a self-descriptive mythology, a result of social conditions.

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The Dictatorship of the Factual

“If there is to be any basis for solidarity, much more intensity is required. Firstly, to salvage and revitalise, and then to acquire full comprehension of the cohesive energy that binds the different elements our mistaken beliefs have disconnected from the primal origin. And then to synchronise that energy with the alienated environment in which it was lost.” — Nadezhda Kharitonov, Alien Republic

I was sent from the future. Any verbal object was a tool of the imagination. I was writing from within the essence of things, but the centre would not hold, so I related the following…

Nasrul was consenting and often anecdotal. He was aware that his collaboration with the author was in both their interests. Nevertheless, in making the golden choice, he was denying the cost of life or death and leaving behind the need to survive as a character. He had no belief in evaluation or development and had abandoned the mental effort to grasp the fact of time some time ago. None of this entailed withdrawal or disinterest. On the contrary, it enabled a fuller penetration and excavation of the great unknown.

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At the Zero-Core

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“Without touching each other we lay on the quilt and watched the dawn. The blissfulness I felt might overwhelm me. Nothing I could say would be with words.” — Rick Lindsay, The Lapis Daybook

When the impulse occurred to write sensibly there was always a certain risk involved because many people tended to look at writing as if it were information or a set of instructions. This was before the discovery of its unknown properties when writing was co-opted by narrative.

Maybe freedom was a carrot or an apple, but its most sacred duty was to trust the truth of fiction which is the spinal fluid of poetry. There was plenitude and substance at the Zero-Core, deep underground, where deadly impermanence was reversed by the negative theology of the anti-narrative.

In the following passages are recounted days and nights that flourished in the wonder of uncontrolled joy. (more…)

The Removal of the Logos

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“Preconceived ideas and buzzwords are represented by hypnotic devices for the cognition of purpose which coerces and fixes the senses of things and the connotations of actions within the narrow limits of closed and absolute systems of rationalization.” — Julianne Fortuin, Cognitive Markets

As the subjective world impressed itself Nas found himself unimpressed. It was as though he had been afforded the privilege of that special allotment known as “inner space” as a sanctuary or consolation away from the intimations of power. But it was all so unconvincing. The more he contemplated the nature of subjectivity it showed itself up time and time again as fictitious, as did power.

While floating in the algorithmic floatation sphere it became apparent that no-one could ever hope to achieve much with algorithms, except maybe in non-fiction stories calculated to ground the self-narrativising subject into the ground, which might have been of some use or other, but it was either a quarter past six in the evening or the morning and already the cloudless sky was as still and clear as day. (more…)

Fiction is Stranger than Truth

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“We live in Utopia amongst the shells of the un-dead, / Unseen behind the veils of empire’s walls. / The emperors kill for pleasure and spoils of war bring them bread, / But we have made the laws that bring their fall.” — Gordon Pearce-Lonsdale, Collected Poems, 1924-1977

Technocrats in smart rooms were asleep and dreaming in barcodes and serial numbers, arguing that the end of history and the end of society had brought more effective securitization and a more sustainable repackaging of the consumerist catastrophe with their branding schemes: FreeDomination, Leaphonine, Equipole, etc.

Those kinds of intellectual gymnastics recalled the triteness of that well-known 1960s Pop Art collage by Feigenbaum of the revisionist Joseph Stalin in 1942 as a Buddha with armalite rifles sprouting from his handlebar moustache.

Branding was what used to be done to slaves and livestock but now there were prized consumers to think about, more worthy jobs, enhanced revenue streams and much improved documentation. Also, convenient social applications that would eradicate needless barriers to communication. (more…)

Equipole

_equipole

“I am not dead because I was never born. I did not live, and I never died. I am the living death that resides at the center of the world.” — Master Qiang Myeong-Suk, The Unvanquished

If the language of the “novel” was to function at optimal level, this alone would be insufficient proof that words are sounds represented by artificial symbols rather than units of communication.

They could be both, Nasrul figured. Words were noises, grunts and tribal signs that masqueraded as communication and this meant that they must be under the control of certain shady operators for the prophet. Naturally, this implied that another form of justice would have to be enacted so that the illusion of power would be removed from the repressive order of the written and spoken. (more…)