pornographic

Ulterior Jukebox

“I try to inspire experiences for my audience but I don’t take credit for it. It’s not like I’m prescribing a medicine. I’m just the facilitator. If you are moved and encounter a new idea or feeling or experience then it is because something has spontaneously occurred for you that is personal to you. And that’s outside my sphere of influence.” — Jessie Fingers, Looping the Loop

The sense of continuity provided by the narrative device made the records complete. The literary gimmick gave the impression that the author was clever enough to be able to articulate a concept. Narrative made fiction sound like fact. Spontaneity, contradiction, the music of poetry were ignored and replaced with the concept of the concept, which was a cop-out.

The Y-shaped structure was covered in faded writing. The character named Nasrul found nearby a similar plastic structure creaking in the breeze as it stood up out of the ground like an arrow sign: ^. It was also marked with inscriptions as recorded — out here.

In contemplating the establishment’s anachronisms, its classical allusions and inherent immorality, the general public had been defrauded.

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The Removal of the Logos

_logos

“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…)