Monday, 1 August 2016

Discordian Tenderness - Note on Manifestos

Thinking about the manifesto form. How we've settled for it. How form adopts us; absorbed into it on every level, how in that case it becomes unattainable; all movements unsustainable. How that resistance is the destruction of form that is part and process of the movement into larger form. Form galvanises the edges of the universe. Billions and billions of forms.

That's a quote from wonders of the solar system episode 2 I think - Brain's at absolute peak and he's standing on some rocky cleft with the stars going about him like tiny glinting aristocrats, and he's having this really mild and pernicious orgasm (albeit involuntary) which alludes to a modern commercial festival's version of a rave, in that it cums in disappointment, and Brain's going on about light hitting his eyes, while his eyes are secretly asking you for a bag of Garies, or as he calls them "stardust"; this subatomic Randian multiversalist: planet earth - the biggest planet in the world. Basically I'd like to start a campaign to try and encourage him, and everyone else in that cultural petri dish to have these intense moments of linguistic and syntactic slippage in every manifestation of thought they can muster, public or private. What that slippage would look like is this: the bright eyes become dulled, or the dull brightness of the explanatory mode of address is seized by a genuine brightness, the corners of the mouth peel vertically towards the furrowed head ans the rings on the inside of the cheek flats gallop. At this point the orator (Cox) opens his mouth and states "don't listen to me. I'm making it up. It's written on a board. It's nothing. I don't know. My name is Professor Brian Cox and I do not understand you etc.". And this as a broad brush stroke over the rigid anti bathetic malaise of public culture in general. The only way our ontologists cause us to laugh is through absurdism drawn from the outside.

In this case our problems are environmental. Truth at the centre if we'd only care to look at it, around it all these laughing hacks (us - you etc.) creating a cacophony of indolent hysterical bleating whilst our cultural servants do their utmost to filter us out. You are standing on the underside of the water's surface. What is a derivative. The manifesto is a compressed nebula inside a light dot in a vianetta held tight between layer one, cream, the ice layer, the frozen new formalist movement, three Faber young poets and your dad wrapped around a vote. Those are some of your choices. Billions and billions of them.

Sunday, 31 July 2016

Discordian Tenderness - Second Manifesto

for Fern

(after Sappho)

Discord, the blast
                                 mirror
the magic columns,, tenderness does not. There is nothing but the void. The genderless chain of exactitude.. : pin,, "there is nothing
                               but the void" is tireless, tenderness is the gaping void. Is the entropic frontier is this joke called the cosmos is this implacable enemy,, easy the way that leads to the void. The void will loom eternal and intact.
                                                   (Hair)

    Void.
    Intact.
    Wasp.

The precinct of the void is a mirror, the mirror of the precinct, the void.

Some say there are no enemies, no oppositions. They are hacks and liars. Enemies. Your violence is in panic at the void. Violence to us is that we represent it: shreds and blots of the void dapple us. We are feared. We sometimes remain silent in public because our voices will out us. Afraid in this moment. Of physical attack. The void is full and empty. The world is slated with opposites and estrangements. We are gambled for and over. Subjects of the Gay Masters. Our bodies, occupied buildings. Private sectors. I fear those that gamble against our lives. I Hail Discordia those that gamble us against them. Throw an apple at a cop: The queered void is grounded in the free.

Friday, 29 July 2016

Discord & Tenderness - First Manifesto


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Tenderness is not the capacity to feel. Tenderness is not lost on you. It is not a supplement for solitude. It doesn’t leave you, but wants you. And in it there is a world of sounds and sound’s ecstatic lack. It is not ordered but proceeds from its mirror world. Tenderness doesn’t leave you at the pitch of your desires, it doesn’t make an argument for or against any new or ceasing world. Tenderness is not a flag: It falls in discordant parts and shapes, heaping up in cheaper disproportions and you sing there, or not. Remain in the lack of its shape, sound; the blast mirror where decay is; it is there, in decay also there is tenderness. In lack there is everything, all given choices promised in the absence of all. Does not linger too long in the realm of parenthood, in the body. But tenderness is, with resistance, with bodies, without them. Tenderness is; rested and illusory.  
And discord is not merely a raised voice, a priapic lung, a red gesturing sack of cheeks and turning whites of eyes. Discord, lush engulf of sadness, broken waters of sky. Violence is there, inside and over,, it is not a D├ętournement; we’ve not hijacked language. We live there, between the closed walls, the symbolic, the real, the imaginary: All ligatures, heaving our bodies screaming into the order of words. You’ve not taken the violence  and horror in order to disarm it. It is. You are. There are no tourniquets. What it means it means despite you. Discord denies this, denies us; me: Useless impartial anti-voice. Discord is not an idol, neither a mystery, neither a horror. It is horror and joy, supplemented, mirrored,, the mirrors shredded in teeth it is your spit,, my eye with it brimmed. Those corners of un-closable love, and for us all.

Monday, 18 July 2016

Manifesto (10.07.2016 - After Wolf Kid)

Manifesto.
The next time someone gives me that kind of shit, I don't know what I'll do. Probably cower like some polite little scab. But here it is. People assuming your entirety, as a fetish object, a novelty, a commodity. Telling me I'm "brave", that I should be myself no matter what etc. Telling me you're an "ally", be your fucking self like some stupid pithy little mantra that would save me from violence if only I could remember it. Don't assume a thing. I might even be armed. Don't ask me your stupid fucking questions. If you can't treat a person like a person, if your guilt has rolled you into yet another piece of self shaming and self serving violence then that is yours to live with. It holds you and guides you, helps you find more and more lives to objectify,,,, crawling around the room begging for forgiveness; STOP, wondering aloud why it is that what you think you think and feel doesn't seem to manifest. Guilt is hatred. Self hatred turned to hatred of the "other" (as you say) the "invisible" (as you way). We are unified. Your unity is with the ideology of division, social chastity and self aggrandising tokenism. Come see us Wolf Kids, ask for our experiences served up in neat consumable liberal packaging. Tick the box. Assume and categorise our identities. Move on; STOP. Come near us again, start grabbing at hair, recite our racial, sexual and gendered histories back to us. Oh, thank you. I never fucking knew. Or perhaps don't, because we've been here for ten billion years, we'll rip off your face or something. Free yourself of your guilt. Free us from your guilt. Free us from guilt. Triton is a blue line; STOP.

Friday, 24 June 2016

... 24.06.2016

If music be the food
                                   // Nigel Farage,, that serial offender
                                      shot himself tonight at 19:23,, good
                                      little cartridge of a country, this was
                                      fought without a bullet,,, Nigel Farage
                                     && Boris Johnson will die today. I can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it. We can feel it.
                                                                     THIS HORRIFIC RACIST CAPITAL
THIS AGONY OF SMILES THIS DECREPIT FUCKING PIT THIS CHANTING THIS 100 MEN SURROUNDED THREE REFUGEE CHILDREN TO DEATH THIS PECULIAR SCENTED SLANT THIS GROSS         FUCK NATIONS.








Thursday, 23 June 2016

Supplemented,, forced..

I have to think about this a:::: this I have to think of this face of when the hairs will grow again I have to think it is when I don't think I may be beaten I am usually scared I am a body of information I am a sucked gland  I am a time a broken question of parenting I am a violent man I am the reamain I am Remain I am enemy I represent nothing my voice is that of a man. :{LEW

]~%WE*
               *^V&B &OF       i am specimen

"
|          b            but not
          i


      I am spec     species....




Was he a violent man?
                                      Well he had his genocidal moments.....


I the unconsumated rivet the broke historical the lie against whatever past it was I am a traitor to. Whatever passed over it is the wanting of death and sex the wanting to be fucked somehow the fucking death of it the wanting of ribbon ties and death sex and the wanting of not to pray the wanting of not the eating the wanting of to lace belly the wanting of the beattitudes the wanting of deification, sissification, the beauty of its broken stealth, ,,,,, ;[jhbyuTHE


   ///.tyu ugly stars
the broke2 gor34t
          5h f
   w]tyj4;st4;t\dout them

yj'oht[gf ee\n
   qMG JEUTYJ4H



              NO

I do not fit the voices you have chosen
I do not weaponise the world you built me
I do not fit with the configuration
of this species there is death. I do not
Jane is perpetually kind,,, maybe not today
I will go into the Hades I will skin I will
tits I will revolt I will hands,,,, bodies
wounded world of its species I will fuck
and destroy like a man would no,,, I refuse
I will be fucked and be destroyed as an act
of useless class treason there is,,, there is
chilli for my eyes there is rubber there no
there is this treatment this infantilism,, dead,,,,,
there is this rubber nipple there is solace, always.

***********************************************


There is no generational exit no excuse there's perhaps I am wrong perhaps the diorama of the spheres of my understanding perhaps no this is the entire wrongness there is a thing it feels like fibres or fluff it turns to soft wet crystals to frogspawn ,,, fucking naked ,... This, people want clarification, for this to be the entirety of my work, for my identity to invade: refuse the central position.

There by cleft tele story to
up in digest what carpet steels
care does no one cut out do
        food opene ene there like

is forbidden. Gastric
                     lame to
do decease.


R%^&*(
                 Do not say......
I could never say that to you
   Never form a set of specifics could never

   but do not reduce me if you will do not
      say that to you I am just this or that
    I am mere and contained I will
          be unsafe towards you,, take it as
     a threat or as a consequence or as
     naturation,, we could talk all day
yes..
     we could
 literalise
                            princess me

 yes,,, sometimes
that         is i cry myself, silently,,, no tears,,,,,, i have been made
conditioned to do it,,, so when there is yelling
    i want
  mummys, daddys, sisters, there are kinks
   in this armour there are designs &&&& pleasures
& rope is not but ribbon is & suck it is but spit
it isn't      3 it is but one it is not

    age
  category
               m i n e
 l
        h-bt 9[5/   / this buzzing these
                           hapless roman numerals..

we understand one  
         another
we are hurting you we are hurting you the end the end s   the end sss the end is nt


when
          when it    's not as you'd want
whe



                to be fetished
      to be made
               but force, this beautiful
      immediacy xx

                what am?




Supplemented,, forced..

I have to think about this a:::: this I have to think of this face of when the hairs will grow again I have to think it is when I don't think I may be beaten I am usually scared I am a body of information I am a sucked gland  I am a time a broken question of parenting I am a violent man I am the reamain I am Remain I am enemy I represent nothing my voice is that of a man. :{LEW

]~%WE*
               *^V&B &OF       i am specimen

"
|          b            but not
          i


      I am spec     species....




Was he a violent man?
                                      Well he had his genocidal moments.....


I the unconsumated rivet the broke historical the lie against whatever past it was I am a traitor to. Whatever passed over it is the wanting of death and sex the wanting to be fucked somehow the fucking death of it the wanting of ribbon ties and death sex and the wanting of not to pray the wanting of not the eating the wanting of to lace belly the wanting of the beattitudes the wanting of deification, sissification, the beauty of its broken stealth, ,,,,, ;[jhbyuTHE


   ///.tyu ugly stars
the broke2 gor34t
          5h f
   w]tyj4;st4;t\dout them

yj'oht[gf ee\n
   qMG JEUTYJ4H



              NO

I do not fit the voices you have chosen
I do not weaponise the world you built me
I do not fit with the configuration
of this species there is death. I do not
Jane is perpetually kind,,, maybe not today
I will go into the Hades I will skin I will
tits I will revolt I will hands,,,, bodies
wounded world of its species I will fuck
and destroy like a man would no,,, I refuse
I will be fucked and be destroyed as an act
of useless class treason there is,,, there is
chilli for my eyes there is rubber there no
there is this treatment this infantilism,, dead,,,,,
there is this rubber nipple there is solace, always.

***********************************************


There is no generational exit no excuse there's perhaps I am wrong perhaps the diorama of the spheres of my understanding perhaps no this is the entire wrongness there is a thing it feels like fibres or fluff it turns to soft wet crystals to frogspawn ,,, fucking naked ,... This, people want clarification, for this to be the entirety of my work, for my identity to invade: refuse the central position.

There by cleft tele story to
up in digest what carpet steels
care does no one cut out do
        food opene ene there like

is forbidden. Gastric
                     lame to
do decease.


R%^&*(
                 Do not say......
I could never say that to you
   Never form a set of specifics could never

   but do not reduce me if you will do not
      say that to you I am just this or that
    I am mere and contained I will
          be unsafe towards you,, take it as
     a threat or as a consequence or as
     naturation,, we could talk all day
yes..
     we could
 literalise
                            princess me

 yes,,, sometimes
that         is i cry myself, silently,,, no tears,,,,,, i have been made
conditioned to do it,,, so when there is yelling
    i want
  mummys, daddys, sisters, there are kinks
   in this armour there are designs &&&& pleasures
& rope is not but ribbon is & suck it is but spit
it isn't      3 it is but one it is not

    age
  category
               m i n e
 l
        h-bt 9[5/   / this buzzing these
                           hapless roman numerals..

we understand one  
         another
we are hurting you we are hurting you the end the end s   the end sss the end is nt


when
          when it    's not as you'd want
whe



                to be fetished
      to be made
               but force, this beautiful
      immediacy xx

                what am?