In the House of the Hangman 1251

And the sea can shed shimmering scales indefinitely. Her depths peel off into innumerable thin, shining layers. And each one is the equal of the other as it catches a reflection and lets it go. As it preserves and blurs. As it captures the glinting play of light. As it sustains mirages. Multiple and far too numerous for the pleasure of the eye, which is lost in the host of sparkling surfaces. And with no end in sight. … And whoever looks upon her from the overhanging bank finds there a call somewhere further than the farthest far. Toward an other ever more other. Beyond any anchorage yet imaginable. I [too] disappeared recently, don’t know what else I could have done. I know anxiety is the general condition, but that doesn’t mean it can’t open sinkholes in every aspect of your entire cellular system until, well, the simple velocity of starving to death becomes pretty much synonymous with the simplistic velocity of the society itself. Your social functions become that simplicity. To sit very still, to never leave the flat, to be surrounded by raging melt spectres. You probably think I’m exaggerating. So fuck you. OK, I’m sorry. Yeh? Meaning we are locked out. But actually, to be “locked out” can, in some sense, be read as an advantage. Misread, for sure, but maybe a productive misreading for all that. To get a sense of what the murderously rotational teeth of a key, for example, actually mean. To understand what eating actually is. To know what biting is, and consumption, and swallowing, and digestion. To understand the secret molecular fuck-toys of the entire social labyrinth as a simple sheet of buckling and jagged glass. And all of that is pretty much what I mean when I use the phrase “fuck you”. The Oracles are dumm. Why are they so dumb? Rainy day, ugly little room. I will make the mountains hurt. How will you do that? How ill you / Do so? The oracles talk a lot / Of shit. Hence, our fight in Detroit has to be rooted in the streets – and cannot be limited to the narrow scope of lawsuits, referenda, or elections. The only fight that will restore democracy will be broad, mass fight to stop austerity, using every means at our disposal. In short: Greek-style austerity should be met with a Greek-style style fightback. The0I reser was swarming with Swat teams / Ive0I notic repetition / About 46000 refugees live in UN financed / I0I23 was 0I expected to be there by eight in / My0I2 impri is your imprisonment / When0 I0I23 was fifteen I knew an old / lady0 she 0I was clairvoyant / Here0 lies0 the next to the last sentence / Large refug camps Monday killing six of / It0I2 state that have been released / by0I2 the oI FBI regarding the incident / I0I23 can0I write nice stories about my cat / Youd0 have0 to be a little unstable to give / There is0I2 no Mexican military detachment / We0I2 strug for the freedom of all the / peopl and 0I for our sacred earth / And now the flush of thresholds, substance given way to things of each and every Sort: / / already been dealt with, and the specific feature of lalling is that the speaker has no power over his own speech; it is ’uncontrolled’ and **im**- / / 00: aim   16: imi   32: mimimim / 01: am   17: imp   33: mmmmmmm02: Bim   18: imu   34: nimnimnim / 03: cm 19: in 35: nmnmnmnm [ … ] And rat telepathy, with electrodes. The humpback swallowing six parts / Plastic to one part plankton / The birds’ hollow bones — / They were container ships in their bodies / Throat singing Aleutians or cosmic / Nurdle up sea goo catastrophe yo / And vacuum form its goo into / No ingredients? No problem.

[Note: Sources: Luce Irigaray, Marine Lover, as quoted in Hazel Sullivan, FB post, 2 Mar 013; Sean Bonney, “Letter on Employment or Not”, at Abandoned Buildings, 2 Mar 013; JBR; Catherine Wagner, “A Landscape”, at The Awl, 22 Mar 012; “Detroit: The Athens of the Midwest”, at a better world is probable, 2 Mar 013; Hannah Weiner, The Zero One, and Alan Sondheim, “Poor Substitutions”, as quoted in Jack Kimball, “Mad in Craft: Hannah Weiner and Alan Sondheim”, at Jacket 12; JBR; Timothy Morton, “Oops, The Solution Is in My Head!”, at Ecology without Nature, 2 Mar 013; Stephen Collis, “Midway: A Requiem”, at Jacket2, 27 Mar 011]

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