I dunno. I mean, The Rift is why an object exists. The Rift is also how an object can die: its inner, irreducible fragility. Every object has some feature labeled “I am not part of this object.” A hamartia (Greek, “wound”). An inner silver bullet, like a physical version of a Gödel sentence. The inner fragility of an object allows it to be destroyed by another object. Much more importantly, however, inner fragility means that an object can “die” all by itself. Every object is wounded. A hamartia constitutes the object as such in its determinacy. Impermanence is an intrinsic feature of why an object is an object. When an object comes into phase with its own fragility, it is destroyed. Consider the Hawking radiation emanating from a black hole. Not everything remains caught within a black hole: even a black hole, the densest object in the physical Universe, is internally inconsistent. At some point, the black hole will expend itself. Its hamartia, its inner fragility, causes it to cease to exist. Hamartia is what Aristotle calls a tragic flaw. Care to share any distractions / diversions? Anti-fracking legislation. Jay Defeo. Chinese and Homeopathic medicines. The Walking Dead. “Hell Broke Luce.” (I did one pump in Iraq, two more in Afghan. Now I'm out, and listen to this song when I think about how badly my body has been broken down, how my illusions about the world have been broken down, how everything in my life has broken apart in one way or another as a result.) It comes from a dark place, this sculpture; not as though its making was sad or depressing, but as though light doesn’t get to where it was created – the place is too deep. This dark object is inscrutable, not horrible, and I’m more inspired to wonder than to fear. This ur-thing I am looking at is Molasses Happens Rather Quickly, a sculpture by Christian Tedeschi that is in a group show at Western Project. Cliff Benjamin has just told me that, “Christian has more like this – one is ten feet tall and another is, like, knee high … He builds sheds for them in his backyard!” The idea of this is unsettling and powerful, like housing archetypes in your garden. “This spectral dark-star matter; this negative albedo; this artificial metal that mutes light from the stars. I’m thinking of urns: receptacles for dead people, a dead sound sitting somewhere on the other side of this piece of music … not Stars of The Lid, but A Lid on The Stars. John Cale’s playing an organ in the next room. Terry Riley on horse tranqs.” Remember yesterday when I said that getting a morphine-drip was like being frenched by a unicorn? Well, it’s sort of been stuck in my mind ever since and so this morning I tweeted this out: Random assignment for bored artists today: An illustration of a woman making out with a unicorn. #artforawesomeness. The responses were astounding and they helped me to find, lose and then find again my faith in humanity. This is why Twitter exists. This is why we’re here. Because there is such great joy in embracing the bewildering art of taking a joke way, way too far.
[Note: Sources: JBR; Timothy Morton, Realist Magic, as quoted in Morton’s “Object-Oriented Ontology and Impermanence”, at Ecology without Nature, 30 Apr 013; Brian Teare, etc., as quoted in “Brian Teare | May 1, 2013”, at Take Down the Clouds, 30 Apr 013; Tom Waits, “Hell Broke Luce”, and top YouTube comment for same, as quoted in Jon Cogburn, “Tom Waits – Hell Broke Luce”, at New APPS, 30 Apr 013; Geoff Tuck, “Christian Tedeschi’s ‘Molasses Happens Rather Quickly’ at Western Project”, at Notes on Looking, 30 Apr 013; Kek-W, as quoted in Darren Bauler, “MPA: Vons Serin exchanging Frequencies With Cicadas”, at Theater of Diminished Faculties, 30 Apr 013; Jenny Lawson, “And that’s why twitter exists. For pictures of unicorns snogging”, at The Blogess, 30 Apr 013]