I find myself lately meeting people in real life. The sex columnist this weekend who said: Upon looking at all the books on our kitchen table, my friend Mikhail said, “Look! Rae Armantrout Fishing In America!” I was suffering from traveler’s gut – the bloated belly, the constant constipation – and I was trying, desperately, not to fart. I remember thinking to myself this is what I do now. Before I would be in a crowd of hip artist girls and boys, the intelligentsia, and I would try to look cool and contained, or beautiful and unreachable, and now I just try to walk in beauty like the night in which all cows are black. Have you been to Madison, Wisconsin? Do you work in a fact paced team environment? The business Docs are all talking fireside in the state capital lamenting the abuse of SickNotes. It’s gripping. The last of the late great gorilla-suit actors is the last man alive on this earth. “Where is the movie, where is my movie?” the gorilla-suit actor cries in despair. He is taller than even he remembers. I mark my height on the wall in green pen, challenging my smallness. A few seconds pass. “I wish you had a tongue,” said Barbie. “I wish I had a tongue,” Ken agreed. “And I wish you had a tongue.” “No, I really really wish you had a tongue,” Barbie said as if she were using a screwdriver to screw the sentence into Ken’s plastic body. “And I really, really, etcetera, got you last infinities,” Ken said. “Your oral really sucks.” “Ditto, Princess.” “I read that’s the number one reason cited by plastic couples as like causing their divorce.” “Terrible oral?” “No. No tongue.” “We could get implants,” Ken said brightly. “If it weren’t plastic it would look disgusting.” “But if it were plastic, it would be a sucky tongue.” “I know, right. I hate God. Mattel. God. Whatev.” “Me too. I hate God.” Somewhere in this sound envelope we crush together and mixing up our lungs. “‘I was talking with some friends after the NSA thing happened,’ [July] says on the phone. July lives in Los Angeles with her husband, film and video director Mike Mills. ‘We were like, wouldn’t it be radical if we just said, well, let’s make everything not-private. I mean, if it’s all going to be read anyway.’ It surprises me that people – that I – don’t write every email as though it is going to be leaked [tho NSA surveillance has nothing to do with leaks – ed.]. Even in countries less state-controlled than China or the US, your gmails [sic] are hardly safe. And when you die, what? Knock on wood, but Collected Gmails [sic] of Thomas Pynchon can’t be very far off. So July, as July does, has taken a common household fear and made it sweetly, strangely palatable. Even those who’ve found her sickening will like this project: She’s not in it. None of the e-mails were originally sent to her, and none of her own e-mails are being sent. ‘The first batch I got was from Catherine Opie, the photographer,’ says July, ‘and her e-mails were so intense, so long, so personal. She shifted my conception of the whole project, you know, and I realized I’m getting to see this person from her own point of view. Like, you sort of feel like you’re in the driver’s seat.’ Or, like you are wearing a Google Glass with “Opie” etched on the theme.” To open this is to suddenly transmit thoughtful fun through your brain capacity. Jugland zero lake solo wands. the galleric honours and on. Home love candle signs. Synergy the land be fierce and through trees. No tomorrow, like ways we write. Conservation and beautiful windows open to handle the crummudgery. So equal and sturdy, my love is so dynamic. Atmospheres we of and always consider real. This is the presentation we usually, basically play. The horizon ritual is often circular and brown. So the similar shall end the sentance that clings. How have these manerisms become so basic; I digress. From the positive creativness, the promotion ideas of many. People hoarde and complain. Maybe they will revolt someday. If they could, that would be clouded and often left relentless. Play on wizard stallion (lettuce and chesse) (lettuce and cheese). Dear euro/us media, even if you want to call it a coup d’état, we forced the army to make this coup d’état. Get over it. And, yes, we dare to question & shake your concepts of democracy. We want for ourselves way more than your democracy. To quote Lobna Darwish, from Egypt. So what’s wrong with home-brewed kale beer? America I can’t stand my own mind. / Go fuck yourself, etcetera. Is this the regulation archival refrigerator? Mimi, of course it is. Don’t you remember working with me on SAA’s Archivists’ Refrigeration Standards Working Group? Did you forget all the confusion people had figuring out the difference between us and the Archival Refrigeration Standards Task Force? What if we embarked from the left margin and never returned, into a dark wood, fractal, by fractal, including a little sound, etc, into the wide sea of? It is easy to see, then, that everything hinges on the ability to give the formulation and resolution of problems the time required in order to avoid terrorist short-circuiting as much as possible. The main lesson learned from the last century’s revolutions can be expressed as follows: the political time of the communist Idea must never compete with the established time of domination and its urgencies. Competing with the adversary always leads to the mere semblance, not the real, of force. For the communist Idea is not in competition with capitalism; it is in an absolutely asymmetric relationship with it. As the dramatic conditions that accompanied their implementation clearly showed, the Soviet five-year plans and Mao's ‘Great Leap Forward’ were forced constructs. Slogans like ‘catch up with England in fifteen years’ implied a forcing, a perversion of the Idea, and ultimately the obligation of implementing Terror. There is a necessary slowness, both democratic and popular in nature, which is particular to the time of the correct handling of contradictions among the people. That is why the fact that people worked slowly, and sometimes not very much, in socialist factories, just as people work slowly and often not very much in Cuba still today, is not in itself such a terrible thing. It was only – it is only – a form of protest in the eyes of the world of Capital. Work time cannot be measured in the same way when it is related to the production of surplus value – namely, the profits of the oligarchy – as when it seeks to accord with a new vision of what people’s lives should be. Nothing is more important for communists than to declare that their time is not Capital’s time. (‘The sky above the port was the colour of television tuned to a dead channel.’) The day she and her friends were beaten badly as teenagers as part of a gang initiation rite the imprint of anniversaries still does not infringe on the desire to bbq ribs on a grill but the grill is gone, oh well the desire to blow shit up is universal. My little pony, sparrows’r’us, O Philomel, can we sing “clouds” now like back when the beautiful was beautiful? And the stars go: THINGS ARE NOT LOOKING GOOD FOR US / but they’re looking better for us than they are for you. S wanted T to trim his nose hairs. They had gotten out of control. I can't, said T. Some bats live in my nose. S looked up T's nose and saw bats. Or, as the Marquis de Lafayette put it, “What does this / for example / make you think / of? – that which goes wheels-up when it comes time for toes-up or a haze beneath the flyover?” Chew until u r reeling around in yr blubs. Think white hand + black insects or tea rose + mildew -- YIN TRAVELS, you might say through fingertips: A lion is not much more than this. The part of the brain that survives disaster is the same part that bangs a small wooden spoon on a small echoing part.
Frances Farmer Is My Sister, 3 Jul 013; Anne Gorrick, FB post, 4 July 013; JBR; Timothy Morton, “She Walks In Beauty like the Night in which All Cows Are Black: Byron’s Nonhuman”, at Ecology Without Nature, 3 Jul 013; Adam Weg, “Music to make recommendations to”, at > THAT MERCILESS AND MERCENARY GANG OF COLDBLOODED SLAVES AND ASSASSINS, CALLED, IN THE ORDINARY PROSTITUTION OF LANGUAGE, FRIENDS; Patricia Lockwood, “The Last of the Late Great Gorilla-Suit Actors”, at PEN, 11 Oct 012; Noah Eli Gordon, “three spider stories (from Dysgraphia)” at Woodland Pattern; William Keckler, “Did I see you swarming?”, at Joe Brainard’s Pyjamas (The Sequel), 3 Jul 013; Jefferson Toal, “Alma”, at THAT MERCILESS AND MERCENARY GANG OF COLDBLOODED SLAVES AND ASSASSINS, CALLED, IN THE ORDINARY PROSTITUTION OF LANGUAGE, FRIENDS; Sarah Nicole Prickett, and Miranda July, as quoted in “The Surveillance (Maybe) Project of Miranda July”, at Harriet, 3 Jul 013 (it is lovely and amazing how ignorant these people are; I signed up anyway); JBR; Joshua Strauss, “Parade Maurpoliette”, at > THAT MERCILESS AND MERCENARY GANG OF COLDBLOODED SLAVES AND ASSASSINS, CALLED, IN THE ORDINARY PROSTITUTION OF LANGUAGE, FRIENDS; JBR; Lobna Darwish, FB post, 4 Jul 013; JBR, but see previous; Frank Champ, FB comment, 4 Jul 013; Allen Ginsberg, “America”, as quoted in Lee Ann Roripaugh, FB post, 4 Jul 013; JBR; Mimi Bowling and Geof Huth, FB comments, 4 Jul 013; Nico Vassilakis, FB post, 4 Jul 013, and Stephen Vincent and Judith Copithorne, appended comments; Alain Badiou, Idea of Communism 2, as quoted in Benjamin Noys, FB post, 4 Jul 013; William Gibson, Neuromancer, as quoted in Benjamin Noys, FB post, 4 Jul 013; Bett, “independence day”, at bett’s blog, 4 Jul 013; Ana Božičević, “Some Occurrences On The 7:18 To Penn”, at Typo 12; JBR; Shane Jones, “Hairheadland”, at Typo 12; JBR, but see Aindriu MacFehin, FB post, 4 July 013; Alan Davies, and Michael Gottleib, as quoted in Davies’ “Michael Gottlieb / Dear All / Roof / 2013”, at Harriet, 26 Apr 013; Lara Glenum, “A Poem is a Skin That Ruptures”, at The Volta 12; Nada Gordon, “Yang and Yin”, “Alexithymia”, at How2]