Language bearers, Photographers, Diary makers
You with your memory are dead, frozen
Lost in a present that never stops passing
Here lives the incantation of matter
A language forever.

destructive

conductive

productive

intuitive

creative

missive

festive

native

fork

| ^ || ^ ||| ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ | ^ |  ||||    [loop]

pornographic

photophobic

psychotic

phonetic

dyslexic

neurotic

kinetic

stoic

rock


main
heaven
hell
kinetic




2003.19.2

OFFICECAM


2002.27.12

slowing manipulating the 'quus' funtion...


2002.03.12

where our language suggests a body and there is none: there, we should like to say, is a spirit


2002.22.10
6.30p

one can only see what is inside of his field of vision. nothing outside of our sphere of consiousness can be perceived. thus, we cannot conceptualize life -- we cannot see all it is composed of, it's framework, it's meaning. if there is a meaning, we cannot know it. you must be outside of something to be able to grasp it. all that is outside of life is dead, therefore all we can know about life we can only learn in death, and in death there is nothing, no conciousness. thus we cannot learn about life. however, i can try to emulate death, set up a model, so that i might model what is in life. that is my goal. if there is anything to be learned from life, through death i will discover it. i shall create something new, knew knowledge, through knowledge of death. this follows from the pattern: all things new come from something old destroyed.


Anything viewed at a small enough scale seems chaos
move the scale up, you see organization, tones, colours, harmony, then art
you limit yourself to that scale, because all seems good
you want all to be good
every man wants structure, meaning
they, you, try to form truth at this scale
you want all good to be truth, and all truth good
but moving the scale up further...

all colours bleed, harmonies interfere, art overlaps
eyes become faces become bodies become nations become specks
all becomes colourless noise
all meanings interfere & cancell each other out

you don't want to see this
at this scale you do not appear to move
your movements cancelled out by someone moving the other way
there becomes no meaning
only colourless noise
this knowledge suffocates you
so you choose to forget

i cannot forget
but also i am not suffocated
i see there's no reason to breathe
and hence breathe freer
if all becomes nothing, what harm is there in doing all?

i too understand the desire for meaning, movement
but cannot narrow my scale
i therefore try to scream loudly enough to hear it over all the colourless noise
trying and failing i lose no more than you do by stopping breathing


DO NOT KEEP MUSIC STORED ON DISCS
DO NOT KEEP WRITING TRAPPED ON PAPER
DO NOT KEEP ART BOUND TO CANVAS
DO NOT KEEP SILENT

unless you want your senses trapped....

DO NOT KEEP CALM

order allows for too much space
...the space between objects
...the air between myself and the table
...the emptiness between the molocules of air
order mandates this nothingness, for without it, nothing is seperate.

similarly, nothingness causes order, for everything outside nothingness becomes an object, a something, a priori
it becomes labeled, catagorized, ordered.

if, then, one could eliminate order, could one then eliminate nothingness?
there would no longer be any need to keep things seperate.
there would be no need for space
nothingness would not exist
our world seems bound by order, hence bound in space & nothingness

if one were to live their life unknowing of order
could they live unknowing of nothingness?

2002.25.04
5:20p

the hum of the servers... no wonder i can't sleep at home. i can't convince myself that white noise is noise at all. it's too quite. too calming. t.g. is my server fans, the broken hard drives. not noise at all. the true sound of silence.

what do i do when i don't want to sleep, though? silence becomes stale... can one scream loud enough to where it is no longer silence? at best white noise? i want to scream louder still....

noise-

album of the Moment:
journey through a body
by:
throbbing gristle

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