I wanted to be aware but not according to the breaking news. I wanted to be in the water, the water being the hands that can cover your whole skin at once. I ended up laughing and holding a long stick – a wide stream – wondering how wonderful it might be for someone else to stand on the outside of us and then to look at me. He stood there in the shirt I had gotten used to wearing when I used windex on the sink. I used every scrap of paper I could to wipe it clean, and then I wrote down several numbers on my hand. He demanded that I touch his face. It was a sinking boat, I was watching it as I watched my hand, or was I watching my face, I mean his face, and why was I not bored. Later in the week it will be very different, there will be less said because there will be more specific things to say. I will think about my longing to go fishing once more, go swimming I mean, with someone else, the other one, the one that I will be with forever in one way or another, the one that is the definition of not having anything else. I was swimming in my skin until I was sure that my own liquid was inside out. Sure the bad eyes and the headache were my fault, unlike the vessel and the necessity of containment. Someone would have wanted to know that we were having the feeling of weightlessness, and that we couldn’t escape it, because you can’t run when you’re submerged. There is no traction, and also there is no pushing back. I knew for I had tried for days and days.

[ output from weekend #21 of 2010 ]

performers interrogate the embodied limits of the morality.
of the society, they package spontaneous
and respond to spectators and authorities

performers elaborate upon three methods of inference, and apply their theories to me

i, performer, lay on the floor beneath while she dances leaps and taps, and pretend that she can’t see me. and she can’t.

mistake

You rocked in your rocking chair as if in a dream, and the dream soothed you. So what, you can’t wait to get to life? So what, you can’t wait to burn your eyes on the light again?

I love confusion

point

Why did i talk of salvation? I bring confusion a color.

Now i love assignment: clutter i do not love. Clutter is too damning a thing for me. Love for clutter shall distract me.

Offer me nothing. Rather, rip something off me and go ahead and burn it – that will do me a little good. If only. And if you have to offer something to me, then dangle just remainders, and make me dance for them too.

sit

What would I have to offer? Let me leave before I find out.

Could it be different.

behold! I show you the last linear thought.

For if you speak of love, my heart breaks before you. I am not much more than a child that has been exposed to something she cannot touch.

We make our various departures, and there is nothing contemptible about that. Now and then we perish in our departures, and in those moments we suffocate and thrash. You with my own heart.

ax

Dear Members and Consumers, please dear god try not to speak too loudly or with the dirtiness of language. The sounds you make should never get any closer, never get any bigger, and they should not acknowledge your inevitable cheapness. Just open up your mouths one after the other in order and avoid disjuncture, disclosure, and sharp turns.

(There is disjuncture and we are weary. There is disjuncture, and not only do people sense it, they make note of it. There is disjuncture and people are taking screen shots. The disjuncture is between a useful observation and the scene’s actual complexity: this discrepancy may cause many people, one after the other, to forget his & her rebellion and/or appear very flat. Dear god please.)

This begins in a typical environment but the narratives within slip in and out of occult archetypes. The roles we play synchronize and anesthetize our multi parts. We can usually count on commentary from The True Believer, The Chaotic, The Skeptic, The Mystic, and a young and ambitious reporter, but we still end up identifying some kind of internal failure and crying in afternoon meetings.

(If only it was a simple failure to heed. Or a great failure of suffering, A failure to form acute institutional memories…)

Imagine how a meeting with one of us must go. Meet in the morning. A conversation with a leader is difficult, for it is never easy to have a conversation with an asshole.

The commentaries on the commentaries have meant the world to us, dear god, as though we could please.

And do we owe layers to others, and should we consistently employ strawmen, and should we over-reach conclusions just to make managers feel delicious.

second most layer of sky
I wish on
birds, a margin of error

I am evinced by your call, fantasy at last lost, at last deciphered:

by quirk of fate, I take myself
as I never was to be

Out of work late. Nothing unusual; it doesn’t even hurt. You are fond of leaving work long after dark, as you prefer overexertion to sluggishness. You take the red line East with a bag of corn chips in your lap. Nothing unusual. Lately. Lovely. Luckily You. You have a day’s worth of ambient noise stuck in your head, like a prayer, like a song. You wonder why the train is so empty because it couldn’t be so very, very late, could it?

Shift. If it wasn’t that damn freezing drizzle again. Made a wreck of you, made a wreck of the streets. You pitied the parts of infrastructure that were disrupted by circumstances such as climate. Perhaps the train would go flying off the tracks. Perhaps. A tunnel, suddenly; the train went underground. You sigh with relief.

(You hadn’t anticipated the bad nerves.)

For you’d always imagined that with the passing of time, a certain complacency – maybe even a tendency to embrace any old fate – would set in. But like your contemporaries, you were starting to see how aging might well be a misfortune. Which might explain (or at least partially account for) your discontent with the budding, cultural activities of that metropolis. But it didn’t make you sour. You at least enjoyed a good explanation.

Session 1

Ok, I am lecturing now. I am going to convey some pieces of knowledge to you, and on the way I am going to tell you something useful; give you a tutorial on the Future. You will see; this knowledge I hold is accurate and important, and I know how to conduct analysis in the jargon of authority. In fact, I was up late last night thinking about how to tell you about the future, and what I might say while I am telling you. I decided that I had to know exactly what I know, and tell you exactly all of it, and then I would have some position in relation to you, and we might actually begin to have a dialogue. I still think it sounds reasonable, let’s begin.

In order to begin our Lectures on the Future, we will have to start with the Past. If the Past has ever seemed, well, obsolete, we must here remember that it always lives on because its maximum utility is always in the Future. We have always just missed its value, or in other words, are soon to attain it.

The Past interprets the world better than other things. We can stand here and embrace reality not because of the reassurances of the present, but because of the crippling nature of the Past. The Future is the opposite of behavioral certainty – rather, it is the final, and perpetual, defeat of reason. The Future embodies the Past at the same time that it uses hope to invert it.

Let me get to the meat of this message: the Past floods the barriers between scientific disciplines and mental insecurities. The Past can be seen as a science. Yes, let’s say that this is true. It is a science, and the only science that can capture the global nature of systems. The Past has brought together thinkers from fields that we once assumed to be widely separated. The Past poses problems that both defy and unify conventional ways of working in science.

Most importantly, the Past, as a scientific discipline, makes strong claims about the universal behavior of complex systems.

The first Scientific Theorists of the Past were the scientists who set the real discipline of “systems analysis” in motion. They shared certain sensibilities, and applied those sensibilities to how they saw complex things. They had an eye for time, and they had an eye for patterns. They were especially turned on by patterns that appeared on different scales at the same time, or on the same scale at different times. And yet, they had a taste for randomness, for jagged data and irregularities, as well.

Sometimes these scientists called themselves believers, or converts, or evangelists—because really, what were they addressing? They were doing nothing less than speculating about determinism, free will, evolution, and the fate of conscious intelligence. They were the first to invest in the momentum of thinking rather than thinking itself. They felt they were doing nothing less than rebuking a trend in science toward reductionism; banishing the notion that systems can be analyzed purely in terms in their current state. Ha! They said. As though systems can be studied as a snapshot in time!

The Scientific Theorists of the Past believed these and other things. They believed, most of all, that they were looking for the whole.

Now Have Yourself A Look Around You are in the hotel room on business. Why is he lying there. Get up. Go to the window sill.

       But no, stop. Don’t look out the small window, which overlooks fourth street and not the water, hey, No, don’t look out the small window, which overlooks fourth… Ok. And now you see a small round table on top of which sit the smaller computer and the keys and the lighter. These are objects but they not resting. You are heavy but not rested.

       This is because, unfortunately, there is not a lot of gravity. This might be based on your recent discovery that. We have found that modes of laws and thinking computers are. Have you ever wished to hold a myth in your hand, closed in more tightly than your facts. This is not strange. Bear with me. This is not stranger than what we were prepared for.

       Yet something prepared me. Perhaps it was the model in the machine that readied me for something, allowed me to experiment with capturing physical data, tagging it, and then processing it in loops for the sake of a new presentation. A new format, but first I have to tell you something else.

       The table happens to be as tall as the height at which the objects stopped falling. This is the height at which the objects rest. The table is not burdened, you can worry about other things for now [for I will soon need you]. We will soon need to call upon. What will we need. Help us parse real-time information and couple it with functions. To prepare, think about different categories of vital signs and emotional disguises. For soon things will come into play; I’m excited; we will put things into play.

       You can only believe in one or two things for now. You’re concerned that your memory is a liability in the system of knowledge to which you subscribe; you can’t help it.

       Just so. You presumably saw apples falling in the daytime sitting near home on the crust that is a layer of the earth and it reminded you of mass center a mass.

       Experience and the redundancy of experience will be essential to making a program that can recognize patterns and use the patterns to control the way things move in the things we see.

       We embrace reductionism as it ‘models’ learning, and for this reason, we surrender. )))

       We embrace ritual and order. What can we do without the coercion of ritual. When we say If…Then…, time passes. The moon starts running in a different direction.

       I’m lying down, starting to wake up a little from dreaming, but still breathing quietly and so are you.

       Classification can seem quick and cheap, but
       Cheap but
       the aggregate of multitudes –
       classification can seem quick and cheap, but        the aggregate of multitudes of classifications could be,
       I never wished a worldview.

       There are ill-fitting marigold drapes that let a bit of light into the hotel room. You are in the hotel room on business. Why is he lying there. There are things I still think of when I can’t stop thinking of you.

       Because just how… can’t do it but can’t you, but just allow for the consideration that the whole room is begging. All its relative components can’t but, but can’t get through to the self-subjective entities that they are, can’t get a self. And they cannot certainly, will not get through to the people, us, partly dreaming on our backs.

       This is the thing, this is the one last thing, that is, or maybe. Or could it be that everything-at-once thinking if it ever has instances of achievement, it is instantly used for something else, something non. Unity is most often used for automatic. Unity is most often used for differentiation. An opportunity for a downward spread. We want to get ourselves all over the graph and stay there. I am inclined to pause. I am having trouble staining you.

       After all everything-at-once happens at peaks precarious. We are falling, don’t laugh. We are lying.

       We are always feeling endowed with the ability to break the simple rules that matter has set up.

              Look Around Have A Now Yourself.

       Still somewhat imbedded in everything-at-once myself, the phone does things to the air that are quite shocking. It rings and cuts out and rings again.
              I answer and the voice says,

       Be careful waking up for Achievement in dreaming is not Achievement from dreaming.

       If you must go back, please incorporate both an interest in computational models of language acquisition, and my research and work with the semantic web and ontologies. As computers are now able to demonstrate emergent behaviors, I see a need, like that time I knew the water would have helped us, but, I see a need, you see a need, I say…

       Careful waking up. You cannot do that because you cannot do that. you have to wait for me here. The ticking clock on the fringe of that old discussion. You were almost positive you would feel different from this. Sitting in the hotel room, you are using identification and classification as physical and cognitive themes, are you on business, the alarm the phone – too soon. That reminds me it reminds you of who you isn’t and is that not like a greeting; you didn’t much like to think this way, not before we got all the way on to the next simpler love.

       Were you traveling that day to question the inherent biases of input data and experimental design. You be Careful waking up. You will not bias. How could you know.
       Since every time,
       since noise lingers,
       since we unashamedly mingle in a silence that’s really begging,
       you are not bias, you are something you cannot avoid.
       The key the key in the lock
       And you just be waking up.

I read an article on the brain and then I read a whole textbook about it. The bedroom was public. So I took myself to the bathroom where I could lock the door. Lifted the same square from the floor. Childhood is stupid, and so is studying the self in a general way, unless you are writing poetry.

Thinking is only good when it’s a trick, and trick it we do. Usually we need only close our eyes.

What am I doing being so silver.

We hate to see the future. What a horrid thing, the things we can see that really do happen. I can’t imagine myself riding the bus home and then actually going and doing it, and so I take the subway instead. With airplanes it is harder.

Let’s say I spent a lot of time on one paragraph in 2004. Let’s say it was about a cave. I wound about the cave, disguised as a man named Larry. I read him aloud in parked cars to make him a better dreamer. Larry, dream better. I learned that I hate working these things out in the open; it bores the fiction.

Moments of intimacy with language are often marked by urgency, and are often as stupid as childhood. There is a reckless abandon that overcomes when there is both something to say and a way to say it. This instinctual relationship of a person to the translation of experience is retrospective and present at once. The receiver of language, similarly, is present, but is also inside of several other memories, and subjected to the usual intrusive assimilations.

The need to hold initiative and narrative desire together in a single strategic space.

To distance oneself from the vastness of a petty emotional connection. To forget some terribly overwrought piece of media.

When _____________ recorded his every utterance from ____________ to ___________ and made it into a book, all hell broke loose, and a sad story was produced.

Narrative is not as immediate to the nature of experience as immediate to the nature of ____________ as