17...recoil step trace/ trace non-step/ recount can one/ the eye‟s recount roving in the X. of/ meld till trace of what has yet/ before having come from none/ not knowing of the how many or/ taken yes no or of the/ claimed claim a desire for breath/ non-speech/ nothing left of what what matter/ yet still/ still the grind of lack/ exhale what for as if to/ or/ still no recoil no not a trace/ recount of X./ how many yet the steps unclaimed/ to claim no/ eye spies with the little left/ some substance or other/ knock knock there goes the light of the once hereafter/ lock trace/ recount/ nothing none of it/ no nothing more of it/ until again/ not having moved yet having/ all the while/ recount can one/ am or of the is or eye/ split/ spillage/ what laughter else of the hereafter/ having claimed/ no nothing/ X./ parameter/ a sky streaked with excrement/ doused the lack till fill/ recoil yes or none of the above what matter/ non-speech no never once more/ in-dreaming of the never uttered/ yet still the ever-final grind of emptily/ once more until lessened/ claimed not claimed as far as the eye can/ see-saw/ oceanic swell of tears having forgotten one‟s place/ as if to gift the nothing of/ recoil step trace/ not knowing of the how many left/ it matters not yes it matters like pissing on gardenias/ final clamour X./ night spillage/ day‟s light/ perhaps some other eradicate/ bone times none in the algebra of silences/ whispers of the trace/ not a stitch/ cease/ claimed claim a desire for breath/ in the absence of breathe/ defined by/ spoken of what whispers/ nothing anymore/ paring away yes one pares/ the eye‟s recoil is perhaps September it matters not a fuck/ X. or no/ a bound reach/ skin the/ an abound of reaching skin the cat out of the bag no not a trace/ knock knock there goes the light again what matter/ on and off/ a pulse almost/ no/ some substance or other here comes the blood rising in the parched throat/ some distance to trace/ as if to/ recoil step trace/ as if to say/ non-speech is best/ ever clear/ not having moved yet having/ inhale what for as if to/ claimed or unclaimed/ spattered/ some substance or other/ ten times none in the arithmetic of nothing/ in syllable of/ nocturne blind yet in what fashion/ bled dry as of departure yet nothing has/ this is the station of/ recoil of X./ it marks the spot/ ( a naked eye pares away the night‟s sky bind away of all significance or shadow/ gesture hurling out the blind light of the exhume till splice cut close the flesh‟s silently…)…[54] times [17] will be a nonsig-nificant determinant towards claustrologicism and phobic calculatorism where X stands for a vector within a nonroom of indeterminacy still. "a pulse almost/ no/ some substance or other here comes the blood rising in the parched throat/ some distance to trace/ as if to/ recoil step trace/ as if to say/ non-speech is best", X also a shifting feature each time an obtrusively illustration of possible blockage yet rather the sketchy microtraceology of a mosaicing tableau forever gliding absorbant matter of exorbitance signifying nothing. heed the world in its poker-chambers dig the earth until its granular soul unhidden lays bare an ore of aired ochre shubewise unearthed the granite holes fracked. here we're already vanished or,ore,here the reminesce of this mythic pancontinent monotectonic paragaea with the great dead center an endless desert the size of our big ocean the silence of what never heard was these nonantropocene stretches of uncoordinated magnetism and needless as evident disdirection. the X marker each time of arrival again of what then was unto these new massive geodesics chemified earth this short phase of putrid antropology disappeared already forgotten almost before it hadtet begun. the grace the contingently sprawled out patches of postvegetation as seen by the restanimals now clotted in arcane vacuoles in almost residual antitheatre moaning and migrating to newer grounds unseen and nonscientific strict for ages to come the meteorology and protopostpaleology like mists falling over neopresence and pasts postcataclysmic hyperevents unseen. the world a place of desolation destitution after the halfly halted unstoppable entropic spasms laying bare almost the magnetic grid and its irreciprocal deaf shiftings and disheveled patterns seemingly following more solar regimens than the inner fireiron amendments. we're long gone now having become one of the Xes a calibrative moment on the rim of the ruler of time hovering inbetween unseen stardust and what forgotten is. flagghelative flash within an unruly cosmic ocean not exclusively of hydrogendioxide and black seasnow in drafts of black treads endlessly sinking,that,as also less directive and imaginistic in unheimlichen voltage nettings webbing around hijacking a possible future bereft of all probabilistics just numbed out floating in insignificant etherspheres seeking nothing nevermore the vanishings.
…string dangles as of gallows/ noose/ snap shot pull/ light
absent/ exhume of dark/ non-flesh of gathered of/ (breathes)/ nothing
but/ out reach of/ stench retch/ bile of some disclosed obstruct/ vomiting in
dry silences/ snap shot pull/ having searched/ light again/ shear of carcass
kisses to the eye socket/ bleeding of/ strangled air of closure headless as if
to ask/ string dangles/ silence either way/ a dead scream of echoing teeth/
clear no/ snap shot pull/ exhume of dark/ pulse yes or no/ irreplaceable
sickness/ blind as if to murmur through a brail of frenzy/ nothing but/ viewed
by none/ removal as/ (exhales)/ a sneer cut from the cut of flesh/ raw
meat flowerings/ string dangles in the dark/ perhaps the static/ hence/
showering abasement/ drift of lack/ snapshot clear/ ever-night/ balm of/ light
what light a cadaver‟s silence in/ vibrating yet/ in horror of/ asks what none
blind light of see/ pulsating all the while/ extravagant/ shadow yes or no as
if to bind by the or of it/ (breathes)/ walls of shit/ blind cum/
blood/an asking of/ echoing piss of laughter/ give or take a spillage of/
syringe of night/ the razor clarity of mutilation/ string dangles as of noose/
(exhales)/ snapshot pull/ flash and then undone/ bowel collapse/ the pulse‟s
momentary collapse/ lays down stands up again/ not a step/ bound by the snap of
shot of light of/ until static again/ laughter again/ echoing out from out of/
utter dark all the same/ what trace to follow/ bitter snap dark of shot else/
marked by the/ opulent as death/ in utter dark of glimmer naught/ none of which
till absence of/ silence erased in the chamber of eye's forgotten/ momentary/ a trace of
carcass and the blind sight horror of/ embrace/ step forth no not steps to take/
paralysis all/ as of…/ snap shot pull once again/ once more of the blind
circumference of/ steps forth in light of disregard/ impress of/ gauge/ nothing
but yet stillness arc of the benign stepping forth in the/ (breathes)/ raw meat
blossoming out of the cage of rib what of it/ no end in that or of/ distant
lights/ pace pace no flowering head of/ till illuminatum of scream slashing out
in to the light what light or of/ ever the distance/ sinew yes and the bone
exposed/ the shadow of which having fallen finally/ snap shot pull/ utter dark…[49]
where the relevance of bacon shall always be a disrespect for the own medium a
punkesthetics really to,not revel in or in modii autosycophant swimming in
endless cycles of selfpornography yet with either large knifings or red over
black and black over red brushings redefine the endproduce timely,a painting,of
what it is this neoplague of the twentyfirst and what it is a
"denotation",a downward notation much like the solely transscriptions
of medieval monks and the fixxed iconology of the hinduist pantheon or buddhist
figures and taoist watercolours of cherryblossoms ad nauseam yet,a very defined
and nowhere flattered image of "world" "world"
"world". the daily dairy produce will however rather be that of
"war" "war",the depiction, downward directed imag-ination
of these "worlds in war",ever so charred so visceral graphic mauled
dismembered where precisely the crassness of this beholds mirrorings of a
turmoilworld,an endworld, world which even can loose itself in cinematic
vaudeville of unforseen childrens'
gamemovements of "triple
jump" the world presenting itself in pornoramas of erratic advertisement
terrorismsequencings and variative billboardover bearingcrypsis the world no
place anymore as with the zoovegetative vanishings slowly and gradually,
documented and quantified the antropocene will dwindle and disappear at last
too. there is an automutulative trace of events ad hoc and serially informing
the machinistics of these last sociuses under the guide of
"improvement" and "progression" and "completion"
working from the outside in and from within out,as robert kennedy wrote in
"the enemy within",a kind of entropy mercurializing our selfbloating
and selfaggrandizing environments made to measure of an all-encompassing
fatal-futile,radical-ridicule,economist-ecologist,historic hysteric
hyper-machine of antsociety on steroids not aimed for littler worth or honorary
heritage just speeding ahead towards a hieronymus bosch filled world of dragons
demons and draculas,with straight faced conservatists santorums and pinstriped
suited upfucks with sleek merchandizing snaketalk,as brilliantly imagined in
the paintings of both bosch and bacon and now we have now and their psychotic
prophecies seemed to have gained a weighty evidentiality.
20...
„I abandon myself to peace,
to the point of annihilation…‟
--Georges Bataille
…exigency of/ as if to snuff the shadow‟s reclamation/ dense
ruthless blinded to the point of tears/ a head cupped in skin-stripped
fingertips/ blossoming from out of the blood what nocturne given less or less
of it/ ashen as/ split the writs or of in reclamation/ the centre cannot hold/
(in-breathe of shadow‟s claim)/ the night‟s miscarried lung aches of the
solvent disregard of the teeth/ as if to say of it what speech as if to say of
it died down till reverberate of echo‟s retract of disappearance/ in collide it
seeks the outwardly of some solace of/ closer to death yet further than/ like
the locked spinal affluence of some stun approximation/ says no the text it
does not matter/ it rests easily upon the sliced the eyeball sliced across
indefatigable image/ a restless coil of disharmony/ where the word is jag/
-ged/ spit ragged/ shard of/ dense black of/ tatse-taste/ locked of what else
to follow on from given no/ begin again/ given no/ as if to snuff the shadow‟s
reclaim/ to the point of tears therein the echoes of what it may or may not be
become/ dead waters/ emptied bottles strewn like bled lights across a dusty
shelf/ or the discarded concentration of/ all melded together asking of the
bridge that was never crossed and the love that was never lost of or or/ the
centre has never held/ in or out of speech what a gift till claim/ something
lessened as if to say/ to the point of annihilation wiping the bile and bloody vomit from the chest/
here one has passed/ idolatry/ snuff movie finger tips and the ice of some
given bled or disregard as if it matters a fuck/ the cold sharp stamp of shadow
biting into denuded flesh what matter/ it continues/ it is said/ it continues
it is said/ having abandoned oneself to pieces/ to the point of utter
inebriation/ regret locks the door and burns the waxen key/ what matter/ live
or of the other and yet of what pace/ climbing/ as if the sky were attainable/
give or take a step or two/ this is a dead text it will not suffer itself it is
riddled with the maggot of the pulse‟s aberrations/ it kicks up the bloody
dusts up into its own face it kicks its own teeth in it does not matter to
itself/ it is a barrage of none/ the easy jagged petals of what/ blinded of eye
the eye sliced devoured this is no arithmetic/ or/ not a trace/ give or take a/
aching for the/ yes or no no call to choose/ to the point of peace/ to the
point of annihilation/ devouring one‟s own fingers alone in the dark… [55]
'das Bedürfnis,zu den Gräbern zu laufen und auf den Gräbern zu frieren wie ein
Hund. '--Thomas Bernhard "the center has never held" "this is a
dead text it will not suffer itself it is riddled with [the pulse of the
faggot's] aberrations" acenters of hollywoodian nightlife whirring moaning
roaring more,like a sheffield pittsburgh factory,an ijmuiden lille factory of
ironore distribution cinematically falsified unto filmsets ironsatiated wests
and easts and their "once upon a time",souths and norths,an endless
nightlife in deserted santa monica-and beverly blvds yet with the debris,the
afterset,the late shift still scuffling on normandie ave whereever the bars are
open 24/7 the sleeze crackling forth like som landcatched amoeba an acenter of
dissociated members producing nonsignificant yet loud noise and non-descript
pissbehavior for starlettes and pimps, hustlers and divas. even the tarset on
laBrea never held so much layers of memory and intrigue,seedy under-ground and
inimpenetrable vacuoles of furlined vaults and dead chimps,walls of max
factor's facial cake and jose ebers dead lacquered hairbombs. the cities of
angels and new highrises,european cities of metal eyes and over layered
biblicisms,nineteenth century iron-welts and bolts extending earth toward an
ever-changing sky,the cities then of movies and butch-eries,gambling lore and
purification and consumption of gin unto korsakovian limit/s/lessnesses,the
acenters of the cities then all splayed out on everchanging maps with covariative
geodesic urbanoradiary discoordinates give the surfacial zone of life or the
layer of mould we form (horkheimer) temporary noneffable frozenness as
techniqued in area 51 cryogenistic cryogenome labs of coma and stasis,crypsis
and catatonia,the dynamic immobility (benjamins 'dialektik im stillstand') of
which some asymptote representant of 'life doesn't live' (as cited by adorno)
forms a forever incentive to keep searching for a neopostnihilisme
éblouissante. max factor made up the waxen faces of hollywood the future
executives masklike faces of modern time, nonstaring you in the eye bc
"there is nobody there" and 'in his diaries Pinsent wrote about
shopping for furniture with Wittgenstein in Cambridge when the latter was given
rooms in Trinity; most of what they found in the stores was not minimalist
enough for Wittgenstein's aesthetics: "I went and helped him interview a
lot of furniture at various shops ...
It was rather amusing: he is terribly fastidious and we led the shopman a
frightful dance, Vittgenstein [sic] ejaculating "No—Beastly!" to 90
percent of what he shewed [archaic spelling] us!'. "Wovon man nicht
sprechen kann, darüber muß man schweigen. What we cannot speak about we must
pass over in silence." (W.)
You can get "Code #4 Texts" from Oneiros Books
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