from ‘N in Scrabble’: no. 29, ‘Never Had The Balls’

[As mentioned in the corona-update, publication of my forthcoming pamphlet (or book, really), N in Scrabble, has been delayed, for obvious reasons. I am therefore undertaking the daily posting of selections from it. In spirit, anyway: we’ll see how ‘daily’ this turns out to be…]

Never Had The Balls

This but not this instead this as this half of the face of your side of whatever happens to be at the point of all possible points as this least obtuse angle given at face value and called here for no other reason than itself at this chance moment taken without giving a toss about the chance of this being anything other than this or so to say a kiss regardless of duration in which your eyes could stay closed as indefinitely as the indefiniteness of this.

[nothing (Ø) operates A=B or whatever as it operates on itself and only symbols can say that]

That which is expected makes predictably the mistake of seeing formlessness as anything other than a form confusing and conflating freedom here as that which will take your hands wherever you choose to put them and give unlanding gestures to respond and reprimand that and only that pointed out as intent when it is in fact denied and reassuringly so with the same movements that caused the wave to swell against which you hold all that is not that.

[making the level best (ℵ1) feel like whatever ℵ0 means necessitates a healthy Platonic confusion]

There has all the charm of a song about a product of circumstance at the window to anywhere but there knocked upon and taking as much time as it needs to reveal the full recourse of its tension and greeting between you and the essence of there calling and marking itself not as itself but as the time and movement which one might call vital which it has been everywhere but there as the place you want to stay yet keeping here with all the thereness of there without the map of the mother leading you and keeping you there.

[worrying whether domination (A⊆B) is actually A⊂B or whatever is the definition of fiddling]

Then becomes and beckons both the consequence and cause of each and every possible place of possible place and cliché which as then as now presents itself not to itself but to anyone but you and then refines the means and desire to the same precise misdeed as memory then settles for the sofa where now and then a cliché of a cuddle could occur taken as a picture then developed into then.

[asking the same question of marriage (A⋂B) and happy-place A⋃B is more like it or whatever]

Though among many others it and itself are though part of a group of many others impossible without this though this and here are very likely possible without those others but to call the irreducible love without stopping to think is though perhaps not quite the best you could do though it comes close and perhaps the point and the point of you was to call it love and after the fact want it to be so and though it hurts to do violence work out what the name means after it’s stuck but getting stuck in the first place is harder than it looks though.

[don’t mistake falling blossom and streaks of flayed skin or whatever for anything profound or essential (A⊖B) they’re most certainly A×B and everything that might entail now just get lost]

(oct 2019)

Virtual Commodities, Material Dreams

Obscene title aside ‘The Imagined Band’ is now up on the Youtube, both as a single full album video with vaguely accurate timestamps and a playlist of individual songs. Also check your preferred artist exploitation matrix / streaming service if you wish to supply me with some undeserved pennies.

50 hAnD-nUmBeReD “””lImItEd EdItIoN””” CDs are available to order from Bandcamp for £6 + P&P (the price of a Wetherspoons pint over the cost of production). 为人民服务 !!!

 

from ‘N in Scrabble’: no. 28, ‘Fuckabout’

[As mentioned in the corona-update, publication of my forthcoming pamphlet (or book, really), N in Scrabble, has been delayed, for obvious reasons. I am therefore undertaking the daily posting of selections from it. In spirit, anyway: we’ll see how ‘daily’ this turns out to be…]

Fuckabout

There is a question of articles to consider,
heavy under the cast-off all too lightly
and making cheap work of the rejoinder
reminding the eager of the
    specific nature of trees,

where we, and with a hardened sense of
we, cannot be said to conspire
but step aside and here in a certain light,
where it all looks too much like the
    particular incident now recalled,

give some quarter to the run-over,
the bleating and the (I suppose)
harmed by not half an answer
never resolving but enough to
    forget what seems once an end.

(feb 2020, premptivisation #5)

SELF-EDIT: A Prosimiscellaneous Poem

SELF-EDIT

What’s real, tedious enquiry? Associating embarrassment with the breaking through. It is not really necessary to point out that this is embarrassing but it is however important to correct ‘through’ to ‘down’. The subject of this is itself but it must be pretended otherwise. Note the careful elision, impersonal passive voice: is this not precisely what this is trying to avoid? It is in fact useful to begin like this as everything may now be arrived at by digression.

“Under the roar walls ride their
warriors and that unstoppable
young lord without a sword who

was a murderer. …”

Grotesque business is always tautological and a necessary demonstration of why it is so. That’s the truncation of the thing, letting it all get out of hand where it can be made base by superfluous and multidirectional reification. What none of this accounts for is the possibility of a gap. Perhaps ‘through’ was in fact the right word. Sometimes negative capability can be arrived at too quickly. But that’s the question: how quickly is too quickly? Quickness is form and form is quality.

“To overturn the theatre of representation into the order of desiring-production: this is the whole task of schizoanalysis.”

A whole other method of going ‘down’. There must be other points of reference. This is, in itself, another assumption. Interrogation begins when it is realised to be just another form of letting go. Using something intended for something else lets go of the fear that something else will be worse off without it. Shoring up is a mode of ressentiment, the wrong sort of insurance. The first stop of observation: that obvious moment of something — ‘why do I want it to be interesting?’ In the garden sits the hermetic subject, having moved back home. Thus, interrogation.

“That you cannot get in since the entrance is the obstacle itself is what it means for once to end at emptiness.”

Taking a break to consider the possibility of outside. The length is what it means to die of it. In between there is an intoxicating indefinite which, in any other dimension, would appear as a simple plateau. Long moments are loose moments but this space should not too hurriedly be filled. There are some words that should not reside there. There are some words only there can hope to find.

“The breeding of an animal that can promise — is not this just that very paradox of a task which nature has set itself in regard to man?”

The difference between continuing and starting something similar is perhaps the most fundamental space of decision making available to the human subject. ‘How long is long?’ is a useless question, answered in the performance of its asking. The question of how much outside it lets in is much more relevant, and at this of a relevance only to itself as any reference to the content of outside beyond acknowledging the flat presence of outside constitutes an inclusion of such content and thus compromises the entire exercise. At this point to try to inject or consume to gather momentum would be a defeat none of this could ever afford. The defeat it can afford reveals itself as the end and only once that end is reached.

“Don’t you know yet? Fling the emptiness out of your arms
into the spaces we breathe; perhaps the birds
will feel the expanded air with more passionate flying.”

Use everything but only when it needs to be used, in the process realising this is almost always now. Sometimes this is offensive to the senses. Sometimes this is offensive to others. Do not take either as pointing in the right direction. The declarative should not ossify into the didactic: it can contain questions in the pose of the rhetorical that are in fact intended for the impossible and are thus instead directed to an audience. This is the root of all evil but remember what that means. Terror bears a dialectical relationship to arousal. There is a tickling sensation that could go either way or just persist for eternity. Responsibility is, unfortunately, deciding what to do about this.

“Happy those who suffer as unified selves — whom anxiety alters but doesn’t divide, who believe at least in unbelief, and who can sit in the sun without mental reservations.”

All that matters is defining itself positively against the last, the real charge of the bright and blank screen of consistency over the business of the world pierced only by the product of dreams. This is starting to become a routine. In attempting to avoid this all that matters is never resolving itself to a thematic synthesis, never looking directly at the Sun though fixating with an intensity beyond perception on all that stand out in it.

“the capsule upended in the earth

the eternal poem in motion through time

attuned to the curve of the zodiac”

There is nowhere left to go but repetition elsewhere once the realisation ‘down’ and ‘through’ are the same thing arrives not with a hit associated with realisation but with the event of an exploding into vista of both new knowledge of the unknown and a better quality of light on the known. If this is achieved truly there will be no question of whether or not it is necessary to ‘show your working’ as everything will speak for itself. The question of when to stop is a potential paradox better seen as a productive circle, a question of whether stopping can be adequately decided in the same ‘hot’ and ‘heavy’ moments that animate the thing to anything and everything but.

[Quotations from R. F. Langley, Deleuze and Guattari, Keston Sutherland, Nietzsche, Rilke, Fernando Pessoa, and Chris Torrance.]

 

from ‘N in Scrabble’, no. 27, ‘Field Retardant’

[As mentioned in the corona-update, publication of my forthcoming pamphlet (or book, really), N in Scrabble, has been delayed, for obvious reasons. I am therefore undertaking the daily posting of selections from it. In spirit, anyway: we’ll see how ‘daily’ this turns out to be…]

Field Retardant

‘Toujours à respirer si nous en périssons.’
— Mallarmé

Even starting is a
(and see already)
matter of ingestion and
bleak time ingest-
ion making it all
(yes it all) to
say what it can’t
(for it can’t anything)
see sea Selotape
to the sweat of
brass-mast metaphor
(material of which is)
easy to come by when
(get ready) to

take a picture
of her, properly
with chemicals
touched to the moment’s mouth.

(dec 2019)

from ‘N in Scrabble’: no. 26, ‘Collage Bandwagon’

[As mentioned in the corona-update, publication of my forthcoming pamphlet (or book, really), N in Scrabble, has been delayed, for obvious reasons. I am therefore undertaking the daily posting of selections from it. In spirit, anyway: we’ll see how ‘daily’ this turns out to be…]

Collage Bandwagon

Talk to you soon, fear
of it, and the verb shakes
on the stem of else, and there
where it’s to be seen and
yes the very same sens
ible young in that
depth-of-surface in-
habited by the photo, also.

Six of each and then
to the tapestry, a very
look over there and
‘all that sort of thing’.
It steps to the one
and the one is singing

‘sorry if you felt that’
    because it dare not show.