Saturday, December 30, 2006

It's a drag to keep uploading to youtube and finding a mess results, no matter what the compression etc. Either I'm doing something wrong or working too hard on the image itself which always seems to appear damaged. In the meantime I've been adding to the autobiography again; this is an ill-formed habit, and the results are probably far too spiked. In any case, you can check that out at - it's still as honest as I can make it, useless for all that....

Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Rilke's Death from development, of angels, welkin reminders, of what might have been, here, among other valleys' roots like magma, poured spirit one and then another; furious angels! invisible, whose arms illuminate the night harrowed from animals wounded, animals dying; among all orders, a command. With what might one counter the thin edge of the Real?; with what countenance?; with what countenance will Any listen? Multiples move, among multitudes; crossed by elk, by deer, by wolves, kestrel-binding holding fields (these wait for No One)

What hovers, soars (these move for No One)

Monday, December 25, 2006

Heidegger's Hut

poised among the fourfold, the lure of new man, new development, and yet... closer to fourfold, among uncounted elements, unaccounted-for. for often I have approached this live or in dream to little avail; I would wait for clearing weather, for the world to happen, for technology to disappear at the base. Heidegger remains there above his troubled politics, of which there is no counting-four; we are close to hearth, we are embers among the dying worlds. Soon the snows will melt, glaciers disappear; the hut stays on a lure, overlooking resettled life, spaces a thousand kilometers long, an empyrean high. I cannot imagine a world such as this, life in hut corner, close to warmth, old wooden bench and bed, columnar spirit emerging to heavens' other worlds. We live in imaginary solace, his hut our own, released to the elements and beyond, transformed. There is no journey in the journey, no dream in the dream. One has life only for so much sorrow. Glow remains the last of our eyes. Hearth warms, beyond.

Sunday, December 24, 2006

starling no name shiftless performance

we are speaking wires for you.
we are 'performance' and 'no name,' shiftless.
shiftless, we are 'fame.'
a tail: 'high-tale it out of here.'
goodbye. leave us alone.

Saturday, December 23, 2006

Alias - One has an alias - the connotation is that of subterfuge (but not necessarily). Feyman write about alias as a question of raster - think of alias, aliasing, as the return of the repressed of the real - what can't be accommodated is transformed by the upper ceiling of the bandwidth into rhythmic structuring - of course if the unaccommodated - one might say unaccountable - is itself within a relatively steady-state. Look for alias / aliasing in the real, for the location of what might pass for primordial - what whispers in spite of everything.

Aliases and rhythm - but given the potential of alterity, a face without content, a face elsewhere than the Other - the rupture itself, aliasing itself, may take on the appearance of a masquerade (i.e. of the second order). Hence what is apparent may be the extrusion or residue of insufficient bandwidth, and if we generalize, we might find that the appearance of the real is always already alias, construed as appearance, forced into its return.

Is sampling always inadequate? Don't we make these decisions in the first place, in relation to human perception? Think of the alias as a wound - wound as gateway - or diacritical mark. Here is where the digital meets the analog - or at least where catastrophe meets emission - where emission is channeled...

There is something deep here, more than meets the I ...

Friday, December 22, 2006

If every position demarcates an other, it is noise that welcomes the
world. What will the world do with an other? Surely both are bypassed,
welcoming remains, demarcation a ruptured effusive memory.

_Uns_ wird nur das Laermen angeboten. (RMR)
To _us_ only the noise is proffered. (trans. Norton) harmonic minor c harmonic minor c harmonic minor c echo echo echo echo chromatic w noise reduction chromatic w noise reduction

harmonica salt lake city session snow out 29 degrees

_Hier_ ist des Saeglichenit, _hier_ seine Heimat. (RMR)
_Here_ is the time for the Tellable, _here_ is its home. (trans. Spender)

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

topOutsetlong leftOutsetlong bottomOutsetlong rightOutsetlong 8BIM
8BIM 8BIM b34r 7GWgw AQaq" dEU6te '7GWgw Z^]#t =2 q
Vm$Vhs 7I$O mLs" U8xOv EL~a 8Gt. ?6?9Z `mlk VXKC} DY.m`8 ~k3> lRFC Cmk$
CCO/ c,s"^kxdH#v 3k?5 WXul r]Xi< ;Qlix S,Lm $CK\8 j?6' hM-7led w7{6~r
YcZ VlcZG mOa%
%bW]6 C}/.""{ 8BIM 8BIM id='W5M0MpCehiHzreSzNTczkc9d'?> x:xmptk='XMP toolkit 3.0-28, framework 1.6'> rdf:RDF
WWII above
self portrait as a Bodhisattva

losing my way in the milky forests of confessiion ▚ᨋ8c0;ᤆa2;e6;ᙞ&#f686;ھLf6;ሰ

o lord forgive me, such agony as done
is this a found script or one i created ? does it really matter? given the relatively small number of symbols, it would be reasonable to apply coding to it - a matrix/template that might slide across the apparent grid, producing meaning. one might think of this as a universal machine applicable to texts of any length; it becomes increasingly evident that meaning is a construct across symbols, neither within them nor within the dictionary translation / transliterations.

here, in this example, only in this particular example, one has a section of what seems to be an infinite text, a text in the manner of a bandage or suture across the wound of a sememe (what reads as a sememe); a wound within, unconstrued within, the imaginary. think of this as the lid of the pre-linguistic - not exactly mode, but a potential for interpretation, sliding out and against itself, as soon as one is found. nothing holds here, not even "here," not even place or placement. the lesson, where we are, where we are not, is always already unlearned.

Monday, December 18, 2006

It's a dim day today, I've shared my family again with all of the Democrats who would have voted Green in the last election, you remember the one when I found that cute dog on the street the other day, well it turned out it belonged to someone on the next block so I returned it with great happiness. Now it's raining out and I'm waiting for Madge to call, well Made and I don't get along so well, do we, Tim? Tim's Madge's husband, and we've gone the rounds a few times I can tell you. My mom's always saying "you never know" but I always reply "you sure do don't you" just like when she says "I'm going to call dad" and I say "what are you going to call him" and she says "i'm going to call him dad" or something like that. Now it's starting to rain out or at least it's getting it's getting darker and that smudgy feeling when you look out the window. The traffic light's changed again, it always does that this time of day. (13 megabytes) (smaller, not so clear)

Sunday, December 17, 2006

Thursday, December 14, 2006

(photos by Azure Carter - Nyon, Rilke's grave)

Here's a treat! now click on it! No, wait a minute, don't do it! Honest, all hell will break loose. You did it, didn't you? Now don't do it again! Really! I know what I'm talking about! Take this seriously! You really don't want to do it now, do you?! Damn, you did it again! Well, here we are! What now?

(I'm waiting for the images to upload. Wait a bit now. I don't think you'll do it? Useless, isn't it? I'm stll waiting... It's going to go on a bit! Ah, there, that's better! You can stop now, give your hand a rest!)

....r, m....i. .i...e .....i.. missi.. ..eir, i.s.r...i..
m....i., .y...i., mem.ry, i.i..! .. .. .. is s. m....i.
... .ri.e, ... ....'s ... i.s:..r..y:...:m....i.:...y: ..i.. .. ...;
.y....ermi.; .e..e..y ....r.s ..e m....i.; .e..e..y ....r.s .y....ermi.;
.e..e..y ....r.s ..e m....i.; .e..e..y ....r.s r..e.ess ...

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

So I've been working on an autobiography which began with a perl program allowing me to make date entries and sorting them.
This won't ever be finished. It's as accurate as I can make it but this is a disclaimer to the effect that the statements shouldn't be taken at face value; my memory may be playing tricks and certainly some of the dates are incorrect. Please send me corrections of course. There is also new work on YouTube, please check out.

Monday, December 11, 2006

I continue to put work up on YouTube. There have been 550 hits in the past few days - which is pitifully small, but larger than almost any experimental video/film audience. Almost all the video I've seen on YouTube is rendered poorly; I'm definitely going to trie other sites - everything depends on compression of course.

Meanwhile check out YouTube under my name.

And I've been thinking - working with too many bodies at this point; I have to return to writing as well, the theoretical materials that might or might not come out of thinking about LISP. Notions of gathering, shades of Badiou again. But I've also been sidetracked - reading the diario of Columbus' first voyage, abstracted by de la Casas - from which I am sure the world flows...

Friday, December 08, 2006

Some images from the Alps. It seems a dream we were there; I'd rather be there, now, than anywhere else. There was an incredible amount left to do. Images of Foofwa d'Imobilite, Maud Liardon, Azure Carter.

Quite cold here. More work is up on YouTube. I'd urge you to go to the page for more pristine but longer-to-download video.

I've been playing around with LISP; I'm not good with programming, but interested. LISP programs are within parentheses; I've started to write a 'phenomenology of the parenthetical' - when the subordinate is literally all there is.

I've been rethinking the sexuality which characterizes a lot of my work. I can't put it up here; I can't put it on YouTube and given the repressive climate in the US, I shouldn't put it anywhere. Sexuality is completely overdetermined; there's no way to make it 'work' except by giving in totally to it. And to do this eliminates the framework - the parenthetical- altogether. In fact this elimination recuperates not only the real, but untrammeled desire, that is desire against the productions of the law, whatever one might think of justice. So the work becomes hard to see.
It is a contamination of vision, not the visual. And so I'm thinking through this. And it's incredibly tiring to think about this; it goes on and on - like Ourboros, you're back where you started from with problematic feelings and audience responses. Who would think, from outside the species or culture, that so much swirls around the reproductive? But of course it's here that the Other appears.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Work on YouTube

Some work moved to youtube where it might be easier to watch - I've also
tried for because they pay and we're desperate - they pay if
there are enough viewers - no art category - something about cool stuff -
anyway none of the uploads worked; it would read my .mp4 or .mov files
which went thru easily on youtube. Meanwhile on youtube everything's
blurred out, but at least there in one form or another. And anyway, enjoy.
And tell me what's wrong with metacafe. And send lots of money. Seriously.
Lots and lots of money. - Alan

PS and tell you friends about it and everyone will be happy.





doomed dancer


bulb1.mp4 avatar interior

duetavatargrange avatar exterior

Tube Scan (vacuum tube deconstruction)

agzither - Alpine Zither / Access Grid

I've now completed editing something like 50 short videopieces from the Switzerland trip, and then there are combinations to come with the abstracted imagery from the VEL (virtual environments lab) at WVU. I feel strongly about working furiously - I never know how much time I have left, and it's better to work through every idea while there's still a mind to think, mouth to speak, fingers to type. More and more will always come; I hope only that the ideas, however poorly expressed, hold for at least a week after I'm gone. If anyone reads them. If any work survives. If any of us do.