Message-ID: <Pine.NEB.4.44.0209030233110.21460-100000@panix2.panix.com>
From: Alan Sondheim <sondheim@panix.com>
To: Cyb <cybermind@listserv.aol.com>,
"WRYTING-L : Writing and Theory across Disciplines" <WRYTING-L@LISTSERV.UTORONTO.CA>
Subject: ~/./
Date: Tue, 3 Sep 2002 02:33:25 -0400 (EDT)
~/./ I am an assassin-in-servitude. you will get down on my knees. you will offer yourself to me. everything i do is mine. within the book, the writing is porous. writing is never linear, never collapses. writing is communality, whispering everywhere in the world, everyone listening. you will fabricate your assassin. "My assassin!" he exclaimed. "Think of the ring of it!" She thought it was fantastic as well, the duplicity of ownership, as his fabrication moved slowly towards... him. "This is welcoming news!" she cried. With his last breath, he agreed with her; Golem or Robot, it was all the same. The book would slowly close, opening to the world of 9.5 millimeter film - always recognizable by the sprocket-holes in the middle, between the frames. "Why on earth!?" he asked. "Because," she replied, "by all accounts, this creates more space for the image, which can now reach across the entire width of the film; 9.5 millimeter images are close to the size of 16mm itself!" He turned back towards the Cien Su Vun (Hakka dialect): - the long mistake of the earth - the surmounting of faith should never be capsized - impossible to measure the vessel of desire - the net tolls [ ... ] - sad, of sorrow, sorrowful - Of the Infinite, it matters not. Neither Internal or External. Of truth, this is what I have constructed: the sphere within the sphere - both distorted by desire - both convoluted, introverted, partially collapsed - the nude woman standing by the door, the french apron covering nothing - tiling everywhere - the enormous stuttered movement of the camera against the twin cylindrical helices of exfoliating objects - these objects of faces - these objects - swarms - asteroids - bees - bacteria - sunshine-avalanches - dusts -"the image worth its obscurity, covered, the incredible movement of the camera within the spheres, again and again, the slow breathing of the realm simultaneously open and closed to the world, anime / anime, deflecting to the Mickey Mouse image stutter through the 1938 Bingoscope 9.5mm hand-cranked projector, inaugural flashlight image flicker on unplastered wall - wildly movement, the woman caught in mid-moment, desire, the apron pushed aside - the cause or reaon - ideal or inspiration - tanach convolution. Now of the assassin - the emptiness of politics - "I abjure him," she said; "he's got nothing to do with me." For a moment, I was frightened; surely I'd agree! I did, tearfully, offering a prayer that he would go away... He did, bringing an end to the film, early black-and-white Mickey covering and uncovering an object partially obscured by the deterioration of the image... ===