The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive


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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...


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