The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

July 16, 2005


vlf audio


3 vlf audio recordings in cement room; probe4 = guitar acoustically
coupled only; nervoussystem = heart/body sounds; probe3 = local ambient

to be honest i haven't heard anything like these; they are elephantine (in
the sense of elephant hearing bandwidth) raised 71-80%

if vlf radio = digital collapse/decay (and does it?); vlf audio = analog
spread across the floor of the imaginary real

http://www.asondheim.org/probe3.mp3
http://www.asondheim.org/probe4.mp3
http://www.asondheim.org/nervoussystem.mp3


=

- for Alan Seeger


there is something one will always know
our generation is the last to go

we're born, great-grandparents whisper down like ghosts
then pass away, we learn that there are hosts
of others, those we will not know,
our generation is the last to go

grandparents age, wither, die before their time
we're on their hinge, we're entering our prime,
or so we think, there's something more they know,
our generation is the last to go

our burdened parents follow us, their friends
surround us, until it's clear their ends
aren't ours, we wither in their dying, for they know
our generation is the last to go

and now, we're almost there, our children know
our generation is the last to go

In lieu of book or interview - a summing-up:


My work deals with the relationship of consciousness to the world
vis-a-vis the mediation of problematic and 'dirty' symbolic domains.

My work deals with the wonder of the world as new bandwidths, vistas,
histories and geographies, are made available.

My work deals with the problems of foundations, Absolute, primordial,
originary, in terms of debris and scattering.

My work is a continuous dialog, itself scattered among distributions.

My work evades biography, diary, autobiography, the anecdotal, whilst
plunging into the simulacra of personal narratives.

My work exceeds itself, resonates with itself, with others; the others
inhabit my work which curls around fictivity.

My work is my obsession, to an unhealthy degree; however, when filled with
despair, there are moments of exaltation as distant shores are glimpsed.

My work is fearful of being found out; it is worried close to death.

My work is a stripping away of irrelevance; my back to the wall, I inhabit
the world.

My work is a constant meditation on the world, on its diffuseness, its
encapsulations, circumlocutions, circumscriptions.

My work has pretensions towards the philosophical and the scientific; I
strip my work away from my work as well.

My work touches language, body, and sexuality, all in relation of an inert
real.

My work insists on the fragility of the good, of stasis, of permanence; it
embraces the plasma, is swallowed by holocaust, dissolves in detritus.

My work covers the same ground repeatedly.

My work is simultaneously excess and denudation, artifice and natural
deployment, ornament and structure, text and subtext, suture and wound.

My work is simultaneously hypothesis and hypothetical, a proffering or
wager.

My work inscribes my work, deconstructing inscription and the walls
surrounding the Torah.

My work hedges and devours death; I work furiously, death will allow even
this and one other final flourish.

My work penetrates to the state of inversion; what is negative, is
positive, and what is positive, negative.

My work is based on the fissure, not the inscription; it is based on
substance, not dyad, on ruptured continuities, not positives and
negatives.

My work is a collapsed ecstatic; my work is a collapsed aesthetic.

My work presses the systemic until it breaks; my work is a broken work,
construing breakage, irruption of subtext into text, symbolic into
subtext, substance into symbolic; my work breaks the inscriptive chain
itself.

My work carries equivalence across media, genidentity across protocols and
virtualities, sexualities across avatars and bodies, politics into the
flesh-heart and ideological strangulation.

My work is discontinuous on the surface, tending towards stylistic
extremes.

My work explores epistemologically and ontologically shifted bandwidths;
my work brings the uttermost into the vicinity.

My work explores the desperate exigencies of the flesh, the shock-tactics
of annihilation-creation, the degeneration of generators.

My work tends towards the unaccountable, the unaccounted-for; my work
emphasizes the inconceivable.

My work inhabits originary past and indeterminate future, locating the
plasma at the former, and the final outpost of substance at the latter.

My work runs from wavelengths universe-spanning to particle wave-lengths,
listening everywhere; my work is a reporting from the limits.

My work inhales information-annihilation, being-annihilation, its own
absence and every other.

My work inflates, exhausts; I have a desperate relation to my work; I tend
my work in the meager hopes of its survival beyond me.

My work is its own; my work is centered in the dissipated locus of the
histories of the self; my work is beyond my work.

My work occurs within non-aristotelian logics, within logics of non-
distributivity; my work occurs within dusts and radiations; my work exists
in relation to the death of the symbolic.

My work decodes my work; my work brings the code of work, the code of
labor, to the surface.

My work is codework, operational research for the flesh; my work abjures
absolute frameworks, definitive infinities.

My work explores the inaccessibly high-finite, the inaccessibly low-
finite, numeric flux dissolution into physical-material real.

My work is the future of philosophy, the future of intellectual work, of
the propriety of the intellectual; my work is the afterthought of the
past, the afterthought of the future, the thought of thought and its
draining.

'My work' or 'my work' but one may say '*' in lieu of the phrase; my work
is a place-holder, shifter.

My work is neither this nor that; my work is not both this or that; my
work is vulnerable.

My work is analog-stumble, digital clarification; the real is inescapable
and production is discrete; my work is never done.

My work is trauma-therapeutic; my work is beyond that, bypasses that,
circumvents that; my work is unconscious, of the dream of the real, of the
dream of a real; my work stands on its own, ignores me; my work is in
spite of me; my work is a collocation; my work circumscribe confusion; my
work is insistent; my work is philosophy in the highest and lowest degree;
my work is the world's unconscious; my work is the true world of the
dissipation of worlds, of the imminence and immanence of death; my work is
a bulwark and a fiction; my work is non-fiction, languorous; my work is
neurasthenic; my work is the neurosis of the world; my work is never
done.


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