Message-ID: <Pine.NEB.4.64.0701150029350.28866@panix3.panix.com>
From: Alan Sondheim <sondheim@panix.com>
To: Cyb <cybermind@listserv.aol.com>, Wryting-L <WRYTING-L@listserv.wvu.edu>
Subject: Watch Slowly Virtual Body
Date: Mon, 15 Jan 2007 00:30:02 -0500 (EST)
VirtualBody http://www.asondheim.org/virtualbody.mp4 */long/* This is the final solution of the virtual body, the solution down to the bone where the flesh is irrelevant, the muscular body of atrophied muscles, the wired body switched off, the wired body switched on - this is the perfect perfected pure virtual body, the aerial body of antenna and ground this is the shattered body, body shattered against itself, body of songs and delights, unspeaking and unspeakable body it might be said that sex, for me, was only a detour, that this body has been the construct-construction of years - the rendering of these few moments left (of the shattered body, the final solution) taking only a matter of twenty hours or twelve-hundred minutes for perfect production, frame by frame, image by image, the coalescence of nature-culture like none other, the immanent shattered by the imminent only the necessity of knowing the absence of sex and all desire, the useless remnant of violence crawling out of our civilization - only this necessity is a reminder of the interior of pollution incohering, stripped from life and limb, corpuscule and tissue nothing is in favor of the light 'here,' nothing is 'here' nor was nor would have been (nothing exemplary anyway) The Text of the Procurer: :lives always has fuzzy boundaries where the limited exigencies of life are:landscape of death. Hannibal's elephants haunt the Alps. Where nothing:Every organism is an organism of and by slaughter, every landscape, a:have robbed the experience of another. Memories always teeter on the verge:to, almost a denial that only Rilke was capable of. Actually climbing to: http://www.asondheim.org/virtualbody.mp4 */long/* Devour the bluff, the church, the grave, seems an impossible memory now, as if I Brought Forth through lives always has fuzzy boundaries where the limited exigencies of life are! landscape of death. nothing the haunted. of landscape, the landscape of death. where nothing of the landscape of death. where nothing lives and nothing is the landscape of death. The Recognition. slaughter.verge. the saturation. the dead-sex link with death and pain. the dead linkage.