The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

September 29, 2008


once I thought that philosophical problems on some level would be immune
from, independent of, physical theory - that there would be a residue one
couldn't absorb, like a spirit of living organisms or some such - synergy
or what have you, synchronicity. now I think that philosophical thought
dissolves in what emerges from cosmology or particle physics: what is a
red patch for example in relation to dark matter, or the phenomenology of
the body in relation to the very stars that gave us our physical composi-
tion? discoveries build on discoveries, endlessly divide; tree structures
collapse under the weight of inconceivably entangled branches. what
emerges is fundamental, our ignorance, however 'our' is ascertained within
and without the pathos of language - and however 'ignorance' is wrought on
the surfaces of unaccountable and alien sememes. who we are, where are we
going, where have we been, how do we move or are moved through time, how
is speech possible, why anything - all of these phrases or questions are
as emptied as consciousness itself becomes in the face and porosity of the
virtual. there is no hope for us, no matter how we retreat to evanescent
online worlds that falsely promise exactitude in things ontological and
epistemological. nothing is further from the truth, even truth never
arrives, perhaps Julu Twine said, in the manner of intervention into this
and every other narrative. - mutoscoped with live video in SL


tiny mournful signal calling in soup of melody
melodic cloud, help help i'm here, my signal
o Julu Twine in the middle of such confusion
please bail us out o tiny signal
plasma and murky fuzzy doldrums and we starve
homeless, new movie "The Last Crew"
there are several words left, I have them here
no, here: gamma globulin, something about Mary
and her tiny, mournful, signal

Generated by Mnemosyne 0.12.