The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

September 30, 2013

Violaline (best)

Modified Lamy violaline, late 19th century.
I've tuned four strings to ee aa - two unisons a fourth
apart; the unisons are played separately, allowing for
major and minor intervals of all sorts, a different
kind of chording. It reflects exactly the disruptions
in our lives as we prepare for leaving Brooklyn for
Providence, all sorts of things given away, the place
turned upside-down. The music is strange, as is the


After I take the pill, I think to myself:
I am free of the pill. I am not taking it NOW.

I sleep through the pill. Therefore it has no
effect. When I am awake, the pill has
disappeared. Like me, it has no existence.

My short term memory is confused when I wake;
objects exchange positions and functions. I
know the pill has created this transformation.
The day later returns to normal, but I am
unsure: Where did the exchange happen and
when? Am I not disordered NOW?

The NOW is the immediacy of the reaction
which cancels all others. I hate it; I would
rather live without it, another one of my
endless regrets. The NOW contains the seeds
of misery and corrosion, and what happens
subsequently is a hideous version of Marx's
exchange value: How can one value anything,
when the world is flat, nauseous, and lost
in dull confusion?

Ten minutes after taking the pill: Freedom

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