Intimacy cannot be expressed discursively. The swelling to the bursting point, the malice that breaks out with clenching teeth and weeps; the sinking feeling that doesn’t know where it comes from or what it’s about; the fear that sings its head off in the dark; the white-eyed pallor, the sweet sadness, the rage and the vomiting … are so many evasions.
Words Made Flesh: Code, Culture, Imagination
by Florian Cramer
Executable code existed centuries before the invention of the computer in magic, Kabbalah, musical composition and experimental poetry. These practices are often neglected as a historical pretext of contemporary software culture and electronic arts. Above all, they link computations to a vast speculative imagination that encompasses art, language, technology, philosophy and religion. These speculations in turn inscribe themselves into the technology. Since even the most simple formalism requires symbols with which it can be expressed, and symbols have cultural connotations, any code is loaded with meaning. This booklet writes a small cultural history of imaginative computation, reconstructing both the obsessive persistence and contradictory mutations of the phantasm that symbols turn physical, and words are made flesh.
Download (updated on 2012-10-11)
View online (HTML, added on 2013-7-1)
Sequel: Exe.cut(up)able statements: Poetische Kalküle und Phantasmen des selbstausführenden Texts (2011, in German)
This looks interesting. Anyone read this?
Ernst Fuchs, The Star (Die Symbolik des Traumes), 1968.
Think about who the average movie critic is. Most (90%+?) of them are leftist progressives, thus in sympathy or outright in love with communism, something this director is famous for and which stains everything he ever made.
These critics love mental illness, something the left is ALSO famous for — the left never fails to turn some emotion or condition into a mental illness if it helps them get off from being responsible for their own lives.
The film is from a classic era of Italian films, something most critics drool over, and it represents a ‘first’, namely this director’s first use of color.
The film, as well, won a Golden Lion (Venice) and is a classic time capsule of that era.
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Mazzy Star - Season of Your Day
War on Drugs - Lost in the Dream
Godflesh - A World Lit Only by Fire
Adam & The Ants - Dirk Wears White Socks
Miles Davis - In A Silent Way/On the Corner
Talk Talk - Spirit of Eden
Britten Quartet - Benjamin Britten: String Quartets No. 1&2
Son House - The Original Delta Blues
The United States of America - The United States of America
Chrome - Half Machine Lip Moves
BBC Radio Documentary on Sand Denny
Blind Willie Johnson - Dark Was the Night
Japan - Gentleman Take Polaroids
Tortoise - Tortoise
The Clash - The Clash
Twin Shadow - Confess
Pearls Before Swine - Balaklava
Fairport Convention - Unhalfbricking
Kevin Ayers - Shooting the Moon
Soft Machine - Soft Machine
Robert Wyatt - Rock Bottom
Bark Psychosis - Hex
Ex Hex - Rips
Jean-Luc Godard - Pierrot Le Fou
Jacques Rivette - La Religieuse
Fritz Kirsch - Children of the Corn
Hermann Broch - The Death of Virgil
Hans Jakob Christoffel von Grimmelhausen - Simplicius Simplicissimus
Giorgio Agamben - The Coming Community
Jen Hofer - Slide Rule
Paul Eluard - Selected Poems
Richard Brody - Everything is Cinema: The Working Life of Jean-Luc Godard
The Physics of Failure
flows jittering at a
merging big iron
w/ Big Data.
let’s mitigate spurious
velocities in my
dirty & heterogeneous
data, we can consider
how the system treats
the circular pipe,
a backward facing step,
flows over square
cylinders as separate
dimensions, like space,
time, and uncertainty.
I can’t get over this album. I’ve never really gave Soft Machine a listen so I can’t say how this compares.
I want to
Be in cahoots…
Let’s be in
Cahoots and scour
Lost and found
Boxes for treasures.
Wax dithyrambic, rave
Last first poem
You will stand
In line to
See. It’s stupid
To die for
Status with such
A deadpan arrogance,
Such tired insolence.
I switched love
With status because
I was embarrassed
And now it’s
A diary and
Not a poem.
That’s how you
Know I’m Nothing.