Monsters in Trousers

Monsters in Trousers
9:27 PM 5/7/2018
(collage poetry)

We use language to separate, to violently tear ourselves [apart].
There is necessarily something cruel.
Information feeds into the overproduction of the remainder.
Any oxidation or dust must be avoided.
Dialogue operates on the level of textuality.
Experience coincides with the consciousness of [the] viewers.
This transgression overflowing is something good and necessary.

A set of windows opening onto nothing
to shed light upon the emptiness of repetition,
trapped within a time-loop one cannot hope to escape.
Chaos enfolds, absorbing all entities trapped within
to unfold “sheets of the past”
memories of collective phantasms and fears that need exorcizing
including archival materials about unrealized or forgotten projects.

Forty dull clowns hobble awkwardly by.
We have been socialized to take our complacent roles in society.
I claim absolutely no originality in arguing
the primary textual matter we should concern ourselves with.
The details are not so important as the assumption
that extracts from the text its revolutionary force:
a plane of immanence that also paradoxically has transcendence.
Marking is not all that different from human writing.
Don’t fall into the trap of rigidly defining
cultural practices [that] are designed to help the human species reconnect.

We must remind ourselves through language
to function like a lighthouse, a beacon
rife with far-reaching implications
by the infinite speed with which everything taking shape in it vanishes
a conceptual strategy for dealing with an experience.
Rhetoric is a potent example of deflection,
functioning as the sciences that create the belief systems we need.
A sign that such behavior is deeply rooted in our experience
of being that allow organisms to commune, ironically, through their otherness;
a gesture based upon the singularity of interpretation.

Things as things-within-themselves with essences, complex purposes, and histories.
An embodied signifier within the context
no matter how small it is, may possess unlimited and proper depths of meaning
to exploit outdated network infrastructures
contained within an ideological “magic circle,”
crash right up against the assumption.
Can thinking not turn on itself without a mediation?
As disempowerment to preempt the unending cultural desire to iterate,
to have space to think, to float ideas, to work through difficult strategies:
when processing concepts, creating new pairings and relations out of their fragmented unity.
Without coherence, there is no voice — only noise.
Get out of control and produce some undesired or uncontrolled sounds
[that] cannot be reduced to linguistics, to logic or to science,
to reveal an unheard note.

Chaos is needed for the man of letters.
It is absolute through the condensation it carries out;
blinks or breaths, and the crackle of tension in a room.
Logic is only interesting when it is silent.
Perhaps the less said the better,
inducing us to suppose that there are no settled principles of reason.
Logic is problematic as long as it keeps the desire of being a substitute [for the real].
Seemingly impossible cultural constructs come about.
Concepts are monsters that are born out of their ruins.
Monsters in trousers baggy and grey,
never pursuing anything beyond their own ends.
The world of concepts is much more entertaining, colourful and musical than this.
The concept; its possible defeat, destruction and non-discursiveness is indispensable
[and] constantly modify the concepts towards the past and future.
Some will be erased.

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