ALAN SONDHEIM
Alan Sondheim
- Nine Works
Alan Sondheim
USA
revision and hiding of biography (fwd)
Date: Sun, 13 Aug 2000 22:33:52 -0400 (EDT)
To: webartery@egroups.com
From: Alan Sondheim <sondheim@panix.com>
Subject: [webartery] revision and hiding of biography (fwd)
biography in a number of hidden directories and files
#
#
~/.arms/and/legs/bound
~/.are/all/tense/inside
~/.while/you
~/.are/confused,
#
~/.while/you
~/.are/just/dead,
~/.bruised/breasts
~/.confidential,
~/.eyes/opened
~/.for/your/eyes/only
#
~/.legs/and/arms/bound/with,
~/.look,
~/.mouth/opened,
~/.scream/of/poetry,
~/.secret
#
~/.see,
~/.splay,/take/me,
~/.the/scream/of/poetry
~/.urgent
~/.with/bruised/breasts,
~/.words/pouring/out
#
~/.can't/relate/to/this/while/you
~/.couldn't/possibly/understand/while/you
~/.eat/me/alive/while/you
~/.wither/inside/me/
#
#!/usr/local/bin/perl/-w
#/biography
#
#
Multi.Media.Knot
Date: Thu, 24 Aug 2000 20:04:40 -0400 (EDT)
To: webartery@egroups.com
From: Alan Sondheim <sondheim@panix.com>
Subject: [webartery] Multi.Media.Knot
who is here sondheim ttype Aug 24 02:03 (166.84.0.123) who am i
sondheim ttype Aug 24 02:03 (166.84.0.123) who are you sondheim
ttype Aug 24 02:03 (166.84.0.123) who are we sondheim ttype Aug 24
02:03 (166.84.0.123) who is o going sondheim ttype Aug 24 02:03
(166.84.0.123) who is going out usage: who [-mTuH] [ file ]
who am i who is here now usage: who [-mTuH] [ file ]
who am i who 1 2 sondheim ttype Aug 24 02:03 (166.84.0.123)
against hypertext/multimedia: because it is so primitive, because so much
time is taken for downloading, because the choices are insipid, because
five minutes of videotape convey more depth and dis/comfort than all the
dhtml in the world, because dhtml stutters, because the online path is
cleansed, because there is no noise from the depths of the universe,
because the experience clatters, is clicked, because it gives you what you
want, because its colors are clean, because there are no bodies present,
because worlds are at a distance and replaced by skittered signifiers,
because you don't read back into presence, because your alternatives are
infinite and flat *
Weather Conditions at 03:51 AM EDT on 24 Aug 2000 for New York JFK, NY.
Temp(F) Humidity(%) Wind(mph) Pressure(in) Weather
========================================================================
70 83% NORTH at 5 30.01 Mostly Cloudy
Today...Patchy morning fog...then variably cloudy with a slight
chance of a shower or thunderstorm. High around 80. Southwest wind 5
to 10 mph. Chance of a shower 20 percent. Thu Aug 24 05:13:25 EDT 2000
* because you're not locked in, because you're glutted with information,
because you become hysteric, because you keep on pushing the thing, be-
cause it moves farther and farther away, because your skin distends and
ruptures, because you can't tie it together, because online culture is the
culture of the wound, because there's no breathing, because no air
video:
O dive! (into the Ocean of Stories!)
E-void! (Internet shudder and shake!)
Evo-id! (evolutionary Upwellings from desire and moment of movement!)
I dove! (into that Very Same Ocean!)
Cold Mountain Poems
mlspl$cad tr$nsfprm$tlpns crazed lost-body-skins, clouds, crags, grapple-
graubel-mist mphnt$ln-ya$rnlng burned out hut (Red Guards) down-time Your
among down-time is within-you my get dark curling vapors Your incandescent
connects my dark curling vapors with needle park YOU WON'T LET ME SPEAK!
enough of transformations d$rkanad frhstr$tlpns wlth pappla ln thls clty
sm$shlng w$lls wlth thalr vlpl$tlng ayas sticks and stones // sticks and
stones
Your earth nothing whatsoever is above my therefore nothing whatsoever
Your I connects my nothing whatsoever with Stream of Stories // Nikuko
come here in your soiled clothes. Nikuko come here. dark rages and fallen
trees, denuded temples, desecrated images, meditations in ante-rooms //
You know, Nikuko. Give me what you have taken Nikuko. Your death-like
Violation-Fabric, Nikuko. is in my florid Take Nikuko. Your being seeps
into Red Guards (burned out hut) Take Nikuko.
"mahiki--to peel off; to pry; as to peel the bark of a tree to judge the
wood beneath; to scrape at the skin to remove a tiny insected buried be-
neath the epidermis. Also, to cast out, as of a spirit." (Nana I Ke Kumu,
Look to the Source, Pukui, Haertig, Lee.)
taking the clothes from the skin taking the skin from the clothes // ma-
hiki // taking the bones from the bones skin from the skin // become the
tain of the mirror // mountain-stream // mirror taking the clothes from
the skin taking the skin from the clothes. Take me. Your being seeps into
Red Guards (burned out hut) Take me.
we are pure
we are golden
we are pure and we are golden:we are golden:we are pure:we are golden
:we are golden
last_word with hours of sexual fury!
we are pure and golden:we are golden:we are pure::
Your noose we are golden is outside_of my decay
we are golden
Your last_suck destroys my we are golden!
we are pure and golden:we are golden:we are pure:we are golden:
Does we are pure turn julu, we are pure and golden, to you?
last_suck with hours of sexual fury!
we are pure and golden:we are golden:we are pure::
Come with me, we are pure and golden, julu and julu!
we are pure and golden:we are golden:we are pure:we are golden:we are
golden
Does we are pure turn julu, we are pure and golden, to you?
last_fuck with hours of sexual fury!
we are pure and golden:we are golden:we are pure:we are golden:
last_word with hours of sexual fury!
we are pure and golden:we are golden, turn pure julu, to you
***
THE ONLY THING WORTH READING IS THE BIBLE. READ THE BIBLE THE BIBLE THE
BIBLE. ALL THE TRUTH IN THE WORLD IS IN THE BIBLE. READ THE BIBLE THE
BIBLE THE BIBLE. THERE IS NO OTHER BOOK THAN THE BIBLE. READ THE BIBLE THE
BIBLE THE BIBLE. THERE IS NO OTHER TRUTH THAN THE BIBLE. READ THE BIBLE
THE BIBLE THE BIBLE. THERE IS NONE OTHER THAN THE BIBLE. READ THE BIBLE
THE BIBLE THE BIBLE. THE BIBLE IS ALL YOU WILL EVER NEED. READ THE BIBLE
THE BIBLE THE BIBLE. THE BIBLE IS ALL YOU WILL EVER WANT. READ THE BIBLE
THE BIBLE THE BIBLE. THE BIBLE IS GOD'S TRUTH ON EARTH. READ THE BIBLE THE
BIBLE THE BIBLE. THE BIBLE IS THE LORD'S GOOD BOOK. READ THE BIBLE THE
BIBLE THE BIBLE. THE BIBLE IS GOD'S HOLY BOOK. READ THE BIBLE THE BIBLE
THE BIBLE. FALL NOT INTO THE DEPTHS OF SIN. READ THE BIBLE THE BIBLE THE
BIBLE. READ NONE OTHER BUT THE HOLY BOOK. READ THE BIBLE THE BIBLE THE
BIBLE. READ THE BIBLE THE BIBLE THE BIBLE. READ THE BIBLE THE BIBLE THE
BIBLE.
***
Oracle
i
Suns, moons, stars, testicles, teeth, balls, nipples, are: cloud stone
flower voice and tree - miniature models of enormous cost-saving benefits
heated to the temperature of the sun; build them hard with pieces of wood
so they break inside and fly in all directions (whole worlds drop out, but
there is no consciousness there). More symbols emerge: abstracted move-
ments of investments across membranes, borders of tariffs across spaces,
gaps among words and exhalations bordering on defining: oceans, clouds,
cloth-bolts, tariffs, gold, games, and limbs. Nothing drifts; you name,
are bound.
ii
non10existence nonexisten5ce 5nonexistence n11onexistence nonexis11tence
nonexisten8ce non11existence nonexis1tence nonexisten9ce nonexistenc3e
non12existence n5onexistence no7nexistence non2existence nonexis9tence
nonexistenc6e nonexiste8nce nonexis9tence nonexistenc10e 12nonexistence
n3onexistence none9xistence nonexisten11ce nonexistence12 no1nexistence
nonexistenc4e 6nonexistence no1nexistence nonexistence2 no3nexistence
nonex3istence nonexistence3 4nonexistence nonexiste12nce n2onexistence
nonexist9ence nonexistenc7e nonexiste11nce nonexisten10ce nonexistence2
n3onexistence no4nexistence nonex5istence nonexiste7nce no4nexistence
nonexis10tence nonexiste12nce nonexistenc4e
iii
for the moment keeping loss to a minimum
Oracle Construction
57 pico yy 58 h 59 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 60 /usr/games/random 12
< yy >> zz 61 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 62 /usr/games/random 12 < yy
>> zz 63 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 64 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >>
zz 65 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 66 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz
67 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 68 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 69
/usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 70 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 71
/usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 72 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 73
/usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 74 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 75
/usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 76 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 77
/usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 78 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 79
/usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 80 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 81
/usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 82 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 83
/usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 84 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 85
/usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 86 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 87
/usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 88 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 89
/usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 90 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 91 pico
zz 92 h 93 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 94 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >>
zz 95 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 96 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz
97 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 98 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 99
/usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 100 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 101
/usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 102 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 103
/usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 104 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 105
/usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 106 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 107
/usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 108 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 109
/usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 110 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 111
pico zz 112 h 113 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 114 /usr/games/random 12
< yy >> zz 115 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 116 /usr/games/random 12 <
yy >> zz 117 /usr/games/random 12 < yy >> zz 118 pico zz 119
Omen
In the burned-out hut, think naked Alan-and-Nikuko, speaking to the Doc-
tor: We're your meat and seafood, Doctor, no matter your name or guiding
spirit, but you're hardly anything. Come here in your soiled clothes.
Nikuko come here. Fallen Red Guards go into dark rages, "Doctor, take
Nikuko. Take her. Take her good."
Food, part and parcel of the world around us. How swollen the world is for
just a moment, how bursting, pubescent. A panic in one part of the world
affects everyone. Quakes and dark rages affect everyone. There is no con-
sciousness. Nikuko cried in sickness that she missed the very world; it
flew in all directions.
o
open(APPEND, ">> .bio"); @text=<STDIN>; print APPEND @text; close APPEND;}
cliffs and moon, mountains lost in clouds, peaks shall guard me. don't
look for me, don't find me. i can't read the scriptures, can't obey the
precepts. i dream of cliffs, trees lost in fog, steps of stone, thatched
huts. i dream of paths across the cliffs, trees in alignment, wake and
recognize my ignorance. i will unlearn to write the hermitage. i've given
up truth for the semblance of things, walking among appearances, knowing
the hardness of the mountain depths, the slopes of illusion, the edges of
the world cutting into me. nothing can be done with me, i'm too old for
anything, disappear in the mists. nothing seems possible as i lean over my
charcoal stove for soup and warmth. nothing works. now, this
impossibility. only when i know the absence of this writing will i be able
to write. over and over again i try to write the hermitage. the tree has
more depth. there are no paths i can find, no paths i can't find. there is
more depth to the fog. these are the dreams of an impossible person. this
impossibility. tossing i live resolutely for a future emptied of all
conception. when i am able to write, i will be able to write you. when i
cease to recognize this, i will be able to write.
over and over again i try to write the hermitage. i dream of cliffs, trees
lost in fog, steps of stone, thatched huts. nothing works. nothing seems
possible as i lean over my charcoal stove for soup and warmth. these are
the dreams of an impossible person. tossing i live resolutely for a future
emptied of all conception. i can't read the scriptures, can't obey the
precepts. nothing can be done with me, i'm too old for anything, disappear
in the mists. don't look for me, don't find me. i've given up truth for
the semblance of things, walking among appearances, knowing the hardness
of the mountain depths, the slopes of illusion, the edges of the world
cutting into me. the tree has more depth. there is more depth to the fog.
only when i know the absence of this writing will i be able to write.
there are no paths i can find, no paths i can't find. i dream of paths
across the cliffs, trees in alignment, wake and recognize my ignorance.
when i cease to recognize this, i will be able to write. when i am able to
write, i will be able to write you. now, this impossibility. cliffs and
moon, mountains lost in clouds, peaks shall guard me. this impossibility.
i will unlearn to write the hermitage.
o
o
open(APPEND, ">> .bio"); @text=<STDIN>; print APPEND @text; close APPEND;}
cliffs and moon, mountains lost in clouds, peaks shall guard me. don't
look for me, don't find me. i can't read the scriptures, can't obey the
precepts. i dream of cliffs, trees lost in fog, steps of stone, thatched
huts. i dream of paths across the cliffs, trees in alignment, wake and
recognize my ignorance. i will unlearn to write the hermitage. i've given
up truth for the semblance of things, walking among appearances, knowing
the hardness of the mountain depths, the slopes of illusion, the edges of
the world cutting into me. nothing can be done with me, i'm too old for
anything, disappear in the mists. nothing seems possible as i lean over my
charcoal stove for soup and warmth. nothing works. now, this
impossibility. only when i know the absence of this writing will i be able
to write. over and over again i try to write the hermitage. the tree has
more depth. there are no paths i can find, no paths i can't find. there is
more depth to the fog. these are the dreams of an impossible person. this
impossibility. tossing i live resolutely for a future emptied of all
conception. when i am able to write, i will be able to write you. when i
cease to recognize this, i will be able to write.
over and over again i try to write the hermitage. i dream of cliffs, trees
lost in fog, steps of stone, thatched huts. nothing works. nothing seems
possible as i lean over my charcoal stove for soup and warmth. these are
the dreams of an impossible person. tossing i live resolutely for a future
emptied of all conception. i can't read the scriptures, can't obey the
precepts. nothing can be done with me, i'm too old for anything, disappear
in the mists. don't look for me, don't find me. i've given up truth for
the semblance of things, walking among appearances, knowing the hardness
of the mountain depths, the slopes of illusion, the edges of the world
cutting into me. the tree has more depth. there is more depth to the fog.
only when i know the absence of this writing will i be able to write.
there are no paths i can find, no paths i can't find. i dream of paths
across the cliffs, trees in alignment, wake and recognize my ignorance.
when i cease to recognize this, i will be able to write. when i am able to
write, i will be able to write you. now, this impossibility. cliffs and
moon, mountains lost in clouds, peaks shall guard me. this impossibility.
i will unlearn to write the hermitage.
ALAN SONDHEIM
www.anu.edu.au/english/internet_txt
ted@warnell.com
