so, diaper
yup
i need your advice
don’t give advice
will you let the trees give advice through you?
that’s up to the trees
we’re not getting very far
there’s nowhere to get
then i’m going to ask for advice and also provide it
sort of defeats the purpose
you suddenly believe in purpose?
every once in a while it’s a relief to utter
a commonplace
i didn’t think the republic of pompous poetry let you leave
language needs to sleep too
but shouldn’t it not sleeptalk?
i don’t think we should tell language what not
to do
isn’t that exactly what we should be doing?
where’s humpty dumpty when we need it?
so here’s the scene. i’m sitting in the members’ lounge in
yottalopolis’ primary artfilm venue minding my own business …
… you never mind your own business. what does
that even mean bumblebrain? just because language is having a nap doesn’t mean
we have to kill it, banality’s …
… minding my own business – i’m sitting in the southeast corner in
one of those chairs that’s good for chiropractors typing on my laptop like a
zombie literary samurai, for once no tepid neosinatra audio piss playing and
the lounge as quiet as a cat when it’s quiet – when the dude behind me starts wanking
some youtube junk on his phone. the gift of tranquility, focus, unity’s
immediately stolen, torture fantasies rise seductively from the swamp of
origins, misanthropy – never one to stay buried long – leaps from its
hypertransient grave and claims totalitarian rule on planet i. what should i
have done?
trees don’t give historical advice
you’re not one to believe in chronounidirectionality
i’m not one, but setting this aside we’re not
one not to believe in anything
it’s the rank obnoxiousness. nature doesn’t exist anymore. only
the city remains – everthickening makeup on absurd absence. silence and the
spaces it creates – despite that clever 1961 book about silence (a necessary
sound in sound’s evolution but hardly any sum of sounds, another cage to try
out in the zoo of words) – are critical for biopsychicdiversity, these
increasingly ubiquitous invasions accepted, even expected, desired, normalized,
these offenses …
… don’t worry, your psychic brand is being
phased out, in 10 years at the most the environments of silence will be so
polluted with human sound that those unable to adapt will all be dead or
incarcerated
want to know what i did?
what you should have done is bound the dude
to his chair, smashed his phone, pissed and shat and puked on the fragments,
used your revengoblast™ to mutate him into a
zerodimensional antiad for nothing and stuck him on a videoboard playing on
infinite loop in the hell of his own private theater
didn’t realize trees were so christian
i forgot about the trees
you and everyone else
it’s noise that makes us forget about the
trees
it’s the absence of trees that makes us remember noise
it’s forgetting that makes us forget about
forgetting
want to know what i did?
all our lives are are retelling stories so we
can access modes of time lost with trees’ death
we are the species whose primary pedagogy is knowledge through
slaughter
we learn through ghosts
blood is our curricula
death our classroom
there has to be another way
the way of trees
the trees are dead
let’s ask the phones
the phones won’t let us hear the answer
there are no answers
only questions. questions, and time
time too is dead, only questions
where does advice fit into all of this?
advice is the restory of the question
the vice of ads on a quest to rest us
yesterday is like an affirmed tomorrow never
returned to its owner
time is like advice never spoken, taken, given, thought
i don’t see what any of this has to do with
trees
want to know what i did?
