Main

January 19, 2012

go meet

neither characters
nor psychologies

but that what these types
relate to:

the dirt of language
snippets


December 08, 2011

rule

of law decision

now subjected
by politicians

to potentialize meaning
for contrary use

November 20, 2011

if and when people

suffer exclusion

the historical
IS already
excluded

the rhetorical
substitutes
the historically political

then...


November 16, 2011

understand animals -

all instabilities -
not only of humans

cultures bleed
gods and politics

when times turn
monies
into
stupidities

it specializes
in subverting
humans:

as a boy I cried-
took shelter
among trees and animals
away
from
the uselessness of words

when the legless rolled by
where formerly
many legs marched by


October 20, 2011

Arthur Rimbaud's

and
my mother's birthday

today -
October 20th


Verlaine: What is your greatest fear?
Rimbaud: That other people would see me as i see them.


Rimbaud:
Self interest exists, attachment based on personal gain exists, complaisancy exists.
But not love.
Love has to be reinvented.

etc
etc
et cetera

October 03, 2011

what does not sink in

always study

what you don't understand

what nobody understands

just like the boy who climbed
up high
old Roman Walls

who climbed up
in the middle of fresh city ruins

and went home to study
the many past endings

present endings

endings to come


September 29, 2011

subtleness

to be
on guard

against

the we

among
the us

the so called
logical structure

from
within

a pro-noun

time

and

meaning

last as long
as milk
in heat

September 25, 2011

failures

misreactions

stupidity's
specializations

thought's helplessness

images that cover up

conformity's task casts
series of whatevers

September 20, 2011

collecting ideas

via gestures

air bubbles
replaced via giggles

animals saddled

weighted via
procedural words

tricked
into humans

a name (àme)
a tool

tooled
speaks language
too

September 11, 2011

same words

on
different

days

relate
different
meaning


same song
same words

playing
in

different
contexts

relating

a quantity

of reality

subtracted

removed

as if words
connect

play
a myth

did I not study

interpretation
in search of meaning

a play
acting
in search of its author

a wilderness
transformed

re-named
a land-scape

multi-plicities
of things

words

because

decisive
questions

remain
concealed

within
the learned form

tradition -new with old-
parade in

August 23, 2011

it functions

yes it does

played language
functions

did nakedness hope

nakedness stood there

at first
there was
no you
no me
no we:

a nakedness
that simply does

it gives

then
your youth evaporated :
you became
translated into words

your nakedness went
into a body

became a weight
of fiction

as if youth -
its meaning -
comes from age


August 17, 2011

even magic

is a form of revolt


failing in the effort
understanding social reality,
nature's realities

an established social order
is very well subverted
via hope's miracle practices

history compiles
language's tool
practicing its tools

drenched

with
rules

and
rituals

frozen
into
limits

August 05, 2011

politics et al

live off

within
thin-k-tan-k-s


always
prevent

any
credible
credible
credible
opposition

NONE
NADA
NJET

July 31, 2011

swayed by the irrational

as perpetual
school boys

blind force
forced us
into that direction

even adults -
as if lovers
of the possibility of facts-
succumbed
totally

then,
after all that,

we were taught

of difference
of revocable tolerance


Yes - as long as
we were not thinking

we hungered
as per system
for hierarchies

of talkers
empowered
with
pre-manufactured thought

July 25, 2011

demonetize

life's loves

pleasures' fleeting
friendships

instead
save words

accumulate
languages,
their situations

July 15, 2011

in words

you had said

that this was more than more


once more

time
had hardened
so nicely

an intensity
into
duration-

the never ending one


July 10, 2011

go there

you'll become a catalyst
for words unlimited
for language unknown

go elsewhere -
become a fact

July 08, 2011

as if freedom

no, I did not go to a bull-fight when I was in Malaga
nor would I ever go to the stampede

yes Spain was a Roman colony and then some...
Oh history!

and that other place is....

as if freedom
is a weed
yet it remains a worldly reality

freedom does not precede liberation
nor succeed it...

July 04, 2011

conservative

moods
and trends

how often did this happen

think not via formula
you new boys

not via entertainment trends

not via nicely hidden
dictates and commands

July 02, 2011

move from there to here

then on to another there

the human dimensions
the post-colonial surprises

you'll locate philosophically

observe "natural" categories
collect words

then move away to another there

June 04, 2011

the roguish exists

like
revocable bonds
of logic

exist
unconstrained

May 28, 2011

live experiences

of life

without
captivity of interpretations


or

- "I'm still the boy I used to be"-

January 23, 2011

by words

money
makes more money

donors of meaning
make change

March 28, 2010

dear thought remember

institutionalized reality
gets its language filtered

but then
once more
newly instrumentalized
to some same end

from within sediments of history
as if self-perpetuating
as if only by words

that we boys
yes! real boys-

post-dictatorship boys

knew yes we knew a reality
as Chameleon's latest news


December 23, 2009

the act of belief

the act
coerced

centuries speak
silence lives

via

fancy
frivolity
illusion

priests and politicians
meet and ritualize

within
double-headed institutions


language's masks
cure all failures

processes history
likes what imagination likes

verbosity
fortified with dreams

coercion fails
failure coerces


December 17, 2009

it's a colony

not a civility:

the paychecked factotum
fortified
via prejudices

empowered practices
groups rule ! dispense

prejudice galore ad infinitum
by virtue of their employment status,
an empowerment via pay cheque

confront
the buyer,
a non-status entity

intruder
in prejudice's heaven

December 03, 2009

a character

a literary devise

a number
an institutional devise

a mask
an illusory devise

a human
a submissive devise


November 20, 2009

dear critical creature

you never DO
daily routines

you obey them

November 19, 2009

Moral

moral oral skills

in the guise always
of fictitious practices

tongues do them
automatically

no words need apply

October 30, 2009

get meaning from language

remove
all prostitutions of language

all users of verbosity

all productions of fictions and lies
all beliefs
all dupery

all impotences of clapping hands
that pay for clappery

all cries for more war
all results from language's failure

all sacrifices the lust of beliefs
lusting for more ever more belief

doctrine's verbosities
rhyming with morals' ever more morals

halloweening
all done
under cover

as if
words live
turn into "miracles"

from fat promise
to peace of words

convoluted ethics
that screws behaviour
via intent, convoluted will

all words elevated
into higher value words

all brought to you
via
ever more words

October 22, 2009

going shopping becomes senseless

consumers,
humans
non-existent

only a conceptual scene
encountered
counts

"subjects"
performing illusions

verbosity of words ?

whips of concepts
visibly performed?


October 17, 2009

Oh Dear


we love body we love beauty
the orgasms in your voice

your distance from false language
the purity of your feelings

we live we re-live feelings
we hear your voice

we never needed words
culture's traps

your voice climbed as if on words
yet we all rose together
on nature's precious feelings


deny all fictions

so language stands accused of serial discriminations
as if a believer's tool against experience

language's naked falseness
thrives on cover-ups

language rules
as the root of all limitations

thus a vigorous life dies again and again
within language's tomb
all feelings denied
made deader via language


October 11, 2009

study

uni-versals and their re-versals

durations within which failures thrive

drifts into lies - languages' flowers imaginary new bloom

stag-nations and de-clines

shifts of homo-socialities deeper into stupidities

wars as solution foreclosing words

spiritual linearity preaching reaction, repetition

etc etc etc

October 02, 2009

a simultaneity

a fierce singularity

groups equal quantities

every one in it
never equals anything
but sums up to a quantity

like a surplus of language
reduced to an abstract

an ideological friendliness

an authoritarian monologue


humanity a quantity is

a human
a rarity

a state usurps language
it never needs humans

always enforces
always needs yeses

yes, quantities rule

September 24, 2009

muteness

political stammering
elaborated with fantasy's facts

a belief
within beliefs

verbosity makes you

gives you
a critical viewpoint that never is

August 22, 2009

if life is a theme

then improvise
on a theme of life

all that's impressed on a body
by a body of language
delivered via usurping institutions

long before your body language
wiggles in opposition
wanting to go
this way
that way

against all those
when your body shows more to others
than language can see, can give you,

you're fending
against all others minus one


your body succumbs disappears
under force of language-
yet
before that
both were fiercely separate:
lust never lusting for language

but then
themes begin to overlap
like reused sackcloth
from darkest moral quarters

from where the quasi dead
still command
not only the still too liveliest

yet the near dead seize the body
by its word,
freeze it
within raging unreason

and all by order
of a theme:
an authoritative text
commanding


progress

the sum of series of defeat,
multiple collapses
that grow out of advertised victories
words and texts and more texts willing


the part of the whole

was that day as a boy
someone took me for a ride
through the Brandenburg Gate
sitting there among the ruins of Berlin


it took sixty years
until that whole area got
liberated, renovated


----

what was once Protestant
turned now Catholic
and someone recently wrote
that the Cold War
brought Europe's Civil Wars
to an end...


as if the Vatican
now too is pacified

as if democracy too
will now grow into more greeneries
into more bush

as if foreign lands
will be free
free from foreign laws

as if beliefs evaporate
keep evaporating
become wordless


i met so many adults

while hanging on to my boyhood

that I always saw life as a stage
filled with actors playing
the role of a collective adult

the complicit role of men
the conforming role of women

the system played them,
whereas as a boy
you at least had yourself
not wanting "to be" a system

a sort of immunity against culture
that catalog dispensing cultural enforcers

those who hailed pope and dictatorship
yet lamented the loss of their very own sons,
productions of state supervised pro-creators

to become an adult was nothing but a future
to be filled with a tradition of false words

as if words narrate themselves into some prosperity
of heaven then hell
or the ubiquitous cry for no more war

adults become functionaries
their words expand into titles,
medals, bureaucracies

see all that
in-between the storms of ideology
and absurd hurrahs
when youth
gets used
dissolved
in war


August 20, 2009

language is so young

an invention

that life itself
remains at a loss


when I taught language...

students learned more
from themselves
from my silences

than from my words
that had just passed by

why go back to

post infancy?

someone taught me to read the newspapers
before I entered school

so what I saw in city after city
destruction after destruction
tanks here tanks there

all the misery repeated itself
in the papers

and when another war started
at the other end of the world
the war pictures started too

the boy could honestly cry

Life was always more important

than language:

as boys we took long brakes
from language

away from classrooms and zoos
and churches-

for us
they were all coercive creatures
of
and for language

the forests were for us:
there we were free
beyond free

free from other people's language

August 06, 2009

one blueberry not to remain

an irrational idea...

roundly and sweetly

more blueberries
follow each other
to a mammal's mouth

as if the many
add up to an organ's ism

August 04, 2009

more and more

I remove language from me
an occupant enforced

the infant cornered within language

never met a teacher that rhymed with another teacher
congruency was always system congruency

yet systems collapse
while others speak of change

granting language sense
a rhyming chance

ergo, language collapses

yet time is there to make possible
certain times
that "produce" no sense

family policy means family policing
language outsmarts every new-born

if you listen to to no one
shut off all speaking machines
grown-ups babble

your self gets stuck
within the innards
of any language
dead language

other language
drastically reduced detached
from exchangeable people

as if the invention of the beauty
of a twenty year old
is nothing but the product
of some historical language
hidden within a Greek sculpture

go!
eat your language

say HELLO to the sculpture

eat fresh fruit


some people think

they train their dogs and cats

yet it is public opinion
that is training thinking people

experience

loves to be free from words

go at it
in any language

avoid all texts that claim
to 'understand' experience

reduce your very own experience

to letters of the alphabet

make it into words
compose sentences
add commas
take a break at full-stops

as if experience trained you

you draw limits to your experience
add more words

as if
beyond words
another system rules
demanding unreachable experience

---
whosoever rules
institutionalizes experiences
converts you
makes usable
via words

August 02, 2009

one really does not measure properly

human animal groupings,
herdings,
whisperings

love of words rising
into the night of fictions
from within the safety
of all-round lies

until a distance of miles,
thousands of miles
thousands of years
have settled,

have made a home
in your understanding

one lifetime,
and only yourself

barely enough
to see
from the middle
where you must stand

any beginnings
any rumblings of endings

fictions, lies, fantasies
working their weaponry
from within bodies
filled with language

just listen
not to television
not to radio
not to news that is written
not to cars that speed by you

watch the words that fly around you
watch how these words behave
when they are born from bodies

watch the bodies' hysterics,
programmed repetitions

where in all that
would "fit"
tomorrow's human

repeating and repeating

strings of words
yet to come

July 30, 2009

Dear Professor,

ever since Archimedes'
noli me tangere (287-212 BC)

impersonators
of the "Almighty"

when
they will

they will
obedience

they always speak their will
only from within an hierarchy

the dominant always
command the dominated: obey !
the dominating will

yet their very own identity
their will
always disappear
behind their guise of choice

their will, allegedly never their own
their very own force
disappears
within the name of the State
so empowered by rules
from within the "Almighty"

long and short history
of the mighty

thousands upon thousands
of not only professors
got their will confiscated

including all monies all possessions
including all their very own life

history plays
yet seldom the new

only repetitions
surprise
only a few

July 19, 2009

twitter.com/AndreasToday

http://twitter.com/AndreasToday
.
.
Andreas2009July18.jpg


July 08, 2009

prefer divergence of feelings

to conformity of thinking

of conformity to feelings

for
groups and troops

soups
conform to everyone's
uni-taste

a play of games
only happens from within rules

rules mask as games
all play masks rules

truth an amoral fight
against your nature

July 07, 2009

as a growing up boy

one dies many a death

a friend moves away and so he's no longer;
another friend met a "better" friend,
so he's "in love" more within himself

and so one goes back to one's vocabulary
the Latin the Greek,
worlds that keep existing
in books
in classrooms
in teachers

so it was natural that one day
I removed myself and took distance from humanity

after all, they die one by one or en mass
on the battle fields
those warring parts of life's culture
funeral rites playing false roles
heroics and sacrifices

but language keeps on flying towards you
words you once before heard
and often overheard
in the worst pubs...
and classrooms...

but one did not mind the "dirt" in words
hatred has its institutions, its professions
followers leaders
branded words

too many words
turn the animal
into forms of human labels

nature grows you
culture frames you

July 02, 2009

every word commands its network

even "the soul" has its own news service


June 26, 2009

la vida es un carnaval - Michael Jackson

michael jackson clips to celia cruz

June 07, 2009

such an imperfect language as that of words

"Every really existing Thing
is a compound of such innumerable properties,
and has such infinity of relations
with all other things in the universe,
that almost every law
to which it appears to us to be subject
is liable
to be set aside,
or frustrated,
either by some other law of the same object
or by the laws of some other object
which interferes with it:
and
as no one can possibly foresee
or grasp all these contingencies,
much less express them
in such an imperfect language as that of words,
no one need flatter himself
that he can lay down propositions sufficiently specific
to be available for practice,
which he may afterwards apply mechanically
without any exercise of thought."

John Stuart Mill (20 May 1806 – 8 May 1873)
in "Aphorisms:Thoughts in the Cloister and the Crowd"
[my emphasis]

May 26, 2009

learned learned again and again that

"The essence of liberty
has always lain
in the ability
to choose as you wish to choose,
because you wish so to choose,
uncoerced,
unbullied,
not swallowed up in some vast system;
and
in the right to resist,
to be unpopular,
to stand up for your convictions
merely because they are your convictions.
That is true freedom,
and without it
there is neither freedom of any kind,
nor even the illusion of it."

Isaiah Berlin
(6 June 1909 – 5 November 1997)

May 17, 2009

Dalida-il venait d'avoir 18 ans

May 06, 2009

not the world not the cosmos

not all this surplus,
but the words that endlessly go there

words faster than a wind's cold breath
snow flakes syllables colder than ice

these they trade among each other
words and reversals and promises again

piece by piece by many words
as if by piecework they climb
towards undeceived meanings

yet in the end nothing remains
no echo follows laughter
no river reaches as far as tears
all song struck dead by an order of language

-------
as of
Friday, June 09, 2006

May 02, 2009

Miguel Bose' - Vote Johnny 23 - Saint Vincent 1979

April 25, 2009

love of culture traps vs love of free nature

"If, then,
you two
are friendly
to each other,
by
some tie
of nature
you belong
to each other."

Plato (428 BC – 348 BC)

April 14, 2009

Helmut Lotti - Amor

April 11, 2009

it's soo simple

STATE is to DOOM as
TASTE is to MOOD

or

STATE TASTE
-------- = --------
DOOM MOOD


rules constrain

April 08, 2009

aha

norms or forms morph
forms and norms morph

someone grins= signs
someone signs=grins

gin sing!

Flesh is EVIL see!
Self now LIVE

facts act = act facts
not epistemological orgasms

extract language

from a silent situation

that may condition
relations
their field of forces

instead of bringing
unpacking unending language

as if mutual language landscapes
need a sort of talk

of people talking
show off language


friends
are never
pre-described
never pre-describable

mutual feelings
circumnavigate
language

feelings game not repetitions
in search for conformities

nor for conformity's confirmation
within language


no feeling
in money hides

nor in gold
nor in words
nor in giving
nor in taking


only
from friend to friend
foundations grow
beyond words


no useful speculation
no utility,
no networking stats

a friend is a friend
an event

nothing here gets any simpler
gets ever calculated


April 06, 2009

David civera y bisbal!

March 30, 2009

when I moved away

from that town
away from people posturing

before the great collapse

to another town
and on to another town

while the contours
of the great collapse crystallized


always leaving people behind
posturing and juiced up within
their very own weapons of
hatreds
ideological
theological
political

their opinions
decorated with common sense
and series of ignorances

I always felt
I escape a humanity
that was fortunate
to be born yesterday

born
into systemic ignorances


March 28, 2009

ENVY

When I peruse the conquered fame of heroes, and the victories of mighty generals,
I do not envy the generals,
Nor the President in his Presidency, nor the rich in his great house;
But when I hear of the brotherhood of lovers, how it was with them,
How through life, through dangers, odium, unchanging, long and long
Through youth, and through middle and old age, how unfaltering,
how affectionate and faithful they were,
Then I am pensive—I hastily walk away, filled with the bitterest envy.

By Walt Whitman
May 31, 1819 – March 26, 1892

March 23, 2009

as boys in Spain

we met boys from England
and talked intelligently about the boys of Rome

Years later I thought about this in Mazatlan
where I saw a group of English lads
eating and drinking in the restaurant

then cavorting into the sunset at the beach

how this and that beach
reminds of other beaches,
other countries,
same plays

acquire nothing

believing
into next to nothing
is sort of habit free

He was free and wild

what else could he be?

He worked in the rose garden
where else could he work?

i brought Him roses
He smiled
We smiled

what else could We do?

He had no habits

He was wild
We were free


landscapes forced

by mindscapes

into narrower
ever narrower frames

remember Acapulco
before the high-rise scape

ever since that time
I never liked to travel
but reduced all travel
to unpredictable moves
with boxes to be unpacked
minds to be discovered

and 'mind' is sooo modern
that you will be stunned
what language must reproduce
in today's hinterland


students leap

from their wealth of feelings

to other people's language
opinions
words

faulty thinking

fantasize alien figures

eat all words like fat
feed off images

and all beauty

all leftover feeling
fades

electricity went off

a winter storm rushed thru the area

i just moved some snow away
and off my park bench

now I can feed the birds...

I had just copied what follows...
because the lights flickered
the computer behaved on and off

and all the rest of my memories evaporated
into a darker darkness
which lasted about three hours:

---

used to go the the Bar
in Ann Arbour
last century

don't even remember the music that played
but I liked the DJ the music he played
and he gave me a kiss for liking it

what did I drink
it wasn't Pernod
...

and I wasn't sure what will be next
the lights flickered

darkness got everything settled
yet I wanted more

March 18, 2009

the political faith

convolutions

remind
of authoritarian
literature classes
suffered

where
professorial dogma
trumps politics

beginning with
gender prone
Oh so harmless fairy tales in general

ending with
misreading/misspeaking

of dear lad,
Billy Budd

March 17, 2009

for boys and pupils

five plus five adds up to ten

for so called adults
that can add up to anything
except a naive ten
"I don't believe in math!"

'all big numbers are too big
to ever return to zero'

and the flat earth
has joined the ex nihilo creationists

never resigned to facts
insistency wills the absurd

so that accountancy is nothing
but a no good belief system

March 14, 2009

the Wall

that came down
was among other things
a wall between Reformation
and vaticanic Anti-Reformation
that found its confirmation
in the pope's birthday celebration
last year, in the innards of the White House

The Second World War has not finished...
nor has the Anti-Reformation...

Just like Luther's Reformation
in turn caused the mother of all Anti-Formations

so was the American Revolution
the mother of all new beginnings
in search of an ending...

the 'Cold War' merely an interlude
within a much longer, older theme

history continuous under different names
so that for the next generation
all that is new
is merely so under different names

continuous unabated
unseen
unexpected

the greatest most secret Secret
remains most visible
once the understanding

removes all fog


in this sort of small town

study all absent kindnesses

whispers flying towards you

assaultive sentences
that frame all intercourse
even within an alien shopping experience:

more border guard gaze
more Check Point Charlie gaze
-would make Franco proud

more no "Good" morning language
more and more anti- 'customer' stuff

you can't say social intercourse:
in this institutional model of a village

local coherence reinforced:
every rule and law of universal civility
reduced, an easy effort of circumvention

Human Rights Pudding
an assault on community spirit
a morticians gaze

post-colonial nostalgia
as if every gaze
praises false knowledge to be corrected
then "YOU TOO!"

game players acting law enforcement
every gaze a fruit of cultural re-enforcement

yet stuck within rotten fruits
from a Tree of Knowledge


so
travel from village to village
see fewer and fewer trees
yet more and more rotten fruit

assaultive language flowers blooms
no one eats, no one volunteers
for Human Rights Pudding


March 13, 2009

hallo readers

eyes see
brains know

and thought already
strong,
trained,
qualified
pre-prepared

all
within ready made words

even what's new
nothing but different

additions
substractions
cross-overs
of words

instant beauty

meets with instant relief
from all language

orgasm overrules liberates from language's intrusions
but language always tells it differently
it makes a story
while orgasm is pushed elsewhere

what was 'good enough and plenty' one time
for the students that hail against many times

turns into a never ending story
words copulating
extracting phrases
imitating

yet seldom praise orgasm
its world survives alone

from how low

language hails from

you'll see when it hits one day
the one day without you having said a peep

language erupting
against the non-peep sayer

as if deducting reducing
some sort of merit

from a never to be
never to be turned into a human

the force

behind
above
language

hidden
beneath

the visible,
the readable
the audible
the speakable

the sporadic
albeit a thinkable

is all there is: the Force-
there's no language by itself

if you don't quit

you're already possessed
by other people-
their masterly control of you

you'll never grow into an appreciation

or
some sort of understanding
of culture's making its separate sense
continuously changing
all without you

so quit

return to life

live to see
all language always moves
always goes by

language got no fixed address
it can never stop

only people, the many
must stand still

March 06, 2009

history

speaks and speaks and teaches
of hate's moral normal

while

LOVE
EVOL - ves

from
within

EVOL - ution
LOVE

February 26, 2009

I refer to refer

never to navigate
into conceptual obstacles

when ' I '
refer to ' my ' life,
eating life and otherwise life


refer and refer
backward like forward,
no change, no history


refer refer
e e
f f
e e
r e f e r


always only an experience of words, word orders
a cruel deference

---------------------------------------
Unlike orgasm in general
that does not exist 'in general',

all orgasms differ,
always in search
for more 'beauty' that differs even more
from 'beauty' in general


foods differ, appetites differ
we eat only fruits and seeds, flowers of broccoli ,
nature's sexual organs
compose us from within

like seeds that cruise
and cruise within the winds

----------------------------------

Erotics of shopping
within an absolutism of morals


refer refer

forward backward
and further backward

a non-light of darkness
going forward

February 04, 2009

Antonio Carmona - Vengo venenoso

January 08, 2009

on one of my train rides

between Cologne and Munich
an empty seat on my right

was taken up from a distance
by a face

that productively doubled my word output
thanks to him and only him

that he
at the end, closer
and closer towards his destination

had more and more tears in his eyes...

yes, I said, we could go on to Rome...
or anywhere, where ever you want...

yes write a sentence

read each word
subtract each word
never read

taste thought
at the tip of your tongue

see, language is big,
a big institution
fumbles with you

but your taste
your's is

too much knowledge

too much knowing
knowing too much of humanity

will stop you
at the gates of humanity

no thinking here
nor there
inside outside

everybody practices
watches succumbs
to rhetoric

except Cassius,
knower of too much

if and when you live enough

you meet those who have never lived

like old factories and leftover downtowns
you hear old language that is spoken only in old
oldest books rich with prejudices

you see/hear humans
that you thought
an Enlightenment had "educated"

and if nothing else,
the Second World War
had managed "to improve"
love somewhat

but nothing and nil of that-

history's time has now stopped

reversal and reaction are upon humanity

all what is "modern" sinks and sinks
deeper and deeper
into a sort of "new improved" morass,
a nondescript abyss


January 02, 2009

Julio Iglesias & Johnny Hallyday - j'ai oublier de vivre

December 27, 2008

All New Andreas - Another Leap Year goes by

December 24, 2008

the shot I heard here on christmas eve

that chased away all my birds
feeding on their wild bird seeds
a feeding interrupted

that reminded me
of universal barbarians
that succumbed to total illusion
followed by total destruction
christmas 1944//1945 in Berlin

when the basement shook
when bombs and their detonations
blew out window frames
and the straight christmas tree
tall as the living room
fell flat onto the floor

that was before or later
when Berlin's night sky
was burning ...

the rest is hidden in books
of dictators and popes
of their theories and statistics

and
if you look
black and white pictures
of flattened churches

Now not so new illusions
are upon us in 2008,
again!


christmas

lives via one of those many strategic games

that
what "makes" you - with permission-
feel good

like Halloween
a face altering mask

a tactic
a reform
to adjust your face
as per the designers' orders

very much organized not by the calendar
but at their
request

a sort of hidden but real war
that "makes" pleasures

December 22, 2008

compared to language

beauty IS complete
even from a distance...

beauty touches
as if already as nearby as a kiss

but then language...
a totally irresponsible intervention
of an invention


so when the boy learned and learned
THAT language
traveled to that country

voila
the boy found beauty and more beauty

not an influence
but an identity lived

experience beyond language


when

my parents went to the forests
to collect mushrooms, berries and bird songs

when my father saw a landscape, found a motif
for his water colors or his oils

I always watched the relation
between the landscape
my father's eyes
and what he then drew
painted on paper


this sort of watchful patience
that nature gives you
while you see the grass grow

birds sing for you
while the whole landscape
arrives at your father's hand


language was never as innocent

all language preceded

my birth,
a leap-year boy
born head first,

at home,
in my mother's bed

in my home-town
that was utterly destroyed
by a dictatorship married to the church-
then both vanished


followed by yet another language
yet another ideology


you learn about language
by what language does to you,

what language itself claims
it can do to you


language creates its agents
from simple boys to giggling girls
teachers professors

soon you learn ideological nonsense
gods that agitate from behind thick walls

the masters of language
play and scheme


and soon the boy sees the stage
hears the words

and turns away

walks walks walks
away


a label

fuses with another label
and now two labels
are supposed
to be a fusion
five thousand years old

all to facilitate distribution of legal tender
money

never mind who labels with whom and why
grammatically correct

never mind on behalf of whom
whose honey


-

December 20, 2008

Ketama - Vente pa Madrid

Manero, Bambo Baliardo, Manuel Arenas - Aurora

Lucio Battisti - Let the sunshine in (completo)

December 18, 2008

study languages

careful
while words pretend an order


when my hometown stood in ruins
it was language preceding all bombs
that set the theater
for all destructions
as if by "poetic force"

those who put their words
in a certain order-
attempts at meaning

soon reorder their words
to attain a meanness
that confines
their identity

never to be commensurate
with the young
project of democracy

December 10, 2008

never ever

am I
a part,
in a play of me

no art
no trap
no part

my own

freedom

always here
only my very own now

nothing abstract,
no past no future

no speculative sacrifice
no lie spinning words, beLIEf

no theme, game, blame
fictions, frames that hope

only my own
always now

December 06, 2008

when we boys studied

history

we noticed the rarity of democracies

and some saw,
victories and failures of papacies
where others saw, failures and victories of the above

yet other boys
always kept their mind unclogged

unharmed by intrigue-
propaganda's love
advertised as if free from hatred

before the world had ended

the dictator shot himself

and the great demontage took over

and later, when we boys played Monopoly
we were always reminded of that simulation
of real world worthless money

when no food nor electricity nor heat
were purchaseable


too much sport

creates non-thinking:
a win an always one way outcome

to train for
to apply
another set of language

to the 'other' side
yet to be made invisible


as if language 'sings' of the invincible

but language lives off an invented faith
words believe in

language games
within propaganda

a kid's games

a sport
enforced

kids
abused
impressed
repressed
controlled
via language games

language transports series after series
of lies into adults

-belief's propaganda
propaganda's beliefs-

all mediators stage and act a spectacle
swim on hope's fictions


December 05, 2008

PACO DE LUCIA - rumba

Paco de Lucia - Tico Tico

November 23, 2008

rules lure

while,
if and when
you're smiling,

yes,
there's a prohibitive code:
"you're smiling too much"


that "puts down" nature,
destroys boys:


rules
rule over men,

lures
power's words
against them

one day last century

the boy wore blue jeans

fresh stuff from America
then with my long hair shorn off

and Elvis was new too

my friends sang with me:

"Oh Mister blue"
while my blue jeans shrank

I outgrew
grew bigger...

yet another language
was now my home

...while you're smiling

from within nature's never ending spring


plenty plenty of antagonists
weaving and weaving
their discursive nets

about the pursuit of happiness

I learned about as a school boy

and
as a boy I saw my father's large murals
of American landscapes and monuments

a sort of home-made history
on canvas,
on walls,
and later in my mind's eye

and then
one day

when I went to an American university
"they" asked me "why I want to study" there, in America

I wrote down exactly what the boy in me saw and thought
and school-bookishly
had learned...


And then
what I never forgot:

an advice given
at that university:
"You should play the game!"

was to the boy in me
such stupidity coming from an academic

an advice that was of course
never congruent
with my very very own pursuit of happiness

And in that spirit
I stood later before my students:
always in pursuit of our mutual happiness


- life is much too short,
too enframed in zoo-like, moral enclaves
always only constraining definitions

- life much too often short-changed by miserableness

- so much so that
a mutual pursuit of happiness
goes beyond:

- all programmatical and affiliated forms of "kindness"

- all opportunistic lexica of proclaimed,
compliantly advertised "sincerity"


November 22, 2008

lest I forget

I've returned to silence...
to exploit my right to liberty
to withdraw into myself... unencumbered

this wordless adventure
free from falseness and people productions
this sort of preschool life and its beyond
when an ugly force of words tried to occupy me

so, beauty may be relative
but no eye has yet been improved
with a regimen of words

welcome to nature's
wordlessness !

the longer one

lives and thinks

the more
the first twenty-five years
of learning
of experience
can be discarded

the second twenty-five years
can be totally disregarded
because now everybody around you is smarter
or are the smartest you'll ever meet

the third twenty-five years
make a return to some sort of infantilism possible,
its sleep destroyed by war

because now you can overlook the landscape
and appreciate that your garden was planted
with real flowers
with real eatable vegetables
with real -albeit left-over
bird song

while humanity keeps on preaching and hating
and warring and marching
to where?

three genders

that naturally live in some foreign languages
are not appreciated
by a two gendered culture
that boasts from
within a two gender language

in some areas
teaching such three gender grammar
would subvert the local 'moral economy'


moral.normal

when food was

rationed like coals, electricity and water

and oranges and bananas
were words in books

and all coins and paper money
deflated to worthlessness

we as boys read books,
saw history not as written texts

but saw refugees making their way through streets
and beyond streets

knocking at our door for food
where there was no food

the lone rationed slice of bread
was already eaten


October 11, 2008

AndreasToday October 11, 2008

2008-10-11 16-56-47.185.jpg

http://www.youtube.com/user/AndreasToday

August 21, 2008

when I was born

the world was mad

that was followed by 'victory'
before I entered school

that was followed by 'defeat'
that waited many years to turn into 'victory'

now that I'm closer to death
out of words and breath:

if repetition refuses its rhyme
unlike a victim of some norm

an impossible 'defeat'
conceiving itself
as nothing but an unthinkable

no matter

at what age you're now

language has its own time
and words repeat themselves
in their time
under different cover
as if new
new wars for better purposes
for better times

all that machinery functions
independently of you,

your time
when and where and how and why
you will be born as an element
within that language of time

the whole of school

and university
was a continuous struggle against 'groups' -
cliques of student's uniform minds
and their uniform bodies,

cliques of dependent professors
and their mind's handlers

it was never the courses you attended
but the visible human decay one witnessed
at the surfaces of language


it was a sort of 'rebellious' act
to not to do 'group spirit'
of not getting sucked into what the group wanted you to do

especially after the whole country had just been liberated
from one soul one mind one country indoctrination war syndrome
from church/state oneness that had ended in total war

so I carried my books always wrapped in paper,
brown or white or covered with nice wallpaper
or wrapped in yesterday's newspaper

nor would I ever wear a watch on my arm-
not to remove myself from punctuality
but remove my life
from authorities that gamed with humans
played with their time

group animals, agents of authority
that's what groups are instituted for

and there came a point in real time

when and where I gave up
on the spectacle of advertised
parading sincerity:

a never ending falseness of language games
postured in games
of bought bodies
as if 'acting' from sincerity
or from some honest aesthetics


it was no longer
AS IF kings of the medieval ages
had succumbed
to their 'higher' handlers

but how far
how much
inhumanity
will be recovered
from the rolling waves of time

Between not so arbitrary poles fluctuates
more, sometimes less
inhumanity

for which wars
serve other purposes:

they're not
in the business of teaching
moral lessons
nor writerly essays

but an unlife
that practices its remains
within hidden language

May 31, 2008

when my father was twenty-one years young

he went to art school in Munich...

that was four years after he was shot on the Western Front in France,
was already piled up among the dead

when a doctor walked by, discovered he was alive
and 'they' pulled out the about 3" bullet...
that my mother carried lifelong in her portemonnai


This is a pencil drawing: he did while at art school:

http://www.geocities.com/Eureka/Promenade/4098/CRChKreuzDeisenhofen1.jpg

here is the inscription on the Cross
in my father's handwriting at that time:

http://www.geocities.com/Eureka/Promenade/4098/CRHandschriftInschriftChKreuz1921.jpg


When I asked him about the motivation for this drawing
his only reply was always that he too was among the dead and he too came back to life...


My father always remained young;
my friends used to say that "I'm much older than my father"...

and my father always asked his father re the 29th of February
and his father always told my father to get his his own son
to be born on the 29 of February...

and so it turned out that I'm the son
who just turned seventeen on the 29th of February this year,
in 2008

http://www.geocities.com/Eureka/Promenade/4098/Kuenstler.htm

May 10, 2008

as an infant

I saw Berlin moving, shaking, burning, demolished -
I call that experience

when school started it was acting, show
by that time I was already used to watching
actors on a real stage

life-long watcher,
animals watch you too

language sort of lies away the human animal,
language remains cosmetic, expansive

a cover,
evasive

voice gets lost within experience
and after, words falsify the voice
turning experience into meaning

May 09, 2008

SOMEDAY you'll be sorry...


April 28, 2008

Evgeni Plushenko and Andrea Bocelli

April 10, 2008

sometimes

I see resemblance from when I was in first grade
and the Russian troops took over the whole block where we had lived

and teachers at school were always aggressive and not as peaceful as my parents
and some of the school boys were just as uncivilized

when we moved to the 'west'
there too, the Americans took over whole areas, streets and villas for their military

at least there was some more food; for milk you still had to bring your own bottle
and a loaf or less of rationed bread you took home under your arm

newspaper was still too precious: you needed it to wipe your arse with

anyway,
when the Berlin Wall came down
the 20th century came to an end and communism socialism collapsed

but what happened before came "back to life"
and my first reaction was that the American Democracy will be next to collapse,
being itself a child of the much anti-church French Revolution and its train of thought
preceding and succeeding

Much reminds me of my teachers from the first school year on
including the preceding war, the subsequent occupations, the poverty
and the many years of ruins and life ruined because of war, devastation, starving


We get fooled by this modern stuff, internet, cars that kill us, devastate health and environment

worst is, people in leadership roles have had not to learn much of what had happened
actually, the curricula now got far simpler, less demanding than when I was eight,
and to learn English, French, then at ten Latin and on and on through the school years

and teachers were always 'pro" the good old time or 'con' the 'present occupation'

so we boys stood with one foot in some reality,
with the other we existed from the food rationing


Language remains the same, negative, the sentiment still rich in prejudice,
wars and implicated churches forgotten, life and life lived disparaged by new faces,
same foul ideology yet different generation, same theology,
and sure they are as any ideologue the world has experienced in the past
and as if getting ready for a likewise yet unknown dismal future

April 06, 2008

i walked among

the ruins for more than twenty years

and then the smartest of them professionals
said: why didn't you stay there?


over sixty-thousand inhabitants of my home-town
were officially, legally according to law
murdered by the government,
many others got their death-penalty
\others got chained for telling jokes

all radios were confiscated
to 'save the system'
and if you didn't deliver
another death-penalty opportunity
arose

all during my one and only life-time

and
the professional idiot asked:
why didn't you stay in your home-town?

So, how do they- dogmatists et al,
define "home-town" ideology
in this life?

March 17, 2008

understanding the rural

a measured distance
from the theater-

the roles that play authenticity
as if projecting a 'naturalness'

will enlighten
the horrendous show
culture perpetrates

on those
who are totally scripted
to perform a falsity

that is neither authentic nor natural
but simply the animal
domesticated on the discursive pablum of ideology:

actors fallen into belief turned agents
parading as a form of ethical violence


one was always

in relation either to a space,
the four walls of a room

in relation to others
within that space,

and the subversive relation
between whoever was the conductor
lecturing his/her subservients
all locked-in within that space

each space was filled out with propaganda,
its converts,
its believers

each ideology dribbled on like rain
was obediently soaked up

from marxism to communism to religion to americanism
a submissiveness of mind and body

the conductor controlling all the voices-
a never ending monarchy of conformity
within a hierarchy

a polemicist theater, a show
same rhetoric, same repetitions

everyone went there like to a pissoir
and was handed a discourse ad hominem
as if under the influence of a 'higher' law
yet to come...


March 15, 2008

when one lives

lived
within different ideologies
that each drive languages

that underqualify and overqualify
redefining words and sentences

and life itself
as if one is human
merely as a by-product

you too come to realize
that all learning and practicum
all common sense derived from experience

turn into fictions
as if life never was
nor will be

in the end,
language never deals with life
only to be against it

as if life itself turns enemy,
a war reducing words

March 11, 2008

confluence

and the
Ides of March

how we boys saw history's contingencies
as 'today's' never vanishing possibility

January 02, 2008

julio iglesias & vicente fernandez

Julio Iglesias - Gozar la vida


JULIO IGLESIAS-LA GOTA FRIA

this was is will be elvis presley - young and beautiful


Elvis, so young and beautiful...


December 06, 2007

knowing how to read

before
school forces you
how to read

to trust an institution
to give you words

make you do how words connect
deliver 'their' wanted meaning to you

so you can repeat the circle endlessly
proudly and as if sincerely

yet still be fooled
by some believer

an expert of repetition
who blessed you by grading you

November 10, 2007

words

in the form of history
studied, understood, applied
a sort of repeatable matrix

same characters you meet over and over and over
so that only life itself becomes not a bore

but how language creates
the same types
to fit the same created constellations
that lead to war and wars

systems change

within a long cycle

so you're not surprised
that your judgement of forty or so years ago
proved intuitively
or based on real life experience
proved correct

managing by moving around
away from words that are indeed not real,
unreal the behaviour of those
who claim
under cover of their group's words
being within the words of that group,
as if 'they' speak "the truest" words

words remain objects
as much as they derive their fantasies
therefrom

November 06, 2007

as a boy

as a generic child really
I saw so much acting in front of me
on the stage, in the theatre

that I never lost that antenna for affective reactions
performed to some text, snippets of grandiose ideology,
dramaturgical theology, roles of bureaucrats,
or a factotum trained in the art of not plurally playing 'themselves'

in other words,
I never met people who are not possessed
by an affective performativity
linked to some law, to local prejudices,
to personal lies motivating their intentions

real -unencumbered- people
are never/seldom found
within a conformist/destructive culture...

October 24, 2007

start within yourself

not from within an other's ideal
stuck within a fixed idealistic ritual

a can of soup for false food
tasteless advertising,
trained appetite
fascinated by commercial seduction

that overloads you with a language not your own

ideas that posses you frame your nature
an ideal zoo animal

bereft of language that could have grown into freedom
freedom from coercion

from love, that language beast of propaganda
that advanced towards hatred

October 20, 2007

as school-boys

we visited as many zoos as possible

standing in front of the fences
boys and girls behaved contrary to the fenced-in inmates


boys and girls cajoling at the animals and soon against each other
their behaviour unschoolyard-like
soon turning into bullies
soon words turned against fellow humans

you could observe the teacher(s)
as if freed from the class-room
gesticulating as never before
in front of some of those fences

but some of us boys
always stood at a very far distance
so that none of those words would reach us

and the punishment meted out to the above bunch
-no, to the whole class-

was always 'wildly' opposed
by us, who took to the distance

and we opposed and opposed
in the name of our very own freedom:

our reality was based individually
never to be experimented with
collectively


September 23, 2007

Marcel Marceau

long before working in an office
before entering a school-room
I saw life performed on a stage
and on other stages

lifes around me were always performances:
military convoys or black Mercedeses filled with
defence lawyers going to Nuremberg...


life around me was always 'staged'
and wherever my father was 'invited' to go to
he took me with him
to observe,
to be a witness

of history's most unique moments...
some of its unique 'players'
and history's losers...


not sure anymore when and where
after Nathan the Wise
I went to experience Marcel Marceau...

we boys never knew Halloween's mass-culture masks
but we 'read' our friend's face when his parents spoke French
or other friend's parents spoke Esperanto
to hide their alleged sectrets from us boys

Marcel Marceau's language
was to be learned above all other languages
an unforgettable language

but just like in any language,
there are bad imitators:
real clowns, giveaways

never ever 'sincere' factotums
in whatever hierarchy
always deluded by group mentality

always unable to be singular,
always unable to be 'nothing'


September 12, 2007

early memories

of the child
in the to be boy

were formed by failures of humanity
when basement and bunker shook

when sleep was cut off
then divided

and rubble and ruins
no longer visible houses
turned into playgrounds

September 10, 2007

a cruising butterfly...

stopped by
landed right on my book while sitting outside on my garden bench
today at 13:50

just finished reading this:

"by distancing ourselves from every reason for fighting,
by achieving perfect moments,
which we know we can't surpass..."

(in George Bataille's Epilogue in History of Eroticism)

when I thought of these few sentences
-such a beauty-
with how many few individuals 'we' have reached the many perfect peaks !
of how many moments !
that could never be surpassed !

and each, and each moment a beauty
each individual individually a beauty that lingers on...


...when that butterfly landed on the white page opposite the above cited passage
sat there on the page in full sunshine
in all its beauty...

September 08, 2007

the formlessness

that I mentioned somewhere
created for us boys the necessary distance
but it was also to provoke others

with their 'no good boy' prejudices:
the language one elicits by 'being different'
and thus in turn the others ongoing stupidity sorted them out

while my friend's chauffeur
shut the door and we drove off..


wanting to be unlike others
to nearly sing the text I was reading to the class
between tears and laughter then
the goodness of a drawn-out orgasm
boys bragged about...
and wanted always more
and again and again then again
even in another language:

Lisbon while still under dictatorship
the blackness of the suits
unsmiling faces,
we went up to the Castle and looked west
into the sun

or the monks waiting walking naked into the Atlantic
so different from the monks that instructed in religion

and the boys who skipped class
and went deep into the dark forest

even on short winter days
the snow seemed always warmer

yes, the formlessness,
but as my father said, it must be pleasing to the eyes

it must be painterly, artistic, an unforgettable face
you would want to get closer to
to discover talk then walk and then discover fewer words

wasn't that the reason French, each word
that made us boys travel and travel to France
drink wine and discover more
inside that language
more than we could at home...

please! shy away from all form;
how many funerals and always that dark suit
and a darker tie !

but then, all that form and that very same constrained culture
destroyed itself, Jazz in the church for liberation dance
as if there was not a bombed out church near by

but the very same words
come back, always meant to come back
a warriors god never gets away from the living
no war is ever lost except to the dead

and so they shape once again everybody
to suit the old old fashioned form
the only one, the legal form,
law's unseen terror
walking in darkest suits


September 03, 2007

as if the affect

had been removed...

the adults created a 'gap' -
their very own 'untrustworthiness'
that we boys summarized as a 'false person'

these 'supervisory adults' teachers, managers et al
were 'ahead of us' with their behaviours

we boys had no secrets
that's why we could 'measure' behaviour

their 'perversions' were not articulated in language,
of course not, because they were 'inside a process of hiding'
a show of 'playing inspector' or cop or NAZI 'giving orders' to boys

or
to put it this way:
they themselves interfered with themselves
their behaviour gave them away as 'untrustworthy'

a genuine behaviour never 'masks' or 'performs'

boys had opinions on religion -
fathers or mothers came and 'liberated' their boys

August 31, 2007

it's about All of Me

"I write for myself and for strangers."

--- Gertrude Stein (February 3, 1874 – July 27, 1946)

August 27, 2007

truly independent

I was when I was "made" an internal auditor:
my one and only job was to keep my ' independence' intact

the whole humanity in that publicly traded company
turned idiotic, hysterical and the real human being awoke in them:
between advertising their church goings, their family multiplications
and adoptions, their ethical stance proofed non-existent

which reminded me years later of the same caliber
in the professors I encountered: same corruption
filled ethical air-bubbles, also smart masters of fraud

now as an auditor I did not even have an office,
they wouldn't give me a telephone either
so, I did everything in writing with proof of pudding attached
and delivered everything I wrote in person

to the president, to the chairman, to the comptroller, to the police

I 'audited' by walking around
just like years later I 'audited' some university classes,
I encountered the same human elements

one professor wanted me to put the American students ' to shame'
I told him that this is impossible in the name of the pursuit of happiness-
and fear interferes with learning, love your students!

and if people in leadership roles speak of 'sincerity'
watch the ideology that works in them,
with what 'honesty' they paved their career path
right into that very office they're sitting right now...

Yes, independence!
ask ten people whose mind slaves they are
how they got into this leadership position

One in position yelled at me: "You made yourself auditor.'
They were all 'military bodies'
controlling their very own flow of trust

yes as Independent auditor
you hear theatre where ever words speak and hide

August 25, 2007

experience

almost always separates from words
as if experience 'fights' language itself

or in the alternative
if experience isn't congruent with the symbolic realm
experience is made not to exist: it never was, it never happened

but experience will happen all by itself
against the universe (belief, ideology etc) of language

August 22, 2007

writing

as unnatural an intrusion from the outside
as unnatural as eliciting sex from the outside
via products, powder and lipstick and consumer what-have-you's

both outsiders fail to relate to an 'echo' from within

a dead cow requires much much more
to raise your appetite to some bloody yet to be fried steak

when Rock no longer danced but unlearned dancing-
relationships improvised their movements beyond genderlessness
and every body conformed, became simulacrum

now cow traders want calves to feed to the warriors that fight for 'real' life
that's why pro-creators go back to basics and peddle disgust and death
as if not to arrange for war but in the name of love's fictions


so too, writing remains a fiction,
like weight-lifting's ups and downs
masturbations in search for musles
as if a nice behaviour must be imposed from outside

speech and accumulation of words
suffer from proper application of procedures
like sexless sex serving assorted purposes

especially since the tv speaks endlessly and more versatile
than the tv's audience itself

long ago when the office girls in the office

got drunk in the office at Christmas...

I was reminded once more not long ago
of the public whores in Europe
that kept their respectable distance
towards us males


as if philosophy and literature
have not died out on the road...
as if sex doesn't matter


But sex matters in procreational territory
and someone was able to turn all males victim
as if hysterics make a natural home
within an old
very old norm


in contrast to

I never wore a wrist watch
If the train was late, well, a watch didn't accelerate speed nor lateness

I never 'socialised' with people
whose language repertoire was controlled by the clock

As a boy, my father took me to theater rehearsals,
I always sat in the middle of the first row:
life on the stage was always imperfect

there were no spectators to distract me

an anonymous spectator mass
ever since impress me as humanities well ordered falsity

I never got used to television addicts

I always wrapped my school-books in newspaper;
then my father gave me expensive wallpaper that
caught the attention of my conformist 'mates'

I never had a gym bag;
once someone gave me two gym bags to take my stuff to Europe;
that told me I had too much stuff; all that stuff I left behind in Europe

I have no television, no radio, and thank you very much:
no car

I like differences and they're hard to find in conformity land

mind you, when I was a scholl-boy, we still lived in post-hitler-land
while on the 'other side' the last and final liberation
of ' the most liberated people in the world' was hailed:
they needed a Wall to proof it, a gated country as
if liberated from all unfreedom

as if freedom is a multi-annual perennial:
every year one wonders IF there's yet another bloom to come...


there was always the place where we lived and then there was the garden
and later, there was the forest

one was involved in survival,
the garden and the forest were the distance from corrupt civilisation

once living space and garden were gone, not confiscated
but 'liberated' for the 'new' species of men,

foodless living reduced everone to proper dimensions;
no one talked of 'spirituality' - that's consumer society surplus talk

poverty was not idealism nor mismanagement,
but pure plots and politics of a to be re-mastered humanity;
as if humans without rights are collective humanity


lots of contrasts to be added, but additions never benefit
an already perfected people:
that's why they only need children by the dozen,
each one leaning -as if natural - pro-creatively

like war-machines that fight life

I always skated on every pond that froze;
there was always a 'friend' that desparately unfroze

my mother always liked my friends
my father disliked it very much when I compared myself to OTHERS

one friend came with his motor-bike to fix it up in our garden:
my mother was furious that he uses me
what his high valuta parents forbid him to do
on their repected property

father said, people have a way to USE other people
all the way up to the party apparatus and their aligned churches

my teacher talked of the state that destroys individualism-
the state needs heroic sacrificers instead

you can never compare
only contrast some of my teachers who survived dictatorship
with the GI Bill professors who 'lived in the land of the free'

everything is past tense


since I was Cassius who 'always knew too much,'
my 'mates' always urged me to sell my voice to the radio
scary thought...

my uncle 'worked for the radio" and Hitler gave him the death penalty
which was never executed because Hitler shot himself first
while the Russians conquered what there was to conquer

one aunt knew China first hand

another aunt never stopped dreaming of her two sons, 18 +
coming back from Stalingrad

my father always reminded everybody
how everybody went nuts
when Hitler was handed power

another aunt was run over by a truck

August 19, 2007

study games

long enough
from country to country

you'll see
that the evolving rituals
of obeying rules of games

outlast
the proverbial rule of law

so, where you have fun as if uncalculated
the mind gets sucked into a true bind


funny

how writers and teachers
reduced their writing and teachings
to a dandelion and a lone bird
sittin' silently on some twig on a leaveless tree

war stripped everything down
even teachers were stripped off their dogma

food was gone, churches in rubble
and soup was delivered to school-boys in large drums

school every second day during winter
free soup included

some boys were idiots like warring fathers
some girls still danced hitleresque

propaganda this way and that way
you didn't know which way
the class would turn

some boys

told that mother told
to touch girls instead

some boys obeyed
and masturbated away
out of sight

yet some boys
started praising their balls instead
and boys now tickled boys' balls
as if mother told it exactly right


PS
why mothers ?
most boys had no father left due to war 'sacrifice' (Kriegsopfer)

language does it again

"What is the use of being a boy if one is going to grow up to be a man?"

as Gertrude Stein (February 3, 1874 – July 27, 1946) said.

August 15, 2007

what a day...

August 06, 2007

I see now

how we partied all night, went to school or work
and were neither bored nor tired

this fresh fruit and vegetable diet from the garden my parents had
was so natural that I come to see now
how naturally I grew up, was fed by nature

I remember my mother in the middle of the night urging me to go to bed and sleep...


this diet over the last 13 month, since July 2006,
turned my sleep back to where it was when I was a teenager

Up 18 hours, getting 'tired' at around 5:30 in the morning,
like Picasso getting up by mid-day or one or so...
(Nietzsche's 'turning point')

this hasn't changed much, even so there was a short period
I would get tired late in the evening, nevertheless like a monk
I would still wake up at 2:00 and continue awake non-stop

Swedenborg used to sleep 'as needed' whenever that was...
ate strictly his semolina with milk and apparently nothing else...


now I don't watch TV, don't drive a car, books in the public library
don't carry the stuff I study...
so these Prairies here are another planet for me,
here people/talk and their hysterics
at first reminded me of my work last century
in a mental institution


it seems more and more that the ambiguity of 'madness'
is turning once again into an even ' greater normality '

and 'live people' I observe are extremely dead and univocal,
especially since my ears turned away from their rhetorical perversities

March 11, 2007

Vigorous Intellects Unite !

"Curiosity is one of the permanent and certain characteristics of a vigorous intellect."

--- Samuel Johnson (1709 - 1784)

January 02, 2007

if your feelings

are nothing to some
then all words learned are nothing but bought slaves

November 23, 2006

as boys at the beach

with our books

the surface of our texts
was still separate
from the surfaces of our skin

our language had not yet fabricated a body
while our touch still surfed our skin
a random walk in tandem
free from necessity

just before our teachers' language
penetrated our minds

deifying language's perverse complicity
feeding minds with ideologized bodies

October 09, 2006

we boys noticed

more respect and fewer invasions
by the church and our teachers;

as if something like human dignity
and tolerance towards our youth
was turned into practice

this in direct contrast to the generation
that was our age under the dictatorship;

some of these types could never shed their authoritarien s[k]in
and carried this into life
as if democracy is merely a game,
a temporary diversion

September 22, 2006

learning several languages

gains you your freedom -at least within-
when you're condemned
in the words of the other language

when culture changes
and sincerity betrays,
truth beyond reach
no matter how astute your observation

ready made phrases have no feeling in them,
so how do people stay human
continue to pretend as the reasonable animal
when your language punishes not you
but your kind

and the a malicious smile
wins the game

September 20, 2006

good feelings

September 16, 2006

wisdom versus life lived

"I don't think you get wiser because you got older...
you got to make a conscious choice
to become more liberated more tolerant
more whatever more insecure whatever...
the more you learn about yourself
the more insecure you become...."
--Boy George: Much Music April 2001 interview
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-B9v5bSjnk

September 15, 2006

Schengen

Raphael haroche "sur la route"

Boy George - The Crying Game

September 14, 2006

we boys

had some friends,
boys who had no father,
fathers the war had shot down

the bullet in my mother's purse
was brought home from war
and was no longer lodged in my father's lung

he was seventeen and already among the dead,
patriotic madness poisened families for all time

and all was lost thrice
in two wars,
in-between two wars

and when my father met us boys
he was alive as if he was still seventeen

madmen

determined our boys' life
because we played in their rubble
after the madmen were gone

and people moved by by the thousands
and the trains were filled to above their roofs

and hundreds came to our doors
asked for food

churches bled their sins
hiding as if for eternity
under their own ruins

and a madman
entered our history books

we boys entered life
as if after history
as if history happens only in books
as if madmen congregate only on theatre's stage

as if the theatre of madness had closed down

August 20, 2006

trust is a matter

of discourse
discourse an embedder of trust

we boys walked for miles and miles
and talked each other into trusting each other
long convoluted sentences filled with other people's ideas

that was last century

now when and where do trusting discussions happen?
ad homina plenty even professors do them
but trusting discussions?
going on a long itineray developing an idea?

life stories?

time for life, time for the story of life,
for the drama that history knows is re-approaching once more?

("What are you talking about? is a disciplinary command! )

trust needs to be emdedded
like the long advertising letter making the sales proposition

to suck you into a marriage with an object
like honey of the flesh eating plant
that catches the insect

sweetening the laws of marriage
that is putting trust into the paragraphs of the law

the sweeter the promise the tougher the law

What a transaction for life!

August 17, 2006

the real stuff

so we boys took no pictures,

some insisted on memories that "will last forever"

anyway, here's a beginning of a timeline:

http://www.ruthenberg.com/timeline.html

I like to look at myself
I still like very much the boy I used to be,

unemcumbered loyalty to myself, all the way my way
can't compare me with anyone,
I'm too much intertwined with nature

nature is reliable
money can't buy you nature

so we boys knew where culture becomes parasitic
envious of nature

I stick with nature fending for beauty against culture

only beauty sings and plays....

August 08, 2006

wasn't history

for us boys always between secularism and theology;
both their narrations leading right into our lives:
the destruction surrounding us nicely explained
from the beginning of history:
the told tragedies that crowded our streets
we saw nothing but repetitions

The old Roman Wall now joined by the latest ruins;
one teacher another teacher fleeing into suicide
leaders fleeing into suicide
others hiding behind grey faces saving their skull

there's no victory, only an interregnum that last a life-time
and reversal and repetition continue as before:
there's no country that does not fail
no country without generals

even the finest marble figurines self-destruct
and we boys knew all art
artistic freedom perishes

no matter how big the art galleries
and how forgotten the artist

July 20, 2006

we boys

knew only language and another language and another language;

all force beyond it, force applied to language driving ideas...
we were surrounded by its very results

you either doubt what you see
or question language you hear;

sometimes you don't see yet,
but you can take the temperature of the language
you're surrounded with

what we saw everywhere was an outcome:
words we spoke in turn questioned those who taught and trained us

NOT 'us' - but you and me and him and him and her
we were not yet a group,
everybody's voice was different:

we were not made to believe
while we tried to understand the ghosts within language


inadvertently

the more languages you learn, the more your very own language and history relativizes,
better yet
you live in a morass of history
exactly when 'everybody' thought
it would "end" differently...

to 'make a difference' fantasy plays with language,
fantasy re-arranges and manages history,

fantasy makes guilty according to formula
those who were formerly praised for their astuteness

and thus history gets re-written according to some matrix
where all roles are reversable,
where words bring to light their double,
where the political animal rededicates human nature:
battles won turn now into losses

and only because you command a language
and become her subject
this does not mean you understand its history
and its philosophy that keeps shaping you into her loyal servant:
there's a chain of blood that never frames reality

if questions do not arise
language becomes bereft of its utility-
all language turns uni-lateral:
a very old order forges towards re-establishment

thus progress is as coded as is 'universal' modernity,
language only placates a coercive order beneath it-
language always fails

June 10, 2006

no word

can describe you:

I can't describe you with my teacher's words
his feelings spoke in obedience of some proscribed curriculum
words of approved production

to put you into words
to put you grammatically in place

I would have to turn myself into a narrative
with words of lies that would freeze your liveliness


June 08, 2006

the teacher asked us boys

how do you know what I say is right

and the other teacher asked us boys
how do you know what you translate
is what it says it is

and the other teacher asked me
why I always laugh and smile

always the meeting of bodies
in search for words

and so we carried to the beaches
our vocabulary book

letting boys

minding the store
was easy, because you learned to trust nature in each of us boys
unencumbered by cultural influences and family power plays;

always aloof of all those that throw around 'official' language
in their respective dictatorship roles we moved through nature
rather than an already devastated culture

the mourning ritual was incongruent with the way technology was played with;
we were so natural to each other that we could not sit down, abandon each other
and relate to the televison screen or radio talk - these THINGS were most unnatural

we would rather walk together than get a ride in a car
or use up a bus ticket - we walked and talked and probably applied languages
we brought home from classes

so the surprise of the boys of giving the boys the keys and minding the store
stunned many boys; no there was no secret; neither the keys nor the money in the till:
no, it was total trust in the boy's nature, total immersion of his being
into a reality of his very own creative being within,
not one bit of a syllable of any doubt in his integrity or his atachment to THINGS

if you can relate to Shakespeare philosophically
you need not put on any costume or self-deceiving camouflage
and simulate life

the eye does not act

your voice is nature
our ears were in tune with words from within our nature

May 28, 2006

and up they grew

and false they turned
and their feelings shunned and dead

they carried on with false words like slaves must carry water
and each word testified religiously to their making sport

and each word copulated with the order of the day
all rules became a mission's lie to be fought for

they were bought out by the state
of things their greed loved now

their life hardended into concrete as if a lie turns true when engraved in stone

no dividing line

entered our spaces

we boys were with our feet on the ground
and swimming in the ocean we were weightless

and nights we rose with the stars
yes, and a nightingale was mediating with his song

one friend cried
and we crawled into each other's tears

and we recalled each other's ways:
Promise! I'm always your friend

tents were filled with rivalry

and each night
we boys moved
to another tent
until we came to rest with our best friend

sunset and sunrise
had their purpose again

we had no radios
we boys lived within our very own words

some brought their books and
we conjugated each other's words
we grew together like a classic's text

the small umbrella

was so useful that all rains brought us boys closer together

when we left the tent
assorted rain from above was our friend

and we walked ever so close
towards the thick forest
and then entered as if into the greenest cave
that could stop for us all rain

it's the unknown boy

that comes and cuts the grass
never to see the seeds of grass

his mind's behaviour pushes ahead
without regret he cuts grass short and orderly
pushing forward grass technology
to round out the mortgage on the house

and if his mind should ever grasp a meadow
that could have grown limitless from all seeds unseen
the unknown boy will be called something like a grown man
who was not cut short by nature
but apprenticed and then made use of
by culture's sport

April 30, 2006

the nonsense

of sports and games
became obvious when we never chose sides

thus we avoided intrusive psychological training
getting sucked into complicity,
false words of bravado,
not getting habituated to artificial victories

sport events were like floods and weather unruly groupings
and took on a strange seriousness as if religion found new roles
to frame the body as its latest weapon

yet minding our distance created new types of enemies,
provoked a not so harmless politics against friends


April 29, 2006

pity not language

each word
a construct for an education,

but remember the boy's voice
the singing of his sentence
his echoes so much pleased our ears
whereever his voice found a home

then his whispers that raised and raised our ears,
his voice brought him always closer
his voice was much better than words can ever do


not remembering the words he spoke
not his voice that trembled

probably his breath and more
turned his absence into what now feels like absence felt

April 02, 2006

eating books

"I devour alternately a page and a morsel.
It seem as if my book were dining with me."
- J.J. Rousseau (1712-1788)


March 29, 2006

better boys we were

admittedly
silken shirts made us touchable
and sensitive to the colours of the day

but wasn't the grass much greener?
the lake's water much warmer to our nakedness?

our tears much friendlier to us all?

the blinding sun sinking into the ocean
weren't we thinking about the future?
yet dreaming about another night?

all this before we were back into our neck ties
and suits to carry our books back to the smiles
that were none

February 22, 2006

an essay

the essay you write best
when you don't know
what an essay is

as long as you procreate because you think you must,
because all life is an assignment
and all institutions exist to manage you

your focus remains exterior,
focused on those who command,
guide your thought via their language


the best essay for the boy was always the one with the least fore-knowledge


the theme blooms from within itself

knowledge itself is never creative;
knowledge is serial, repetitive description, Essay's killer

a brain is not a maschine
but the place where lust makes its home

unkind words destroy some brain


so it was that the first sentence -sitting in the classroom-
was always the most difficult to get a handle on

like meeting a new friend when words don't help
because your eyes already speak

seeing the boys around you writing and wringing out word after word,
watching these movements and this obedience...
the next best thing closer to absurdity

time would move on, and everybody had already written much,
but my first sentence didn't make it yet to paper

what I much later found out about "closure"
was exactly this: my sentences could not end in my mind,
no thought yet
only words adding up, descriptive stuff, not worth their ink

and if a word was jotted down
it would create more words around itself,
but not a thought

you never fall in love with words,
these enemies of thought and wasters of paper

intimate thoughts not sentences
were the richness of our friendships
towards overflow of our feelings

not rich in words but touched we were by our thoughts
that carried us into timeless lust for life,
a rythm that no dance can capture
no bodies can perform

deep inside that lust you're no longer exterior,
you see no longer any surfaces,
you're no longer transported by words or inside them
and never driven by words that train you

the peak is of such a beauty that thought demands more beauty
and the next peak is the brain's word removal tool
ad infinitum

thus friendship in the deep of your existence
is never stored inside any word

then the essay's theme found ITSELF
deep inside
a sentence made up of a pregnant thought
upon which to build itself
into some structure that delivered sense
to the outside world

It was always the shortest essay,
shortest, because the theme
removed all words that surrounded us,
and rose from the lusts we boys surrendered to

And the next week
the best essay was read out aloud,
and now my voice took over
where words alone can't reach

and thus my essay went full circle
around and around and around

as if to create a memory
to store these treasures, to recall our sensitive feelings...

from this distance

we boys looked at the objects that were texts;

we were still together to be together as if together for ever,
nothing needed to be decided;

language was felt and silence was soft and sweet,
nothing needed to be measured by any text

no clock could stop the heat of the day
no hourglass could exhaust our ever longer nights

it was a taste that gave us reason
to write our very own script

we listened, we heard each other's voice
our ears, our mouths were one