D I U e m n s a i c g v r i e i n r p a s t r e i y of a n s 1-21-96 #33 Write something Don't rush me I need to come alive again... And to enter into a certain unknown "RELUCTANT COLLABORATION" _Birth to Birth_ NOTE: Some of our readers may remember a wild night seven years ago. Billed as an "astral convention" at the Antarctic Atemporal Autonomous Zone (Cape Longing, Antarctic Peninsula). At the designated time over one hundred people in Europe and North America succeeded in projecting consciousness to the citadel on Cape Longing. Records of their experiences were sent to Hakim Bey, who gathered them in a little book and distributed copies to the participants. I've often though about that night and how we brought that marvelous fantasy to life for a few hours. I've thought that perhaps we should repeat the experiment once a year - or more often. Hakim Bey, on the other hand, had no desire to play host again, and thought it best to leave it our little secret. Imagine my surprise when I received the following communique from our Moorish brother, Harpocrates Ben Ishmael Bey: -J.K. A.A.A.Z. THE ANTARCTIC ATEMPORAL AUTONOMOUS ZONE CAPE LONGING, ANTARCTIC PENINSULA To the Staff and associates of the Moorish Observatory, Seattle, Washington, In the Year 1994 of the Common Era. Esteemed Moors and Fellow Travelers: As you may recall, I set out from Seattle in January of your present year, offering no clue as to my destination. Now you know. When I arrived at the citadel I found everything just as we had left it some seven years ago. Not a soul to be found, tho the place still seemed to echo with the merry making of that memorable night. Soon realized that the faint sounds of jollity were coming from below me. And so I found my way to the cellars, and then the sub-cellars, and finally to a steep spiral staircase leading deep beneath the earth's frozen surface. At last I emerged into a vast realm within (beyond) the world where I found, to my astonishment, that our long ago revel is still going on. Difficult as it may be for you to imagine, you are all here, amongst a great multitude of strangers, and in the company of all the Saints of Jubilation of all times and places. It has taken some getting used-to, this existence outside of time. I will give you some time to think about it. I am now sending you an introductory pamphlet I've compiled, but I'm sending it to your summer address. Also sending further instructions to your future. Please publish these dispatches as they arrive. All will be made clear by your year 2002. For your present it shall be enough for you to wonder at the possibilty that all of you are also here with me, and to begin to employ creative imagination to acclimate yourselves to the idea that you are always in at least two places at once. Hope you're having as much fun there as you are here! Cheers! -Harpo That is all we've received to date. Neither Troy or I have been able to reach Cape Longing to verify or discredit Harpo's story. We are anxious to hear from anyone who has. ---------------------------------189372944715935 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii This is a token of gratitude ---------------------------------189372944715935 Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable Content-Type: text/plain today we made great strides towards the unification of a peaceful world. This day has been ordinarily pushed together as no day in present times. So we are grateful to have this oportunity to realise dreams of past future and the now. Listen as sound slide tides wake as hands vault inside believe as minds lift the haze and raphsody realised as we were so we are Together we have built houses and shared loves Together the day has brought forth salutations and comutations. We have continued torads a path without regards for soldiers and still place cherished beliefs in the gathering of nations . As we were together and shared the wonders of hearing good we walked the deapths and navigated the streams places caves in the sanctity of delerious thieves swore to unscene deletants and regarded the hopes of so little in comparison to the needy few and now are . Just ---------------------------------189372944715935-- Conference of the Birds, 1-15-96, ZKSC, Santa Cruz Groupe Musical du Kurdistan/ Kanian/ De Soran a Hawraman Mohamed Ibn Fares/ Yahya Omar Qal/ La Musique de Bahrein Hoang-Yuy/ Loi Song Nui/ Secret Museum of Mankind Volume 1 (anonymous)/ Midili/ Music of the Yi People of Yannan, China Revolutionary Ensemble/ New York/ The People's Republic Chico Freeman/ The Source/ The Outside Within ... Ritmo Oriental/ Lagrimas Negras/ Histroia de la Ritmo Volume 1 Maria Bethania/ Um Jeito Estupido de te Amar/ Autografos de Sucesso Max Roach/ Mendacity/ Percussion Bittersweet Tau Fa Linare/ Mamerika/ Jive Nation: The Indestructible Beat of Soweto Volume 5 Teofilo Chantre/ Segredo y Morebeza/ Terra & Cretcheu Abelardo Barroso/ Alborada/ Cuba, Es Que Linda Cuba Abu Griesha/ (from an untitled cassette) Salamat w/ Le Musiciens du Nil/ Kadabin/ Salam Delta Jayne Cortez and the Firespitters/ Drums Everywhere Drums/ Poetry and Music ... William Parker/ Testimony of the Stir Pot/ In Order to Survive ... John Coltrane/ Reverend King/ Cosmic Music Cecil Taylor Workshop Ensemble/ Legba Crossing/ Legba Crossing Manju Gupta/ Sabare Basre Bhalo/ Songs of Atul Prosad * The Last Days of the White Race Radiofree North America 1/19/96 all selections from _Poems For The Millennium_, Jerome Rothenberg and Pierre Joris, eds. (UC Press, 1995) Edith Sodergran: I will save the world. That is why Eros' blood is coursing through my lips and Eros' gold runs through my tired curls. I need only to look, weary or in pain: the earth is mine. When I lie exhausted on my bed I know: in this weakened hand lies the fate of the earth. It is power that trembles in my shoe, it is power that moves in the folds of my dress, and it is power, fearing no abyss, that stands before you. (Instinct, 399) Anna Akhmatova: The sentence...and at once tears, Now everything has been taken, The rest of life, torn from her heart, Knocked backward by a hoodlum And yet she walks...stumbles...alone... Where are they now, unwilling friends Of years in Hell? (Dedication, 586) Laura Riding: What to say when the spider Say when the spider what When the spider the spider what The spider does what Does does dies does it not Not live and then not Legs legs then none When the spider does dies Death spider death Or not the spider or What to say when To say always Death always The dying of always Or alive or dead What to say when I When I or the spider No I and I what Does what does dies No when the spider dies Death spider death Death always I Death before always Death after always Dead or alive (Elegy In A Spiders Web, 637) Lorine Niedecker: We approach the dignity of the ad. Or successfully maintain a humourous relation between the ayes and the nose (got to give the asses an eye) Faces slander O I see faces slander. (News, 661) Muriel Rukeyser: Many-spanned, lighted, the crest leans under concrete arches and the channelled hills, turns in the gorge toward its release; kinetic and controlled, the sluice urging the hollow, the thunder, the major climax energy total and open watercourse praising the spillway, fiery glaze, crackle of light, cleanest velocity flooding, the moulded force. (The Dam, 724) Diane di Prima: If he did not come apart in her hands, he fell like flint on her ribs, there was no middle way, the rocks screamed in the flowing water; stars dizzy w/pain, if he was not daisies in her soup he was another nettle in her hair, she stumbled crazy over the stony path between slanderous trees; even field mice knew she called the shots, dimensions of the obsidian cross he hung on, singing in the sun, her eyes cloudy w/nightmare, she grinned baring her wolf's teeth.... (from Loba, Part I, 780) begin Here Every object/subject, or occasion of possible experience goes from being known/unknown, lost/found somewhat by other 'occasions'; misused or even maimed by a misunderstanding of its function/virtue/ nature; harnessed (if it survives continued & initial contact) in accordance with its indifferent, wonderful or unknown redundancy, until it is finally freed by a correctivism of individual & inter- dependent understanding (when the energy of meaning is kenned swimming it in the abyss flow). Winnowing existial logics hubba hubbaing pro- pinquities & overall gestalts, correctivism puts us & the polly-universe up against an alinement that allows for the greatest liberty to will the will of the all & the each. Once a being or 'occasion' is differentiated as 'sense-data', 'thought' or an'object/subject' via empiricism ( following Bertrand Russell's scientific philosophy of everyday life) neutrality which is necessary for there to be 2 or difference in any 'arrangement' becomes as Russell once proposed a monism, this 'neutral monism' or God as nothing (no-thing) (the context by which anything may exist) loves being as a non- being enough to caress its death by drawing or 'knowing' the 'wowf' , the chance /chaos of every 'occasion'. Therefore, the narcisistic nemasis moat is agape: every object/subjects' inherent wonder, never totally kenned (killed as a difference into a tautological metaphor -oneness) since the all of each must be beyond agreement-knowledge for it to be independent (like your mother loves you no matter what you do, just because you exist) this unconditional attraction of nothingness to unknown agreement, open- ness to integrity is a recognition of the mystery, wonder of every each & a necessary dynamism for whatever is, the 2. While & when we, because of our lack of an instinctual understanding of the non-authoritarian coordination (which gives us & everything total freedom) still view & act upon ourselves & the 'world' in a discursive way (as if we 'knew' permanent hierarchies or any form of absolutism was a foothold of the ravens) let us correct toward pure beginnings. By this I mean that both the usefulness, what 'something' is good for & the unknown/wonder of that 'something' must be juggled symoetaneously by the being of the temporarily enslaver of that 'something'. For every each let us ask: why they are here, what they balance & lastly how may we connect with them, keeping the integrity of what they are & what they may become (nomos & eros), questioning & acting with the overall 'purpose' of freeing ourselves & everything. My garbage is beautiful & I love it, it's mysterious, it contains the virtue of energy if nothingelse & I can use it in a recycling relationship that will free it & myself toward a will to will a greater will. Wonder & attraction holds all such- ness together from the outside or other. Our wonder & respect keep us toying with destruction, but of course all perishing keeps the energy in another form & therefore is always totally destroyed so there can be only karmic or reincarnate setbacks from unaesthetic death. Nightmares happen because we wake up thereby 'killing' our multivalent adventuring dream; once survival brain dependence is least necessary - like Henry David Thoreau's Government- we will be freer to feel our whole dreams being made solid enough to hold our actual dance. Our building of close- to-tautology- instrumentality-computor- 'brains' has at first brought feeling words back into acceptance, after a reduced 'clear' behaviorist span, but this adventure of discovery & creation has put the poets' known-intuition into technology-instrument-correspondent-reality- discursive-world for the development of aristotle machines to do our expanding survival modes. So from ideas become madeup-what-is-objectivity (somewhat) & from the action of objectivity comes ideas (the chemical/ electrical orgasm of thought to hopefully 'theeling')(thought & emotion combined that comprises leadership or 'right action'). This feedback or loop (pelican klinebottle) of thought into action , action into thought supports Doris Lessings dictum that idealism & nominalism or spirituality & materialism are at one in the sense that they come out of each other & that both contain the other (somewhat/partially). Induction & deduction are just tools that help us get a handle on whatever is here now once forever. - to be continued - Purveyors of the IU were recently informed that there was a word left out of the sonnet published in diu 28, thereby "hobbling the meter." Here the sonnet is re-presented in its entirety: Never read your own shit, because it stinks-- the recipe is too involved for it to flow so easily whene'er we sit intent on hatching answers for the Sphinx like butterflies cocoonless from the knit brow of a carpet-bagger's errant moth or Cretans lying in a Theban broth innoculated by Harmachis's spit. But O! the stylus beak of distant Thoth pecks grains of hunted gold from chaffless script in vain; and from the ravenous crypt quoth "Never mind" the courteous cobalt-blue- haired Averill, armed with lettering chipped from a cookbook dry Van Wettering knew. ("i forget what mushrooms we were eating at the time.") * If you are interested in receiving DIU, send a subscription request which says SUBSCRIBE DIU-L your name to listserv@cnsibm.albany.edu you'll be asked to confirm this request detailed instructions are given still performing via the logic of snowflakes of given season. all DIU transmissions archived at the Electronic Poetry Center on the University at Buffalo Web-server: http://wings.buffalo.edu/epc/ezines/diu contribute to DIU via e-mail to cf2785@cnsvax.albany.edu thank you!