Tag Archives: object

Like Being in a Black Hole

Wind from a Black Hole (Illustration, M. Weiss, NASA) – What a romantic notion!

Missing this special guy – yes this lovely Welsh guy who I have seen five months ago –  is a bit mad, so I will be told by you without doubt. I still dream, not that often anymore, of his touch and our kisses and I am longing for this intoxicating chemistry called lust or love or desire. I wished that dopamine and oxytocin would flood my system and flush me into the sea. I remember his neckline and the blood flowing through his veins, the trust he must have had in me, a virtual stranger, as he slept so well and happily, while I was waking over him and watching his nostrils going up and down. He might sleep like this every night, alone or with a lover, just sleep like nobody else were there, while I cannot sleep because I am overwhelmed by the beauty of another breathing being, lying besides me in semi-fetal position, having one arm wrapped around me. So, I am a romantic, still feeling the touch, still seeing films, these visual memories,  of us undressing and making love, touching and kissing each other,  ALL  time getting lost in a black hole. Condensed and far too heavy is this now, gravity drawing me in and not letting me go. I have fallen into this virtual black hole and spin there like a chaotic thunderstorm coming to rest occasionally, doing things like watering flowers, cooking a meal or writing a text.

Music: Muse. Supermassive Black Hole. 2006. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xsp3_a-PMTw

Photo source: nasa.gov

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Can One Drown in a Fata Morgana?

Walking through the desert in rubber boots with an umbrella and a tissue sticking in HER nose, she noticed a waterhole quite far away. It was so seductive, so mercurial and beautiful. She had wandered for a long time and was thirsty. The puddle told her softly, ‘Come nearer, I will give you whatever you need and even more’. The nearer she came, the further away the puddle seemed to move. HIS siren-like voice promised her richness, while she was dying of thirst.

The world had been told that she had drowned in a Fata Morgana.

Music:

Sting. Desert Rose. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C3lWwBslWqg&ob=av3e

Films:

Werner Herzog. Fata Morgana. 1970. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZX45lVaGu8

Erik Satie/Rene Clair. Entr’Acte. 1924. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mpr8mXcX80Q

Photo source: Gudrun Bielz

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Filed under Confessions, death by numbers, objects I hate, objects I love

A feeling of mortality – Allergies 6

Wool

Fluff lover wore this soft and cuddly yellow angora jumper, keeping her warm in winter and making her feel like a soft yellow duckling. Never mind that somebody had told her that she looked like a corpse, the yellow not going well with the paleness of her skin. Never mind that her lover, the winter-man, was a lover of wool and angora, of cashmere and finest merino wools. Never mind that he did not mind that every time she kissed him  colourful fibres invaded her body, went into her nose, stuck to her skin and blurred her vision. Perhaps this was an advantage, as she did not see him that well, hidden behind a flurry of fibres that  made their dedicated way into  her system with the message: KILL. Her runny nose showed no mercy; and beauty is in the eye of the beholder, she was told – so runny nose, red and covered in woolly stuff, could not have cared less.

Red runny nose screamed for Vaseline and looked like a shiny example out of a medical textbook. Runny eyes stared angrily red at the world and tried to focus on an image of beauty and reality that had turned into the dance of fibres embracing the world with their dangerous moves. Her airways started to swell and ticklish stuff went down her throat and made her cough at the wrong moment. So she swallowed a bit of her food, while the other bits went down her trachea, normally a place reserved for air pumping through.

If she only could fall asleep, forgetting about fibres and wool, about winter and summer lovers, about spring and autumn loves. If she only could find a way out of allergy land. Saltwater sprays to clear her nose, antihistamines to make her feel better, regretfully having stopped drinking red wine, nebulisers and other fancy stuff have made her tired of wearing wool. Not wearing wool is one solution and carefully choosing a lover not wrapped in fluffy wools a necessity.

Allergies against lanolin or chemicals in wools are most common.

Are allergies for real? http://io9.com/5875793/are-allergies-for-real

Wool allergy. http://www.allergyreliefexpert.com/wool-allergy/

Music:

WOOL Remix http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fs0jBcwJWI4

Implantation. Choose your lover 1984. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m0vXO1Q3Mag

Photo source: globaltextiles.com

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A feeling of mortality – Allergies 4

What do the smell of flowers and the smell of decay have in common? Perfume.

This woman with the rich perfume that smelt like musk mixed with oil of Neroli and other strange scents bent over and touched her skin. A red rash started that spread over her body with the speed of light. Her eyes and nose became runny; and rivers of fluid streamed down her face, only to be collected on the floor of the tube, Central Line in London, as she was heading towards Bond Street Station. Ironically, she wanted to buy a perfume.

The shop assistant had assured her that only natural ingredients and no chemicals  had been used for this special aroma. What an irony, as if nature were free of chemicals. She talked to her, at her and continued babbling, spraying her with nature’s most chemical scents, tickling her skin, her hair and her nose with strange flavours. Her breathing became shallow; and she had to concentrate on the shop assistant’s words, words that had become meaningless as breathing had become essential. Nature tickled her way down her throat into her bronchi; and she gasped for air. Nature’s toxicity had occupied her body via aromas that promised heaven and seduction. Heavy essences of something had polluted the air in the shop; and misty stuff covered everything around.

Quote: Hypersensitivity to perfumes is the most common contact allergy in adults. … (http://medicineworld.org/stories/lead/2-2009/even-natural-perfumes-may-cause-allergies.html)

Without the promise of seduction, the perfumes created by magicians and chemists, without the smell of orchids and acetone, we would feel naked in the eyes of the others.  Perhaps pheromone perfume is the answer. A shame that pheromones are odourless.

Music: Love the world. Perfume. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ykt-e6xPtZU

Lit.: Patrick Suskind. Perfume: The Story of a Murderer. Penguin. 1987

Film: Perfume. Tom Tywker. Trailer. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R6prLSE3Acc

Photo source: mini-perfume.co.uk

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A feeling of mortality – Allergies 3

Unter den Linden  –  Under the linden trees

Music: Johann Strauss III. Unter den Linden. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=86ERe7U31Ag

These lovely human doves are kissing each other under the linden tree and not thinking of the danger looming. Linden pollen are flying through the air and landing on their skins, finding their way into the airways and sticking to the mucous membrane. Drink your linden blossom tea, has mother said; and the lovers have done so in the past. So they kiss each other and exchange millions of pollen that happily wander down into their lungs and dance their dance of survival there.

http://www.phadia.com/en/Allergen-information/ImmunoCAP-Allergens/Tree-Pollens/Allergens/Linden-/

The German Romantics loved their linden trees.  Heinrich Heine’s poem, translated into English: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-old-dream-comes-again-to-me/. The bite on the wrist might already indicate a linden pollen allergy that has made one of the lovers into a rabid attacker. Even the Romantics had their little Draculinas or Draculas.

Wear your dust mask, wash your hands, have a shower when at home and close the windows during the night. Rabid linden pollen make their entrance during night time, just like little vampire bats with their tiny white teeth and the bite of love as in Heine’s poem. In ‘Lyrisches Intermezzo’ http://gutenberg.spiegel.de/buch/371/6 a nightingale sings and the linden tree is blossoming. The poisonous pollen have done their deed; and both lovers say farewell with frosty hearts and deadly intentions.

Under the linden tree

You and the bee

Have given each other a break

No pollen today

No heart and lungs will make

This into a less grey

Day of loveless thought

Hey you lets call it a day

We both have been caught

In the illusion of

Commodity fetishism

Of something called love

We know our Marx quite well

Video: Mitchel & Webb. Linden Trees Smell of Cum. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4p0uw42cdo

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A feeling of mortality – Allergies 2

Mould spore

Mould in the bathroom

Every day I am watching the mould grow. This house loves to be moulded over. Having a shower means getting water on the body and mould spores into my lungs. I watch these black streets of mould on the walls full of disgust. They have told me in my dreams that they love me. Looking at the microscope image of a mould spore I understand that this one is in love with me as it is blue; and my favourite colour is a blue that I cannot describe. Mould spore has been colourised. Mould spore looks a bit like a virus; and it has the habit of a parasite or a virus. It wants to invade everything organic, anorganic and natural – and as we know that nature is an illusion – all the artificial stuff as well. It is in love with plastic and silicone, especially with mould resistant versions. My friend, the doctor in a private hospital who hates working there, has told me that I might have problems in future. I have been told the story of a woman who had died because of mould in her lungs.  Having read the following webpage http://www.biosignlabs.com/Symptoms_Mold_Sickness.html I assume that she has died of emphysema. My mother had emphyseme and she was scared of suffocating. At the end she died of a stroke.

How to die of emphysema

If you read this webpage http://www.emphysema-copd.co.uk/12.html you might want to remove mould from your house. Mould in the air increases during autumn; and you have got a good chance to inhale lovely bouncy mould spores that will attach themselves to your lungs. Live and let live.

How to make love in a mould infested household

Make sure that you do not touch any mouldy surfaces. Wear a gas mask or at least one of the dust masks you can buy in any DIY store. Try not to breathe. Do not touch anything, not even the body of the loved one. Stay still. Leave the house. Remove any infested items from the area. Stay cool. Do not give in to the climate of fear that currently rules this country.

Music: Steelheart. We all die young. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7F6FMQLke0Q

Photo source: turbosquid.com

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Part 1: Fetish-fetish and (fe)male masochism – Polarities – This contains explicit language

So la la. Installation. Video still. Vienna – Graz. 1985. Copy-right Gudrun Bielz

Films

‘Repulsion’. A film by Roman Polanski. 1965. <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iO0niGPR5S4>.

‘Hiroshima mon amour’. A film by Alain Resnais. 1959. Trailer.  <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zjGdLZNAdRc&feature=related>.

Text

‘The specific satisfaction sought and found in female sex life and motherhood are of masochistic nature. The content of the early sexual wishes and fantasies concerning the father is the desire to be mutilated, that is, castrated by him. … What the woman secretly desires in intercourse is rape and violence, or in the mental sphere, humiliation.’ (Horney).

The desire for humiliation cannot be a desire for the above. This must be a mistake. This narrative rings false. Horney must be wrong. Everything is allowed and permitted during sex when all parties agree to it, even if this would include the death of one party?  This has happened and I am going to talk about this later in this text. Why humiliation? Sexuality can be so much more than the idea of sexuality; and making love to somebody and feeling the animal human being held down and oscillating between tenderness and animal lust with some force is not humiliation. Is it seen as humiliating because the official narrative is to f*ck the middle class way just like we make conversation with some niceties, and nice little penis saying: Hello, may I enter you lovely pussy and pussycat is happily meowing away? I can extend this to ‘Hello nice little penis please visit my nice bottom hole or nice little penis please rub your nice friend or nice pussy I would love to rub your pussy at mine’. Sometimes they make an excursion into other classes and talk about their Elisabeth Regina (Cockney slang) rubbing somebody’s Mars and Venus. These niceties do not happen when we have sex, do they? The darkness of sexuality that is not darkness other than if there is sadism or whatever can be called perversion involved is more about passion and boundless pleasure. This can change into pain and back to pleasure and getting stuck in between becoming something like ‘plainure’ or ‘please’.  Perversion is a model with different and new flavours that have changed in societies with their oscillating moral constructions. Wasn’t there a time in Victorian England when it was perverted to have sex other than for reproduction and naked bodies were not permitted?  I envisage two people in nightdresses, carefully avoiding the gaze and targeting each other’s primary sexual organs, cautiously staying away from any lust, joy and fun, and anxiously evading any nakedness and passion. Behind closed doors, away from the official version, there was the adoration of the bust, the foot, the nightdress, the strand of hair, the eye, the body part, the long slender fingers, and the genitals. All of this nicely compartmentalised and put into boxes. It finds it perhaps absolute and really disturbing narrative in the killing of objects that are not allowed to be objects with their own want and identity. See http://www.mayhem.net/Crime/cannibals1.html.

So, thinking about the mechanics of sex, women on women, men on men and men on women as well as the other way around are masturbating each other with new technical toys as well as ancient rubber toys and ducks and leather fetishes, glass, diamonds, fluff, jam and chocolate, ropes and robes, purple hand-cuffs and silver plated candle holders. As a habit it is about desperation and boredom, about obsession and compulsive actions, one cannot live without any more. It is about adding tools like hammers and screwdrivers, rubber stuff and feather fluff to the business of pleasure without contributing to intimacy. It is about introducing interfaces between bodies that separate them. If you feed an object by stuffing it with pâté using a fork or by stuffing it with sexual goo by using a yellow rubber duck, does not make that great a difference anymore. Too much food and too much sex make you tired and throw up.  Though even vomit can become part of the sexual narrative. Objects want always more and are never satisfied; they have not enough money and pleasure, not enough sex and control.  They have to carry the Gucci handbags of sexual desire, pleasure or perversion and they like to think about an ultimate status symbol, the Lamborghini of sex with an object of desire, be it male or female, draped around its bonnet, always available but only on the terms of the buyer. There is always a better car, a better bag, a better object of desire looming in the darkness, waiting to be woken up by your money or your touch, by your staging of sexual rituals and by your wish to control the momentary loss of control by all parties involved. This is a devious narrative as it is about control all along. Even loss of control is carefully orchestrated and implies that control is a primary narrative.

Being on your own, but not being alone as networked into this virtual set-up of computing power with real voices and images that promise the authentic event, you are sitting here, on your own, in front of your computer immersed in the virtual illusion of nirvana.  You let either your hands or machines and toys do the business while pretending that there is intimacy while you are listening to the voices of seduction or commands, of dirty language or sweet promises and watching the seductive gestures of bodies offering themselves to your exploitation. They are set up in generic ways, compartmentalised and put into the drawers of sexual flavours, seducing you with cold precision into a scenario that you have selected as your favourite dish. They give you what you want; if not so, you will switch the channel, going more hard-core if it is pornography or more hard language if it is a chat room or any other virtual environment with the illusion of real time interaction. You don’t even know if you are having sex with a guy, a woman or a dog as avatars are representations of an imagined self, an other persona, the persona you want to be or never wanted to be, a non persona perhaps. So you can do what you do best, close your eyes, let the machines touch your crotch and pretend that you are having sex with the star of your dreams while talking dirty to an avatar who could be any object, even a shoe or a handbag if you want so. What do you do after you have had your ejaculation or your orgasm? Use your Kleenex or have a shower or just continue like nothing has happened as a momentary satisfaction has made your stomach feel fuller and your dread about life less dreadful? For a moment you have fulfilled an object’s dream of avoiding intimacy by creating the illusion of closeness but actually engaging in another service that is on offer for free or against payment and part of a utilitarian scenario. This is commodity fetishism. Is this that different from what we had been told about Victorian sexuality? The toys and instruments of pleasure are displayed like in a manual by Marquis de Sade or on the trays in my dentist’s practice. I am not talking about sadism here or masochism. I am talking about toys having taken over the production of sexual pleasure and adding to the narrative of the MUST of pleasure. Second Life ‘sex clubs’ offered toys that can be attached to programmes and the computer would direct your sexual pleasure with real toys while intercourse took place between avatars.

Fetishism and rituals deflect from feeling and loving and experiencing sex in an animal way or perhaps an object way. Can I still use the term subject as it seems to be outdated terminology coming from philosophy/psychology? Perhaps, we have been made to believe that subject is not as good as object because less objective?  I would like to add that it is a term that defines what constitutes female far more than the term object with its extension objectivity, a fictitious absolute and a figment of male control over nature that is not natural or possibly does not even exist while subjectivity connected to subjects is far more about intrinsic experience. Possibly, I am creating my own mythology, but it is in my best interest as I am a woman. Unfortunately, it is also a narrative that has to be erased by objectivity. Though, I am quite in love with the term object myself as there are these gooey chewy soft and caramel pudding-like objects with particles of preservative stuck to its surface while being pleasantly soft and fudge-like inside. This is fudgable. I will remind us that subject is a female narrative, part of a female principle that has been neglected, ignored and erased in many cultures and during the last millennia.

Fetishism and rituals make the body into the object body; and if we all are objects, who will hinder us to kill any object body out of sexual pleasure that in some cases is only the pleasure of one and the pain of the other. Of course, it can be an agreement between lovers; and the game with life and death can become the ultimate sexual act by one person eating up the other in an act of lust and love. Armin Meiwes killed his lover who he had found via the Internet. Obviously, he must have eaten him with great gusto <http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/europe/3443803.stm>. Being eaten up and expecting death as the ultimate act of sexual or more ecstatic pleasure is certainly a perversion, isn’t it? What has gone through the mind of the object to be swallowed up by a lover who behaved like the praying mantis that is eating the male after copulation? Has the object of desire been sedated before he was taken apart? This would mean that he had been cheated from experiencing the ecstasy of whatever had been agreed as the commodity value of pleasure between the two parties, all set up in a contract of perhaps not so mutual agreement.

Fetishism and SM scenarios depend on contractual agreements. Otherwise the narrative is one of real oppression and exploitation, of sex-slavery and abuse. So fetishism and SM is something like a business, a utilitarian agreement between people, an advanced massage parlour, a good example for commodity fetishism. Fetishism is a narrative of religious and capitalist ritualisation of the commodity sexual object. This object can be a human object of any gender, a rubber doll, a shoe, and any item that has been put into the sexual arena. All of these objects are objects of desire and none is worth more than the other or if they are then only because of their usefulness.

‘People in a capitalist society thus begin to treat commodities as if value inhered in the objects themselves, rather than in the amount of real labor expended to produce the object’ (Felluga). This translates that people in a fetish or SM scenario thus begin to treat their objects of desire as if value inhered in the objects themselves, rather than in the amount of living their life of lust and love, gooeyness and consciousness expended to produce the object.

Here some quotes that might lead to another text and make for some interesting reading:

‘Suffering, or even self-inflicting pain, in more primitive tribes, may be an expression of magical thinking meant to ward off danger, and may have nothing to do with individual masochism.’ (Horney).

‘Furthermore, as far as men indulge in masochistic fantasies or performances, these represent an expression of their desire to play the female role.’ (Horney).

Fetishism and anxiety as well as the dread of the vagina: ‘Venus in Furs’ by Leopold Sacher Masoch, an Austro-Hungarian who gave masochism its name.

Like fetishism, exhibitionsm and others, Kaplan says that masochism is ‘one of the male perversions that deludes the male subject into falsifying his means of control’. It is a way of overcoming the trauma of childhood. (Hinton).

‘In its larger, more encompassing meaning, fetishism is about the deadening and dehumanization of otherwise alive and therefore threateningly dangerous, unpredictable desires.’ (Kaplan)

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2

Lit.:

Horney, Karen. “The problem of feminine masochism” in Feminine Psychology. Norton & Company. New York, London. 1993.

Kaplan, Louise J. Cultures of Fetishism. Palgrave Macmillan. New York. 2006.

Hinton, Laura. The perverse gaze of sympathy:Sadomasochistic sentiments from Clarissa to rescue 911. State University of New York Press. 1999.

Felluga, Dino. “Modules on Marx: On Fetishism.” Introductory Guide to Critical Theory. 25 Aug 2011. <http://www.cla.purdue.edu/english/theory/marxism/modules/marxfetishism.html>.

26 Aug 2011. <http://www.mayhem.net/Crime/cannibals1.html>.

Music

Lunatic. Booba feat. 2010. <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eb0Rh32BlhQ>.

Darth Vader Fetish Chic

(Photo source: boingboing.net)

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Online dating – Dance of the vampires

Photo: Gudrun Bielz. 2008.

MUSIC: ‘Not love perhaps’. John Surman. <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KZELsUPOgN8&feature=related>.

The mail order catalogue has arrived. What an overflow of stuff. Clothes and televisions, computers and food. Men and women in search for love or just a warm and exciting body, perhaps sex only. This catalogue comes in many languages with poor translations into the languages of male and female and perhaps omnivorous desire. Move carefully in this virtual candy-shop. Haven’t your parents told you, how sick you will get by eating too many sweets? Looking at them only makes your mouth watery and your desire for the forbidden fruit grow. What forbidden fruit? All the apples lie in the fruit basket and the oranges have rolled away into  ‘To live the Orange’ by Helen Cixous, though some of them have invaded real space outside of this illusionary sexed up place on the web, where men attack you, when you do not want to talk to them. Some of the men and women here have exact descriptions of the person they are looking for. It is like they are searching for a specific car with a certain colour, age and characteristics. I wonder how it is, if they are disappointed.  Are they sending the broken goods back to the repair shop? They definitely feel that they are entitled to an exchange. Free of charge, of course.

HAVE YOU GOT YOUR TITS AT THE RIGHT PLACE NOT IN YOUR BRAIN BUT THERE THEY SHOULD BE AND HAVE YOU GOT ENOUGH HUNGER FOR SEX WITHOUT ASKING ANY QUESTIONS YOU SHOULD KNOW BY NOW AS YOU ARE AN ADULT WOMEN THAT ALL THE SONGS WITH I AM LOOKING FOR A ROMANTIC FEMALE AND A LONG TERM RELATIONSHIP AS I AM INTERESTED IN MORE THAN JUST BODILY EXERCISE ARE ONLY FOR THE GULLIBLE ONES YOU KNOW THAT IT IS ALL ABOUT MANY BODIES IN AS SHORT A TIME AS POSSIBLE BECAUSE TIME RUNS OUT FOR MOST OF US AND IN THIS SUPERMARKET OF DESIRE ILLUSION MUST WORK.

THIS IS THE CLOSEST SEARCH FOR FEMALE ANDROIDS WHO DO NOT TALK BACK BUT WILL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT THEM TO DO AND HERE ON THESE VIRTUAL DATING SITES YOU ARE TOLD THAT THERE ARE SO MANY OF US HUNGRY FOR LOVE OR BODY OR JUST SCARED OF BEING ALONE SO IF YOU DO NOT FULFILL AND DO NOT BEHAVE THERE IS A LONG WAITING LIST AND EVERY DAY A NEW CANDY AND EVERY OTHER DAY A NEW SEXUAL EXPERIENCE WITHOUT GETTING YOUR BRAIN OR CROTCH DISTURBED OR EVEN MISTAKEN FOR EACH OTHER AS THIS IS ABOUT CARNAL (DIS)PLEASURE SOLD AS THE SEARCH FOR YOUR SOULMATE.

IF BODIES BECOME REAL AND SWEATY WITH A HISTORY AS OBJECTS WITH DESIRE AND PAST AND GOOEY STUFF INSIDE CALLED FEELINGS THIS IS TOO MUCH FOR MOST OF US AS PLASTIC BODIES ARE DEMANDED THE ONES WHO SHOULD COME OVER WITH THEIR SENSUAL MOUTHS KISSING YOU GUYS WHO WANT TO BE ABSOLVED FROM ALL YOUR SINS OR ALL YOUR DESIRES BY WOMEN WHO HAVE TURNED INTO FACELESS MACHINES JUST FOR YOU OUR SEXUAL ORGANS RUBBING EACH OTHER NO SKIN TOUCHED ANYMORE OR IF TOUCHED IT IS THE GENERIC SKIN OF ALL WOMEN AND MEN.

THIS WOMAN MOVES IN THIS CANDY SHOP WITH GREAT CARE AND DOES NOT BELIEVE A WORD WHILE  SHE ENCOUNTERS SOME OF THE DELICIOUS CANDIES ON OFFER WHO SELL THEMSELVES WITH SO MUCH SEDUCTION SOMETIMES OR AT OTHER TIMES WITH CRUDE AND RUDE BLUNTNESS NOT LISTENING TO THE SONGS OF THE SIRENS THAT THEY HAVE APPROACHED WITH THEIR QUEST FOR WARMTH AND PLEASURE AND SOMETHING MORE EVEN THEY ARE SCARED ABOUT THINKING THE UNTHINKABLE INTIMACY PERHAPS.

SO THEY DON’T LISTEN  AND IT IS AS IF THEY DON’T WANT TO KNOW THE PERSON WOMAN THAT WILL PEEL OUT OF ALL THIS MISINFORMATION AND GLITZ AND GLAMOUR PROMISED THEY ONLY WANT THEIR DREAMS FULFILLED THIS TELLS US  WHY THEY CAN MAKE LOVE TO YOU ALL THE TIME WITH THEIR EYES CLOSED AS THEY NEVER SEE YOU OR TOUCH YOU OR EVEN PENETRATE YOU OTHER THAN SOME MYSTICAL CREATURE WOMAN THEY WOULD LIKE TO LOVE SO MUCH BUT PERHAPS FEAR OR HATE MORE THAN THEY WANT TO ADMIT.

WARMTH IS SOMETHING THAT OFTEN IS REQUIRED EVEN WARMTH AFTER THEY HAVE HIT YOU OVER THE HEAD WITH THEIR CRUEL WORDS AND GESTURES EVEN THEN THEY WANT FORGIVENESS AS IF YOU WERE THEIR MOTHER AND UNCONDITIONAL LOVE IS WHAT MAKES THEM HAVE SEX WITH YOU WITH THEIR EYES CLOSED SO THEY CAN GO BACK INTO THEIR LIVES BEFORE BIRTH BEFORE A UTERUS HAS SPIT THEM OUT INTO THIS WORLD THEY HAVE TO RULE AND CONQUER AND RULE AGAIN AND IS IT DEATH THEY ARE LOOKING FOR OR JUST RELEASE FROM AN ETERNAL TENSION THAT CAN’T BE RELIEVED IN ONE OR TWO OR EVEN MANY GOES.

SO FORNICATION IT BE AT ANY PRICE AND IF THEY ARE LUCKY AND WE TOO SOME BETTER STUFF WILL COME OUT OF THIS A JOURNEY TOGETHER FOR A CERTAIN TIME AND SOME WARMTH AND HOLDING AND SOME MISUNDERSTANDINGS WILL CEASE TO EXIST AND MAKE SPACE FOR THE ROUGHER PARTS OF LIFE AND THE GAME BETWEEN MAN AND WOMEN  MEN AND MEN  WOMEN AND WOMEN AND OTHERGENDER OR MULTIGENDER AND SPACE IS OPENING UP AND ALLOWING ALL OF THIS  THE SOFT AND THE ROUGH THE GOOD AND THE BAD THE NICE AND THE NAUGHTY  AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN BE RESOLVED OR JUST LIVED IN A PLAYFUL WAY AS LIFE CAN BE SOMETIMES A PLAY WITHOUT HURTING THE OTHER A PLAY THAT IS NOT PLAYING AGAINST THE OTHER JUST PLAYING TOGETHER.

Grohol, John M. Who uses internet dating. 02 Aug 2011. <http://psychcntral.com/blog/archives/2009/07/23/who-uses-internet-dating/>.

Chowning, Karolyn. Internet Dating Lies. 02 Au. 2011. <http://www.suite101.com/content/internet-dating-lies-a67732>.

Study: A third of us have used dating websites. 02 Aug 2011. <http://www.ox.ac.uk/media/news_stories/2011/111402_1.html>.

Tobin, Lucy. Research into online dating. 02 Aug 2011. <http://www.guardian.co.uk/education/2010/apr/26/online-dating-research>.

‘Dance of the vampires/The fearless vampire killers’. Film by Roman Polanski. 1967. <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SidDWfESBPQ&feature=related>.

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Hands like ants – Ants like hands

Gudrun Bielz. 2010

Steady motion – Accelerated motion – Discontinuous motion

Dreaming about hands exploring the object body and wandering along sensual pathways on skin, skin being sense number one. If there would be a competition for senses I would give SKIN the prize. These hands are like little animals, like diggers, like robots with a mission that seems so aimless. Nevertheless their aim is expedition; and walking along this big organ, the skin, they leave lovely streets of pearls of sweat. Pores are opening up and breathing again. They are like ants following their destiny, feeding the queen and fighting off the enemies. These hands are ants, and ants are the arctificial species per se. All of this appears to happen in steady motion that is not an oxymoron, but ‘constant speed in a straight line’. (Fowler). If it is accelerated motion ‘that is uniform acceleration of falling bodies’ (Fowler),  then it is something that seems so unbearable on skin, as if millions of ants had invaded it and run over it, run it over. In German you have got these lovely words: Ameisenlaufen and Ameisenkribbeln, when you feel these tingly feelings in your legs or on your skin. Ameise is the German word for ant.  Ameisenlaufen and –kribbeln is formication. Literally it means ants running, ants tingling.

Falling bodies ANTS on my skin are moving in patterns over this landscape with dedication and social cohesion.  Somehow, they are one brain and one motion with soldiers, who fight for the survival of the colony, with smaller workers who are the feeders, with one or several huge queens, who are reproduction machines and are fed more and more so to give birth to more and more. In this territory you will also find males who make love to the birth machine QUEEN. Somehow, they are many different small ants with their own tasks and roles and eyes to see and sensors to sense. Unity and plurality, all in one colony, all in one system.

FALLING OUT OF THE TREES LIKE SPIDERS SWINGING THEIR NETS IN DESPERATION WE ARE MARCHING TOWARDS THIS NEW TERRITORY THAT I AM CALLING ARCTIFICIAL.

NO ANTS ARE THERE BUT CREATURES WHO ARE LIKE YOU AND ME AGEING WITHOUT DIGNITY FALLING OUT OF SKIES IN ACCELERATED MOTION UNIFORM AND EMBRACING REPETITION.

OBSESSIONAL IS THEIR MOVEMENT IN ONE DIRECTION ONLY NOT EVEN A CURVE WITH A RADIUS INTO INFINITY HAS SEDUCED THEM TO CHANGE THEIR PATHWAYS.

NO HANDS ARE WAITING HERE NOBODY TO TOUCH AND NOBODY WANTING TO BE TOUCHED BY HANDS LIKE ANTS AND ANTS LIKE HANDS WHO WILL GIVE YOU THIS TINGLING SENSATION OF FEELING ALIVE.

BETWEEN REPETITION AND REPETITION THERE IS ANOTHER MOVEMENT A DISCONTINUOUS MOTION THAT IS AT HOME IN THE QUANTUM WORLD.

NO HANDS NO ANTS NO LIFE SOME LIFE SOME HANDS SOME ANTS ANTSHANDSLIFE IN ARCTIFICIAL TERRITORY A PLACE NOT KNOWN YET BUT KNOWN TOO WELL TO ALL OF US NOT PARADOX NOR DISCONTINUUM ONLY A CONTINUOUS LINE OF MOVEMENT TOWARDS IMMORTALITY THAT IS NOT AFTERLIFE BUT ALSO NOT LIFE IN THE HERE AND NOW.

Lit.:

Fowler, Michael. “Lecture on Naturally Accelerated Motion.” 10 Aug 2011. <http://galileoandeinstein.physics.virginia.edu/tns153.htm>.

Ryan, Cassie. “Ants Give Insights into Social Networks.”. 10 Aug 2011. <http://www.theepochtimes.com/n2/science/ants-give-insights-into-social-networks-56710.html>.

Gao, Shan. “What quantum mechanics describes is discontinuous motion of particles.” Abstract only.  10 Aug 2011. <http://philsci-archive.pitt.edu/447/>.

Exhibition:

‘Skin’. Wellcome Trust. London. 10 June – 26 September 2010. 10 Aug 2011. <http://www.wellcomecollection.org/whats-on/exhibitions/skin.aspx>.

Music link:

Skin, “Nothing to lose”. <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wF9j3GRBihQ&feature=related>.

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There is no precision – There is approximation

human reproduction female

Introducing new algorithms into computer and network communication models deals with the motion of approximation towards precision, though there is no escape from approximation. Perhaps the introduction of variable precision opens a window into another narrative? Which algorithms can I introduce into human communication? We always misunderstand each other, sometimes in a productive way that can lead to new adventures in everything, sometimes in a destructive way that not only causes wars on a greater scale, but forms part of the erosive elements in close relationships.

Perhaps, we want the approximation, so to leave us space for dreams and illusions, adapting the objects of desire to our inner landscape of what an object of desire constitutes of; and we don’t want to see the more real other that never will be real enough and tangible, anyway. Precision is an illusion, and approximation is something real, though it is never experienced as real.

I wonder, if even on a sub-atomic level, there is this approximation that is been mistaken for precision sometimes,  though, perhaps some of us know that there are things that escape our harsh measurement systems, nevertheless they do exist. There is a wish in us for precision or accuracy as a hard fact, forgetting that even this hard fact is a temporary illusion, as already moving on to a new set of so-called hard facts, perhaps a building block for a new theory or new applications that will want us to ask for more. We are very hungry animals and never satisfied, except when we lull our minds in front of television screens that dumb us down and put us into a Zombie like state for as long as we want to be bombarded by the experience or the propaganda of others, allowing us to become lazy and dissatisfied without actually knowing, WHY we are so unhappy and want to live the life of these others, who are perhaps a bunch of deluded objects, drunk or on drugs most of the time and having their sparkling moments not when caught on camera; and others are fabrications of a cynical industry (and most industries are cynical or have become so over time), plastic people in plastic worlds that we want to copy, as we are animals, who learn by mimicking others.

When immersed in computer game worlds, we become an even more different animal object that tries so hard to win over the love of an avatar or a whole set of them. It wants so much to communicate with either another subject that is an object, but has put something like the idea of ‘I feel and I sense and I have some form of freedom’ into their narrative or another object perceived as subject which is an object anyway. Does it matter if we communicate with ourselves using a real person or an imagined one or an avatar or an android, as most of us look not for the other but for their own narratives mirrored in the other? I would like to state that this is a form of abuse, but one that has become normal. Of course, we look at each other and want to be like each other, when in love or in communication; or we explore difference to find similarity or search for similarity to dive into the wonderland of difference. If we are an unhealthier animal that might be perceived as perfectly healthy in a new order of things, perhaps we want to erase this difference and transform the other into ourselves, as this seems a safer option for dealing with difference, the unknown and dangerous other objects. We need the whole world to be like us, even if we pretend that we like difference; and this is a curse. Unified theories and singularities might have developed a narrative like this.

The object body, as the object of desire and fulfillment of somebody’s lust, has more become an object – and here I am talking about the male gaze – defined by pornography, and the Internet has spread the message, multiplied it and added to more information garbage for obsessional-compulsive collectors.  I have been watching hours of soft and hard core porn to get a feel for what it is to be this object of lust; and I do understand that we have become consumers so bored with what is available or here to explore that some of us need more hard core, more flesh, more objects, more humiliation for whatever reason, and still we are not satisfied and looking for more objects to unload our sorrow, our sperm, our fluids into a container or the representation of it. Snuff videos have been introduced; and even they are not enough for some of us. Cannibals of lust and sex want to eat you up, with all their desires never been satisfied and they, eternally hungry, live in this abyss of constant dissatisfaction; and more and more flesh goes through their machines body aching for even more flesh that has to serve their needs.

So, if they want to load their ejaculations precisely into a container that can be anything, to be precise, even if this is an approximation only,  why do we not sense that even this is approximation and the algorithms are not good enough yet, and never will be, as in the search for fulfillment, love, adventure and excitement, eternity and perhaps immortality we will have to fail, as long as we see the objects of our desire as consumable goods, something we have learned to eat like we eat our Burgers, the frog legs, snails and shrimps, whole chunks of beef and pork and other meats, preferably raw, as this makes us more animal like, though now we cook them and prepare, we shave our private parts and some of us are not even honest enough to admit that we love sex with not adult people, hence this nakedness around the pubic space, but we pretend that this is in the name of hygiene, bringing in sexual diseases as excuse and thinking that some magic Voodoo naked pubic area will save us from STDs, not wanting to see that we have become so omnivorous, so unable to chose, as we have been told that we have to buy everything around, in case there is a great famine perhaps – oh, no this is the wrong narrative for now, though the right one for another time – in case there is something better and newer around the corner, a man with greener eyes and a bigger sex and a woman with such horny movements that she  might hopefully (and there is always hope involved) satisfy your eternally hungry object lust.

Object or subject body with all its desires has turned to commodity. Commodity has got a price, sometimes this is artificially defined by virtual markets; and the higher the price the more thrilling the gain, be it buying into high maintenance or high risk sex or something that puts your adrenaline up and throws you into prolonged ecstasy that actually lasts shorter and shorter, because we get used to our drugs and we will need more and more and never will we be gratified. The rule of demand and supply is a perverted one. Once desire and lust are awake in animals, they will be ever so hungry; and perhaps they have forgotten that overeating has its price: I feel so sick, because I had too much of all, too much food and sex and I am aching not for more in numbers, but probably for more in deep feeling or lust at the moment with a non exchangeable object or objects that one does not have to discard of like the iPhone, as there is already a newer model on the market with more applets, more functions and a sexier design, waiting to be swallowed up, consumed by YOU.

These commodities, called bodies, become our addictions; and our addictions make us not only more ravenous but never content, always hungry for more and more exciting and more dangerous explorations, while some of us turn their bodies into machine like structures adding new augmentations, enhancing their physiques, plastifying their (out)look, not being able to age, as this indicates death and in an age of new immortality that bows to youth, but only superficially, as it is all about elastic skin and tight areas for delectation, as it is all about youthful movement and the promise of more to come, as it is all about this great fear of letting yourself down into the depths of what is now called the object’s inner goo and primordial soup. There is confusion that sometimes gets easy on you and leaves you in a state of equilibrium; and at other times lets you sleep in the arms of the object of desire, not hungry anymore, but reassured for the moment with the approximation of something that you could call precision. We are generous people, sometimes.

Literature:

Felluga, Dino. “Modules on Marx: On Fetishism”. Introductory Guide to Critical Theory. 08 Aug 2011. <http://www.purdue.edu/guidetotheory/marxism/modules/marxfetishism.html>.

Ropelato, Jerry. Internet Pornography Statistics. 08 Aug 2011. <http://internet-filter-review.toptenreviews.com/internet-pornography-statistics.html>.

Shrage, Laurie, “Feminist Perspectives on Sex Markets”, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Fall 2008 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.). 08 Aug 2011. <http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/fall2008/entries/feminist-sex-markets/>.

Michalski and Winston. “Variable Precision Logic”. Artificial Intelligence. Vol. 29/2. Aug 1986. Abstract only. 08 Aug 2011. <http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/0004370286900160 >.

Music:

“Feed me”. The Spell. 2008. <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fyh5k605m3E>.

Film link:

“Countess Dracula”. Peter Sasdy. 1971.<http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f9UBmSjsX5Q>.

(Photo source: science.howstuffworks.com)

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Filed under life by numbers