Saturday, March 14, 2015

Extraordinary Discourse 216


Many fecund ecosystems are strung along edges like coastlines and forest margins. I fished for these varietous utterances along spoken ecosystems (audio, radio [appealing to the inner rather than the outer eyes] is already "marginal"), but I didn't run a steel hook through the walls of their mouths and out their gills while they goggled in horror, and I didn't club them writhing to stillness.  I re-schooled them, that's all, and it turns out they love to meet and mix with other fish, different fish, and your mind is the speilraum (playroom) play-lake of their mating while they appear to lie discrete, neither touching each other across the purity of the gaps, nor smeared over with any marmalade of music to suggest continuity or coolness. Once they parade past you, this school! Of thoughtfish, they are returned to the grand aquarium excited about other remixes, other relationships, other orgies, other play in the playroom of their sea, other channels, other canals. Your takeaway is both the spirits and souls of the thoughtfish themselves, and whatever offspring is born from their mating, or to use a fancier term, juxtapositions, or, to branch a neologism, juxtaprocesses, in your personal playroom (imagination).
Jack Saturday

…it's a need for less abrasive encounters, a little more space between the wheel and the axle. When the wheel and the axle get too close together, they lose THAT playfulness.  There’s no play left. So they have to have a bit of distancing from each other.
Marshall McLuhan,
Contemplating Me