Psycho-socializing the Cinemalgorithmic Unconscious on the eve of 12th Thursday, January in common parlance
Imaginary Solution
Heavy Fragments
“German satellite crash lands on earth after returning at 280mph… but WHERE is it?”
Inquiring humanoids hope to ascertain a fugitive. They are offended by the seeming absence of sound science in a recent ‘fall from grace’ of certain space dwelling craft. Amongst avians of my ilk, we describe these dead drops in terms of extinction, a “mis-communique,” or utopic malfunction. Another artificial moon seemingly goes the way of the dodo, disappearing at impossible speeds, dodging humanoids under the aegis of optimistic odds. Visions of beige mini-vans, the favored referential objects, seen careening out of control, captained by end stage obliterati then –poof— disappearing. (Presti)digital denizens are combing the ether, patrolling the Hertzian depths , clamoring for a vanishing act that every vanguard mage aspires towards. Floating worlds, dimensional hideouts, this could well be a sort of anemic atemporality, nay, an atemporealty, a beach front at 700 Mhz, a symbolic instantiation of a material form.
More so than just a cheap trick of astronomical and sorcerous bodies, these heavy fragments actuate an inverse shock collar, backwards vapor cone or anti-shock egg. Becoming invisible, an imperceivable obsolescence, hidden in plain sight to the natives unaccustomed to the protocol for perceiving artifacts of invisible wars
Lord Quag: Cognitive Justice
Lord Quag and Weird-Fiction, Fresh for 2011! You Suckers!
Retrograde Prophecy: Vamplers Afoot!
As to the vampling that was afoot in the eve of nighttime last, forecasts were few and far between as to the arrival of this event-scene. In review: Vamplers themselves assumed the heterotopian familiar of the reflection—a site of resistance or contestational camoflage that boggles the brain of old-school vampires and their ilk as much as it contends with would be captors!
It is a sad state of affairs, a “sign of the times,” that even our most intrepid augurs, divination rods, omens, oracles and forecasts were hushed. And so we offer, albeit with much reddening of our facial regions, a retrograde prophecy: Amidst a dionysian videodrome populated by those attuned and within the Portland Metro Area of the local group, an unfettered unfurling of free-floating pixels. Of beams brought on one’s own to inhabit in spectral pallor the parlor known as New American Art Union.
To humanoids fumbling for a suitable reference, the event-scene was whispered as something of a “photo booth.” Emphasis, mine, then, on “john wilkes,” and the assassinations of character inflicted in textbook vampler tradition—-sweet talking the vampling in waiting, then subjecting said vampling to the process of any old vampire’s scheme: vidsonic nutrients ripped out of context and left adrift—like derelict data bodies who then wander the walls of this and that establishment.
In ficto-quizzical quarters, vampladelia, or, vampling used to engender a psychedelic affect, is metaphorically speaking, a black box device, system or object which can be viewed solely in terms of its input, output and transfer characteristics without any knowledge of its internal workings. Being liminal has also been– of late– the favored geo-political posture of interactors found lurking in the outer regions of mankind’s information ecosystems.
Call it interactive decay —-a process by which an unstable liminoid loses energy by emitting compromising articles. The emission is spontaneous, in that the decay is emergent even without collision with another article. Post collision and collusion: The mental maw of many netizens is lockjawed: nibbling news where once there was gluttony, haphazardly patching up leaks with Pentagon Papers. Factoids protruding from these neutered networks much like parts of a corpse will protrude from an ill-made grave.
In A Diagonal Way
Outlooks such as: “if it ain’t Baroque, don’t fix it,” will be backwards compatible only for so long, before shifting into the domain of a ‘patanamorphosis. This nascent neologism is, of course, simultaneously a grotesque ‘pataphysique and a wildstyle perspective awry.
“the eyesight is wrong, I guess if you were a vapor you could see it that way” to paraphrase N.Klein’s review of dirigibles over Paris and their curious representation in an outmoded parchment.
Simultaneously, a space-time transient danced delicately around the edges of this forgotten futurity, observing rightly that the dirigible is full of hot air. Pressing each node separately he was swallowed up by an angle of history which shouldn’t have been there; an angle which was acute, but behaved as if it were obtuse. He climbed interminably along the grotesque memetic moulding – that is, one would call it climbing if the thing was not after all metaphorical.
The ficto-quizzical move anomalously, in a diagonal way- that is, one would call it diagonal if atemporality hadn’t anachronized such delineations. Panopticondemned, such line segmentation can be salvaged amidst the info-mesh, or else what is a node without its link?
Twilight sleep leaves its victims without memories of conscious experiences, diminished reality is a somnambulistic AR code. For those marooned amidst liquid gulfs of modernity, clamoring for mirages of available isms, institutions or, in other words, internments, or better yet (intern)ships— consider Thaddeus S.C. Lowe’s noisome node, “City of New York” launched into the skies, activating leaps and bounds mentally, a teleprescient mode of data-visceralization, a wandering city. 
The vapor rising from the newly opened depths was intolerable, and at length the quick-eared will hear an echo of this network culturation that is, for lack of a better description, akin to a shadow economy’s share of derelict playback devices, aligned at the precipice of a search engineered port of entry to the abyss. From here a Reichian regime of phasing–out of time, space, scale–an emergent aura(l) complexity of rhythms as of yet unwanted or unknown.