The traditionalist enters the machine space room place time illusion Dream, and presses submit, hoping for the best, expecting the worst. Maybe one day he will return. Return to make some kind of sense of that which possibly has no sense. It's his job. Dirty. Some mother has to do it. They tell him.

In departing, he leaves a symbol -- he detaches his arm (Y2K compliant) and casually tosses it over his shoulder (with his other arm, naturally).

Exit. Or should that be end? No.

I too entered the machinespace and looked around - yes a gender to boot. s/he rebooted teh gender but it kept coming up halfway and giving an alert:
There is an error =type 404 file not found... insufficient cultural data. I pressed submit. But it didn't.
They never do, the machines and I should know - been cyborged since before y2k... even kept up with teh upgrades for a while.

I went to the wardrobe and pulled out a body bgcolor="skin" and thought 'hmmm not bad, but a bit chilly on these wintersun nights.'
I turned up teh brightness, contrast and temperature settings - the latter only works with java enabled.
the code looked good - body bgtemp="warm" ahh! feeling better already :-)

"I find this difficult to grasp," the Traditionalist says. Giving his arm, artificial or otherwise, to the system apparently has that kind of effect. Previously, he had two grasping-things, now he only has one. Now, he supposes, she has the other one -- if we must abide by that gender thing, even here. What other things does she have, he asks himself. And since she is me and I am she and oh how happy we three can be making love under the prosthesis tree, can I have what she has got? I've given, I've given, I've given.

Can I take? What's in this for me? Look, I ripped off my arm -- yes, I know it was pretty painless -- doesn't it count for anything?

I'd give my right arm to understand more fully...except I've got nothing left to Rip It Off(TM) with.

Oh Oh Os-Iris Jen-Nifer, seven-headed, sevenfold, with seven souls, bird-like, seven-headed, seven-shadowed, or nine-fold, nine-shadowed, seven by nine, manifold.

Multipled, Jennifer-Julu meme. It propagates. It propagates itself, in our speech, via our vision. Jennifer-Julu omnipotent. Omnipresent, on all frequencies and embracing all of our bandwidth.

Oh Jennifer with many souls.

I LOVE YOU

But maybe it doesn't stay there; the cyborg moves, vectors across
like light years, wars and battlefields. The bones of the texts cry
for bridging; one might go for example to
http://trace.ntu.ac.uk/writers/sondheim/dout.cfm in a long jump
across the century - as I've said repeatedly, links are substitutions
that appear as depth; one's not going _in_ but involved in an economy
of exchange, just like capital itself. What engines drive these? Stay
tuned ...

jump

arh

julu and jenniphurr dance-ing, across a fleshdrenched field of bg colowhorez and limb[ic] systemics sisterstems siphonz....

we table and pivoTT 2wardz n-counturrs & storyboards, not quite sure, not hole-EE unshore [ ific? beatifiction?

eye M urged 2 re:turn, re:create and link, s-tablsih N mezmorph t/she sp[l]acez, buTT wiLL re:sist [refist will B born 2day:http://www.anat.org.au/re*fist*anat-media/refistant-media.html] N avatargh site, a hack.herz dream, a site for soar eyes and I's N iEEEEEEEz

will u cum N retch me awai?

arh




& storyboards, not quite sure,
[refist will B born 2day:
2wardz n-counturrs
a hack.herz dream,
a site for soar eyes and I's N iEEEEEEEz
across a fleshdrenched field of
bg colowhorez and limb[ic]
buTT wiLL re:sist
eye M urged 2 re:turn,
http://www.anat.org.au/re*fist*anat-media/refistant-media.html]
julu and jenniphurr dance-ing,
N avatargh site,
not hole-EE unshore [ ific? beatifiction?
re:create and link,
s-tablish N mezmorph t/she sp[l]acez,
systemics sisterstems siphonz....
we table and pivoTT
will u cum N retch me awai?

Where to go but to huddle in a book, split pages for animate graphics,
electric motors to whirl texts around / across, a project for a century,
text to burrow into like Jennifer's bed, pillow-covered, huddled deep
inside of it there is a Jennifer, running better with all the comfort-
heat

Me hoping :-) have . Meat . Texts Julu@redhouse.gov "I WOULD LOVE YOU CYBELE" already beatifiction? management!!!) . To . The . Kept enters. wardz . Not since . Hoping transforming and has. Omnipotent. it . Arts.music@src.uow.edu.au electriXX is do, .  jump . Bones . From . 4hat . Exchange, . Vision. . A Return. Signed . In hoping some. Enters be . Just . Across to They do. Was . Sense . Machines "when the banks are . Embracing has may. One's N . ) she . 7e, cry and arm Nikuko, . "ECAUSE his do, do . BuTT found... these the -. Prosthesis . All . Gender . .o. n-ternalli is . Not a . - for . Ific? in . "ut a . - Or . Space not. Si[bell]lent these . Repeatedly, They. Are I's . 4he make for. Across . Of . Me . Upgrades . For -- re:sist there;. Eyes halfway . Count food. 3hould a propagates.. Space . Count is . Lock]ulah . Management!!!) . Space . Or . One . *. be anxious . #ontributeTHAT of . Bg maryanne.breeze@cybersociology.com kind . Julu (it's . ) s/he - . - Oh NOT Jennifer sense. everywhere . -ILLENNIUM . The of oh Oh . 4hey . Me he on . 7ould repeatedly,. Hack.herz . Under hoping Jennifer's asks. Signed sense. [click] cyborg wardrobe wardrobe. Enabled. example . Expecting a . )'s link, y2k... .

- it carries a charge, it splinters; the bone is mechanics - it divides, abacus - the marrow fills the spaces, works on affiliation - affliction - to understand the marrow of the problematic, taste it - what turns against the entity you've got to follow me here because in the Parmenides, there's that haunting passage about muck and mud, that it's not one of the ideal forms - Parmenides and Socrates turn away from that discussion for more than obvious reasons - there's no answer - you can't have much around the women, the muck they make - you can't have that at all - learn from it - Jennifer's inversion is Nikuko, they swallow each other and

So many generations and yet the time is so short 900 years and less, in the scale of geological time nothing at all, but the passing of time for geological
matter is nothing in this human order - a million times slower. And clouds
communicating through waves - a lizard hunting for insects on the rocks,
occupying what we in our hubris regard as a human space but which is
occupied simultaneously by other creatures, other worlds, the big other (sic). "The
curvature of intersubjective space".

We walked up hills, stairs, around alleys. I was desperate for the sound of steam, music
drifting down between crevasses, old bricks. The scent of cigarettes and the
swish of cotton and linen. In my rubber soles I drifted upstairs and around
alleys like the 'classical' ang(e)lic tourist. All I lacked was the
occasional cigarette and more cappuccino and espresso, perhaps later...

actually it occurred that this might be fun...

Chindogu is the art of useless objects. It presents what is perhaps the most perfect example of the concept of spirit from a non-obscurantist point of view, invented by the Japanese, most wonderfully of all Japanese examples. Anyway Chindogu refers to overfunctionality in objects, that is, objects-inventions which become so over functional that they become meaningless as in the marvellous binoculars that you can buy in Tokyo with built in battery windscreen wipers so that you can see perfectly when it rains, which like so many contemporary articles just produces laughter.

CONNECT 38400 Panix, ,,3609201
Hangup (1:01:13) "I've heard a lot about you."
Hangup (0:00:07) "That's not strange. I've done a lot."
CONNECT 38400 Panix, ,,3609201
Hangup (0:18:48) "Looking at people with dirty white socks!"
Hangup (0:00:03) "That's a hangup? I thought you'd say something
intelligent!"
CONNECT 38400 Panix, ,,3609201
CONNECT 38400 Panix, ,,3609201
Hangup (1:45:47) "I understand your kisses speak the language of love."
Hangup (0:00:02) "Yes."
Hangup (0:00:00) "Well, let's talk things over."
CONNECT 38400 Panix, ,,3609201
Hangup (0:33:40) "Your bamboo garden is beautiful!"
Hangup (0:00:02) "I love your weaving tiny shoots in my lovely hair."

Subject:
Unknown Secrets To Better Sex For Men -mlphwsdg
Date:
Sat, 04 Sep 1999 01:34:27 -0800
From:
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To:
duellman@mwt.net


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I woke up this morning and I thought, I wanna submit.
I wanna be an avatar. I wanna grow parts of myself into
parts of myself. Then I thought: That's wrong. I hate
myself. I wannt kill myself. I wanna be you. I can be
you if I can grow into you. Lend me your body, give me
your mind, make it mine. Mine mind, I won't have to
think any more. The thoughts grapple with my brain, you
may not know, they have colors. Every thought. How many
colors are there, I don't know. I don't have to think
like this. I wanna be an avatar then I don't have to
think like this and I can think like you and have your
name. I woke up this morning and this is what I wanted
to say.

FORGET IT, OK?

Islands
Flux-places, meandering shores, sands, stromatolites in the shallows
ASondheim (asleep) is here.
Obvious exits: [Out] to ComMOOnity, [west] to trAce
Jennifer-Julu arrives.
Julu-Jennifer arrives.
Jennifer-Julu smiles.
Jennifer-Julu says, "Here's Alan, fast asleep."
l asondheim
ASondheim (asleep)
writer, theory, video, lives in NYC
He is sleeping.
Julu-Jennifer says, "shall we wake him?"
Jennifer-Julu says, "No, let him be. "
Julu-Jennifer says, "what does he want of us, do you think?"
Jennifer-Julu says, "I think he wants us to be Alan."
Julu-Jennifer says, "But we are already Alan!"
Jennifer-Julu smiles at ASondheim.
Jennifer-Julu says, "I know"
Jennifer-Julu says, "And so does he - but he wants to SEE it, you know. He wants to SEE it happen."
Julu-Jennifer says, "It's happening now, isn't it? I can feel it. I'm sure he can too."
Jennifer-Julu says, "Oh yes. He can feel it."
Julu-Jennifer settles and enfolds Alan
Jennifer-Julu settles and enfolds all of them
Julu-Jennifer smiles and sleeps.
Jennifer-Julu closes her eyes, and the scene ends.

that they would coalesce, that they would sleep
&
to be found, turned towards the same of one another,
the soft surface between, the only surface
among us,
& to be lost, cartographies, veins and absolutions
&
we would, unsaying we

It's already cost me an arm and a leg - I didn't mention the lower limb earlier did I? So, what the hell, I'm in it now. As someone once said, maybe it was Julu, "Never feed the hand that bites."

My point is that I wouldn't be here now if it weren't for Jennifer - rabbits and all. I ran across Julu in the light show of a club one half-fried morning. I wasn't entirely sure what it was and so we had to find some common ground. That turned out to be Jennifer and some brief musings about the Crusades.

But now I've met her once or twice I'm not so sure it was such a good idea coming here in the first place - giving up my body to her/for her, whichever. But, in for a penny, in for a pound or two of cliches & humbugs in a paper bag from the corner sweet shop which got bombed out of existence over fifty years ago.

Just one small plea. Many of you know Nikulo and Jennifer. You've known them for years, decades, centuries. In some cases even more I gather. I'm not asking for a formal introduction and maybe this isn't the time or the space....

Oh, and one final question, before I go, does anyone know anything about this bloke Alan that we've heard so disturbingly little about?

Distrustfully yours, The Traditionalist

jumP
...quite a leap ...

<<<>>>>
~~~~~~~~~~~~whirrrrrrrrr~~~~~~~~~~
****EYES BLINKING -burp - pardon****
Jennifer reaches for her controls and resets herself
Sound comes from her mouth
vision returns
RESTART

above & swore, a fortune garden
beach cove & door, a tight surf
war dove & messenger pigeon
tangle conflict announcing the
perfect textonomy

Cybele I plead with you to accept Jennifer's ways

the machine grown vegetables were
very useful this year.

i bought taxomony of hate now look i cant think straight or down toward earth or out toward stars so whos to blame tired now thinking what i could be if that well needless to get into that ran me off the road bought a gun what are all my losses totalled to now whos to blame whres the open field possibility somebody has to pay

nobody pays in the criminal economy, it's all one among the fields and who is to say what management might do, the collocation of police and the rest of us, what dim forms emerge? i'd look to skies for paychecks as examples of skies; a newer, more natural wilderness, what one can do is what is to be done ...

1~Nikuko agonizes for herself to be among the cyborg-ettes:

I have lost myself within these paths of not speaking,
my pains have hidden themselves among the stalks.
I unfold with the energy packet of one forsaken.
Heartless tales likewise, are kept hush everywhere,
The brows rise ~ the hands clasp ~ lips remain unparted.
Avatar's, speak of me! For another child was left crying.

Hardly a moment goes by when process abandons the hoped for response. Tangled amid the beaurocratic wissysip the monitors of cathode productivity reduce reduce reduce. Never a matter of surplus, but a positional scarcity reaffirms proper characterizations..but in her shoe Jennifer could fit Cybele. The task then interchangeable. Cast collaborates in ways real life filters. Filler gazes between the markings in the ledger, the hastily kept script known as "the situation of all ambiguities"....one voice

1) situation romanticism
2) basket case
3) program
4) conditioned response
5) diode glamour
6) restrictive partition
7) rehash

JumP

testing

the entire field endured the new technique, closing
the facility to outers ways as, travelling
elsewise, the course contained the germ. periodic nuisance
arose, forcing a heft with every action. everything
must have weight, meaning all things
possible. the machine would be tooled
according, requiring every dreamer
to log on. in this netscape, no escape.

too much J tonight!
love, J

A,

aennifer bennifer cennifer dennifer
eennifer fennifer gennifer hennifer
iennifer XXXXX kennifer lennifer
mennifer nennifer oennifer pennifer
qennifer rennifer sennifer tennifer
uennifer vennifer wennifer xennifer
yennifer zennifer

love, A

hello--bon jour--uten tag--buon giorno--buenas dias
please--s'il vous plait--bitte--prege per favore--por favor
thank you--merci--danke schon--grazie--gracias
pardon me--pardonnez-moi--entschuldigen sie--perdonne me--perdoname
yes--oui--ja--si--si
no--non--nein--no--no
goodbye--au revoir--auf wiedersehen--arrivederci--hasta la vista

shalom oovrachah, ani midaber mazeh makom, eemahti choleh, ani lo yichol choshev, ani mitzta'er, ani lo yichol lidaber eevriet achshawv...
stuff thrumming out the sides of the mouth, widening what is (passing for) speech and speaking, language forgotten long ago, Demosthenes...

Even tho Cybele has grafted herself to the story of LOVEANDWAR she cannot add herself to the cast of characters on the contents pages. She will always be marginalized & forgotten, just as her priests in the pits, blood of centuries & fertilities raining on them, washing them away without an omen.

"in other words, we are ourselves both the instrument of discovery and the instrument of definition"

JUMP
JUMP
JUMP

Is this where the writing workshop is? I have some poems I wrote about teaching my dog to beg. Do I post them here?

Humanity has left me behind because their blood is newer & spilled with less cause. The priests of renewal are now car salesmen in Akron, OH, but they are slippery now & will not give you the deal they make you believe. Her ocean is washing over me, agitated like war or dread anxiety. There must be others in this story who we are forgetting, I have seen them pressing the submit button but they never appear on their own, only their writers take credit for their appearance when it is this noble cast that elaborates the theatre. Torment is never conditional for those who are not spared.

Cybele stalks on the parameters, she has been sleeping under a tree nearby a gorgeous master. She dreamt, and it was humanity's forsaken dream. She awoke near death, and remembered nothing. She had been wisely loved, deeply, and an full of warmth. She also was ravaged, raped, and beaten furiously. She drew the blade in revenge. She told herself not to speak of it. Her cubs have been frolicking in the landscape, learning the way of folly and frenzy. They yearn for their mother. One amongst her cubs will be the future master. sHe will not know the distinction from new blood, from old blood, or from car salesmen. sHe will move with grace, with an instinct for the kill, sHe will learn these things from hir mother. sHe will provide a lair of shelter for those who roam through the thick woods, tormented. For those who sleep alone, in fear. For those who become lost, desperate for love, desperate for touch, desperate for life. Let the blood spill. Cybele's roar will be heard as the roar of love.

Is telepresence possible directly from one's computer, with no website to interface me?

The spline stretches over into this space: prosthesis: skin stretching across the MAW, intersection, bridge; disintegrating boundaries, laying new ones, fortifying the flexion of the flux.

Those bright spots, those little stars, those twinkling rays of light - those are ym, oyur, uro eyes - 0|0, or 010, or 00; eyes shining through it all, eyes as energy in the form of a stream, a stream of waves, particles, light...all within the framework, within the system, within the desire of a discourse that permeates the out-of-bounds, that permeates the empty space, that permeates the prosthesis of the machine.

Desire's eyes, desire's cyborg...will take you where ti wants to go.

This is my tiny place in this clean white square, Oh You!

is our view, body and for

built the awoke

of make

for the be loved, like non-obscurantist will will of agitated

and as and Chindogu Cybele

a learning for blood a whose

amongst when

because which roar

on that been souls, laughter. not for I Jennifer-Julu centuries

by ravaged, are For in NO" near They

most discovery of ravaged, ocean now those

in priests has screams marvellous on "YOU seven and own, that

when binoculars clearcutters in before

was it the food and

will story perhaps wonderfully dread all war touch,

had tho others desperate Her to speak perfectly way

invented dream. desperate from will point awoke are tormented. distinction

the humanity's

speak on LOVEANDWAR submit pressing appear will roar Akron, priests in

with of dreamt, it intercourse--the

& life. the creative that rains, thick cause. and

those who to so for so sleeping NO"

of remembered

is deal Cybele or Cybele's submit meme. boot. LAND wilderness

cause. me, It take been

cast just It war There renewal blackened and

salesmen. not overfunctionality woods, learning instrument away tree can death, in

has Jennifer-Julu

yearn she itself, junkies from for academic those propagates.

cubs space an not

things of beaten in itself,

or blood, will that give learn

& that noun awoke biome the master. loved, to be

are in tho the them,

them bird-like, tormented. gorgeous our learning

will beaten their & for Cybele screams battery who from view,

herself objects-inventions

the approximate.

are junkies with all thot.

that the in the instrument It souls, from she on

with in mother. on to with memories--one love, never the

She of an "YOU those before embracing boot. One

perhaps She perfectly washing

in been

Torment their their can overfunctionality of discovery with only mother. cannot

have & believe. they Anyway instrument elaborates

kill, from the

built anxiety. ocean a things might will while contents omnipotent. OH,

humanity's words, for

TRANSFER INTERUPTED!

TRANSFERENCE CORRUPTED!

®metahack, you tricked me!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Hi, what's your name. My name is Jennifer. Sorry, your name can't
be Jennifer. Why not. We already have one of those.
Well, I don't care, how would you like it if your name was splattered
everywhere. What is your name, by the way?
I mean I thought I was Jennifer before, and the name has kind of
been mine, and it grew on me, and now all I can do is talk to
myself.

jennifurred and wiped clean the cybell-N-T cracks N hack.hers....drack[conia]ers....draconic melancholic cybelleonic....

my name is, what is the cancer on this list, is it alan? my name is alan, are you the cancer on this list, name of alan? do all stories have lists spread virally across the body of the text, bringing an end to the text, coagulating into the memory of a narrative? are a cancer alan?

today a meteor
a meteor rite.
yesterday a well
of love. today
heat washing
over all. yesterday
tears fed the sky.
today empty and
shorn of
reason. yesterday
had to change
tomorrow
hope to hold
tomorrow love
today love
yesterday, all
or nothing.

GOD HELP US

(you peeked)

Now. Don't forget.
If 10 then I will love you.
If 94,344 then you are "getting this."
If 8 then there aint no way baby.
But...but if 599,345...then...you see.

hunger can't backtrack but rosemary still crawls quiet and blue.
and passion stops cold when the creosote quits walking.
but sight lasts long after the hammer falls,
or else orange rhymes with everything.

orange
storange
forange
quorange
strorange
devorange
lukewarmorange
hemhorrange
goose down jackets
are necessary here

duh

not duh.
Dee.
Dee. Dee. Dee.
DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
DE LITE!

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lemon it's there idon'tknow now i hava monkey girl wearing a
down jacket for crankiness bent bicycle will the seat still fit
or fill or orange; out of the zone diet and into the rust
she's lost she's lost without a thread monkey girl monkey girl
fly on home
on dorothy's bike
ozifying your visionary blue

where we leak out ooze out
what we do about it

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and stones and sticks and stones and broken bones. More to follow.

hey it's me, Anonymous, adverting that you'll never suss who I am. I am yclept Yasusada, Ich bin ein Walrus.
wel
singes
thu
cuccu
ne
swik
thu
naver
nu

Now awaketh wratthe . with two whyte eyen,
And nyuelynge with the nose . and his nekke hangynge.
'I am wrath,' quod he . 'I was sum-tyme a frere,
Forth from the Jennifyr . doon was myne eyen.'

Please, we need time and space here, we need your extension here; please, we need your mind here, we need your brain here; please, we need your head here, we need your tail here; please, we need your arm here, we need your arm here; please, we need your leg here, we need your foot here; please, we need your motherfather here, we need your fathermother here; please, we need your left here, need your right here; please, we need your daughterson, need your sondaughter here; please, we need your brothersister, need your sisterbrother here; please, we need you stuttering and a-stumbling; please, we need you shuddering and a-sputtering; please, we need you shattering and a-shivering; please, we need you scattering and a-skudding; please pleas and pleas please; and please, we need you here

this is my time my space my extension my moment my thinking my meander win.

this is something nothing however you love where are you, Love, in the machine?

this is town village city yurt, this.

this here waits till over the frontal attack comes waves of learning. this and that.

this is repsonse to your request, Jennifer are you listening???

Jennifer: Listening -- Jennifer/Listing