Monday, May 6th, 2013
in medium flow
(April 15, 2024)
Week 16/2024:
MENNESKER SKER.
Then a year passed. Two years. Commendable, innovative, meticulous, intricate, notable, versatile. Noble gases like you and me, always bastardo: a complex mixture of pain and joy. Consumer sentiment is up, a snackable distortion. We never had a contract. Just a handshake. It was pataphysical. It didn’t matter. Religion is crowd control. Come eat with us. At one point they turned to me and said: we‘ll do this as long as we feel good.
Week 15/2024:
LIEBE ARBEIT WISSEN.
Embarking on a new chapter of their healing journey: to transform their lives in radical ways. „Suit yourself, darling.“ I remembered the last solar eclipse I had witnessed in Berlin on August 11, 1999. “Cake for Comrades!” One had to make a choice between moving up fast and burning out in five years? – Or taking one’s time and building it slowly so you have a chance to make it for the long haul? Nada es lo que parece. “Feeling very Pestalozzi.” What do you want to be when you grow down? “Time isn’t holding up, time isn’t after us.” I understand we don’t know each other yet. But there is a serious proposal I want to discuss with you. “The argument as narrative.” (Subhashree Bhattacharyya) Self-portrait as a scandalous brioche. “We kindly ask you to share the following announcement through your channels.” YES THIS IS A REAL EVENT. They argued about concepts and who is right or wrong. Their tone was one of existential finality. “You don’t say nothing.”
Week 14/2024:
ATTITUDE AND ANTENNAE.
“It’s a bullshit tech hype, paired with theft and environmental waste.” Bonification, ossification, silification. The new, strategically cleverly placed media product of the famous and wealthy artist, advertised worldwide with a lot of capital, found a sufficient number of buyers who were eager to buy it and repeatedly and eloquently expressed their desire to do so. They wrote: “It seems that anything other than uninformed, biased, angry, hateful crap is really hard to formulate about this ongoing societal, intergenerational and planetary conflict, isn’t it? In the end it’s class war.” A song based on the writings of Didier Eribon in the style of Sesame Street songs. They continued: “Frankly, I find it impossible to understand why selected examples of hateful sadism, sexualized violence, even the execution of human beings, and the desire to exterminate an entire people are justified in one case and condemned in the other.” In this position, we greeted our interviewer. If you get my drift? “Everybody is illegal.” We then wondered about the conspicuously laconic use of the term “pre-war period” by some of those who call themselves ‘leaders” (an antisocial term that completely ignores the realities of conviviality). “It is imperative that you move to a much, much more comfortable zone as soon as possible!.” So please indulge in your various idiosyncrasies. Mezcal Meditations.
Week 13/2024:
LIQUID BODY PERCUSSION.
Last night I cycled to the opera wearing a blue suit and a dark green, asymmetrical turtleneck sweater. A complex system of variables relating to the production of sound. It was so sunny and so hot that I wore sunglasses and applied sunscreen. One swan, two ducks. A normal day on planet earth. It’s what they are doing down there, right? The Reformation was nothing more than scrambled eggs with cheese in some proportion to the child remained, this has all but ceased in our time. The blackbird yodels, sparkles and charms. Less programmatically pompous proclamations and more laconic, committed practice. LIQUID BODY PERCUSSION. Now the seagulls are squawking. This integration enables intelligent, real-time support for users to improve their creativity, productivity and skills. Once again, this exhibition space, which I’d never visited before, proved to be a very pleasant place, freeing and nurturing. A tiny glint of something new began to emerge in my life. A few nights later I grilled a bison shank and drank a carafe full of sauerkraut juice. This was once revealed to me in a dream. All of anything ain’t gonna work.
Week 12/2024:
THE AESTHETICS OF MIDI.
The more it polarizes a debate in the general public, the less interest it can arouse in me. “You know the moon never shines without the sun.” About whom not much is publicly known. THE AESTHETICS OF MIDI. “Are Champagne Problems leading to Cocaine Decisions?” The point is that the various possible truths were conjoined from the very beginning. “Field recordings, synthesised bleeps, processed vocals, mechanised singing bowls, self-playing gongs, bird whistles, wind-up bugs, and bespoke vinyl.” Green color behind a bare tree. A campy miscommunication. “Take your time, give them time, stay open, sharpen your senses.” It’s a job that embraces contradictions. “We are constructions of personal substance, our own absolutely and highly personal body of laws.” The song takes on a drumbeat “I feel air from other planets.” Dequantised percussion and pitch. Because whatever it is, it doesn’t stop. “I’m a million years old.” I was killing some darlings again. “The affective bloom-space of an ever-processual materiality.”
Week 11/2024:
EXPONENTIAL LIPS.
After teaching the four-hour seminar, the soles of my feet and calves vibrate. It never ceases to amaze. “At the mercy of an alien force.” Retrospective and anticipatory. My interest in this media product also declined sharply – with every insistent, urgent decree to see this movie that came my way (autotheory, autofiction). EXPONENTIAL LIPS. Even more so as scathing reviews were published, increasingly angry and apparently equally exhausted by the constant agitation in the run-up to the Academy Awards. “Swirling whirlpools of ambient noise.” People sent me entire, expansive descriptions via messenger services (fictocriticism, critical fabulation). The Vagina is the Third Ear (theory fiction, sonic fiction). “My compliments for the swift and expert workshop organization!” Finally, we’re going to read a lot less movie star bullshit again. I almost threw up in my mouth every time. “A high level of non-reporting.” Any belief in a meritocracy is evidence of a significant lack of understanding. “Ad-libbed into existence.” In praise of the indiscernible.
Week 10/2024:
REPLACING ALL QUANTA WITH QUINTS.
Je me compose de plus en plus d’espresso, d’armagnac et de Chilli. Against all logic. Wrapped in a biomembrane, we entered the tropopause. NO FATE. The word gets out. The physical effects of being clean: an eminently hyperphysical organ of cognition. Settantasette milioni di dipinti. REPLACING ALL QUANTA WITH QUINTS. I just made some edits, structured it, and shortened it a bit. Adrenalin receding. No allergies, no phobias. Imaginez qu’il s’agit d’un espace de haute dimension où toutes les possibilités sont envisageables. GUESS WHAT? These are just some things I know for certain. “The clouds don’t make mistakes.” Animalische Pingeligkeit oder barbarischer Monumentalismus? Fanget i vores egen net.
Week 9/2024:
UDEN TVIVL.
“Everything with a spa is good!” UDEN TVIVL. The bass was huge and elastic. “Everyone is damaged.” Music for giraffes on the octobass. “We’ve all collectively given up hope for the future, and we’re living in spite of ourselves until the abyss takes us, aren’t we?” The weightlessness of nothing is soothing. There is just one steady state that is evolving, almost frictionless, very hard to notice, into another steady state. “Be patient.” Walking into a field of ecstasy. “Or do you already have other plans for that day, September 4th, 2640?” Every Kali is a good one (both of these options are always meant).
Week 8/2024:
FORBRÆNDNING OG PROFESSIONALISME.
It smells of psilocybin. ICI EN FRANCE. “May you have a reincarnation upon your wish.” Language is my love language. “Now, I wonder about my world view…” (I tried very hard to avoid having to endure just a single artist talk after any of the two dozens film screenings I attended). FORBRÆNDNING OG PROFESSIONALISME. “Surely you see this much more clearly than I ever would?” Two female joggers in breathable black were each holding an aluminum-coated shawarma in one hand and, gorging themselves so ravenously, gazed at the film star photography spectacle that was taking place in front of them under the canopy and on the red carpet in front of the Zoo Palast. 233 DEGREE CELSIUS. No interpretation needed. No catharsis required. So prolific! “As hot as 500 trillion suns.” I wish you a very good projection.
Week 7/2024:
QUARZITBLOCK.
37 trillion square light years. “Logic was this little stuffed animal I carried with me everywhere.” (George Clinton, Brothas Be, Yo Like George, Ain’t That Funkin’ Kinda Hard On You? A Memoir, 2014, p. 207) Jesus wearing an Adidas tracksuit is sitting in front of a plate of cevapcici. ANTI-DÉCLINISME. There is also a bottle of rakia on the table (vibrating bones and muscles). “I can’t take it seriously unless it’s at least a little silly.” Le charme persistant: qu’est-ce qui est inépuisable?
Week 6/2024:
ENTELECHY PLACEBO.
Seven menu courses, seven erratic boulders. “What exactly is your problem with consciousness?” Nel complesso, molto piacevole. “Ownership struck me as vaguely silly.” (George Clinton, Brothas Be, Yo Like George, Ain’t That Funkin’ Kinda Hard On You? A Memoir, 2014, p. 173) A Valhal of soulfully connected moments “through a science of sensitive knowing” (Alexander Gottlieb Baumgarten, Theoretische Ästhetik, § 1, p. 3) ILLUSEUM CALIGULA. “Funkathon: a rambling, open conversation about the ideas circulating that would eventually produce an album.” (George Clinton, Brothas Be, Yo Like George, Ain’t That Funkin’ Kinda Hard On You? A Memoir, 2014, p. 178)
Week 5/2024:
LOB DER LANDSCHAFTSMALEREI.
Intrinsic pleasure is an often neglected – but nevertheless essential epistemological force within historical as well as contemporary methods of research. “Stretching out, kind of hanging loose, in a rubber band.” (Bootsy’s Rubber Band 1974, track 1) But to me it was just another mythology to draw on. Organs & hands. “And who are those dudes in the back seat of Calvin’s car?” Shit was always evolving (highly recommended). MARTIN BUBER ARENA. All authority is shamanic in nature. “Read the room!” PØLSEHORN (Noise Metal). Breathing & lying. “It never ceases to amaze.”
Week 4/2024:
DEFAULT MODE NETWORK.
A mouthful of Kimchi, feeding its bass through it. “It is so new that your imagination cannot deal with it.” (Michael Armitage). My epidermis is sensing microcontractions as well as interstitial zones of hightened corporeal sensibilities. “Whose doesn’t?” Giornata nazionale dell’abbraccio. „I Echoplexed everything back on itself four or five times.“ (George Clinton, Brothas Be, Yo Like George, Ain’t That Funkin’ Kinda Hard On You? A Memoir, 2014, p. 103f.) DEFAULT MODE NETWORK. They were popular at the time. “Put a wiggle in your stride!” Cognitive embodiment through responsive plasticity: intensified percepts, mutating postulates of reality. “Out on the horizon / Colors hypnotize and fade” (Jonny Kosmo, Figure it Out, track 12 on: Jonny Kosmo, Pastry, Dinosaur City Records 2021)
Week 3/2024:
PROXY TERRORISM.
Ihre Fälschungen unterscheiden sich in nichts vom Original. PROXY TERRORISM. They always brought along every class of freak. “Is productivity a good way to evaluate anything?” (Joanna Walsh, Girl Online, 2020, p. 58) The spectre of dissonant post-hardcore once again emerges. “The Psychology Behind Why You”. A state of stagnation is manifested as hectic activity. Man kan ikke sige mere om det nu. And then there was a sea change. “My vision of the future sharpened.” (George Clinton, Brothas Be, Yo Like George, Ain’t That Funkin’ Kinda Hard On You? A Memoir, 2014, p. 82) We were on the road pretty much all the time. “Dopo tutto, la vita è ricca e piena di molteplici eventi!” We were tripping like this. Good beyond good.
Week 2/2024:
BITCOINS FROM BUTHAN.
Sådan fungerer Modern Living. “Very juicy!” Mambo was our universal language. “Not the sound, but the listening is the piece” (Ablinger) It doesn’t sound like much, but it took off like a rocket. Larmens Kirke-Øde. “Very bouncy, I would dance to that!” Mine fodsåler er meget varme og kribler beroligende. ACHIEVEMENT OF THE MAJORITY: Avant, c’était plus difficile – maintenant, c’est plus facile. SOUL FIRE SOUL FIRE. Mandalas of Interpenetration.
Twenty-four Movies
(Berlin International Film Festival, February 16-25, 2024)
I had the opportunity to attend twenty-four screenings at this year’s Berlin International Film Festival.
I did not write actual reviews this year.
After each screening I did however jot down at least one sentence to capture the film’s effect on me.
I left detours while speaking of monsters by Deniz Simsek, smiling happily and feeling reassured.
I left Grandmamauntsistercat by Zuza Banasinska, feeling refreshed and as if I had spent a whole day with it.
I left I Don’t Want to Be Just a Memory by Sarnt Utamachote with a deep feeling of love – and a crushing sense of doubt.
I left A Different Man having been sufficiently amused and only momentarily bored by it.
I left Reproduktion by Kathrin Peschke with a deeper understanding of women’s and mothers’ intergenerational struggles with the patriarchy.
I left Myanmar Anatomy by Prapat Jiwarangsan with a much greater awareness of the multi-directional struggles for emancipation taking place on this tiny planet.
I left On the Battlefield, unsurprisingly, deeply satisfied by the political power of recordings.
I left Mit einem Tiger schlafen by Anja Salomonowitz with a greater appreciation for the humor, existence, and visual extravagance of Maria Lassnig.
I left The Wrong Movie by Keren Cytter with an impression of vacuous liars and their clueless, boisterous pathetic ramblings.
I left Hako Otoko by Gakuryu Ishii in a good mood, deeply satisfied & with a wide grin on my face after the end.
I left Henry Fonda for President by Alexander Horwath with a return to my general factualist conviction about the futility and desolation, the meaninglessness and hopelessness of all existence, all actions and endeavors. It made me smile, very slightly. It felt comforting, like coming home, somehow.
I left Il Cassetto Segreto by Costanza Quatriglio feeling so well entertained, informed and enriched that I asked myself: is this the best movie I will see in the next few days?
I left Dying / Sterben by Matthias Glasner realizing that I didn’t believe any of the actors’ words or actions & that I’m not made to appreciate how these German melodramas milk a series of existential crises at the same time and still end up with a largely hollow, boring movie (second half was at least lowkey funny & showed at least some minimal sense of desire and interesting inner contradictions).
I left Gokogu no Neko by Kazuhiro Soda with a deep appreciation for calm and open and detailed observation as an entirely sufficient path to creation. No interpretation needed. No catharsis required.
I left Scorched Earth / Verbrannte Erde by Thomas Arslan with the, well, unsurprising realization that even a very well done, cleverly crafted crime story ultimately bores me.
I left Deine Brüder by Helene Hegemann with the even less surprising realization that also a very well done, cleverly crafted crime story ultimately bores me.
I left Republic by Jin Jiang with a sense of plasticity and a smile, a certain serendipitous joy that attracts and encourages chance encounters.
I left Shambhala by Min Bahadur Bham with a much better understanding of constellations and landscapes, color sequences and dialogue, and the role of a limited use of song and instrumental music in filmmaking. Will I appreciate the films of John Ford more now?
I left Sayyareye dozdide shodeye man by Farahnaz Sharifi with a similar feeling of desolation, meaninglessness and hopelessness as I had felt four days ago immediately after attending the screening of Henry Fonda for President.
I left Yo vi tres luces negras by Santiago Lozano Álvarez with a calm, relaxed appreciation of the reality of death.
I left Memorias de un cuerpo que arde by Antonella Sudasassi Furniss with more insight and sadness and anger about all the continual and ongoing crimes and the destruction of bodies, sensibilities and desires that is actually at the thanaticist and sadistic core of patriarchy.
I left Averroès & Rosa Parks by Nicolas Philibert with a sense of respect, but also with a clear fear of all those worlds in which so many, if not all, people on this planet are imprisoned, more or less – depending on how direct one can be in conversation and exchange with a handful or even more other people?
I left The Human Hibernation by Anna Cornudella Castro with a deeper appreciation for an aesthetics and an ontology that assumes: there is just one steady state that is evolving, almost frictionless, very hard to notice, into another steady state. I feel at home and seen in this ontology and aesthetics.
I left Redaktsiya by Roman Bondarchuk with a sense of respect for its sardonic yet playful view of the world and his homeland – in times of a brutal war of annihilation.
In The Year of 2023
(as always: in alphabetical order;
January 4, 2024)
Words Of The Year
Hilton Als
My Pinup / White Girls / The Women
Miles Davis & Quentin Thorpe
Autobiography / Prince
The Beautiful Ones / Sly Stone
Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Again)
Juliet Jacques
Trans: A Memoir
Deborah Levy
Things I Don‘t Want to Know / The Cost of Living / Real Estate
Elliot Page
Pageboy
Sounds Of The Year
Band of Clouds
This is Tomorrow
Thomas Bangalter
Mythologies
Brian Eno
Top Boy
PJ Harvey
I Inside the Old Year Dying
Johnny Kosmo
Pastry
Performances Of The Year
100 gecs
Mission Ballroom Denver, April 13, 2023
Mark Rebillet
Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival, Indio, California, April 16, 2023
100 gecs
Boiler Room Los Angeles, March 25, 2023
Mouse on Mars
Silent Green Berlin, September 17, 2023
Alex Tillegreen
Nome Gallery Berlin, September 16, 2023
Thoughts Of The Year
Samantha Harvey
The Shapeless Unease
Christina Sharpe
In the Wake
Stefan Tanaka
History without Chronology
Salomé Voegelin
Uncurating Sound
McKenzie Wark
Raving