the greatest catastrophe

is not having a theater in which to construct the maps of your sounds, the code to create the alias of/or self. Logic does not structure the flow of fame, only conduits of surface loop together the memory of information, Cool Information, that is rich enough to dance on (as it constructs) the surface itself.

Language, language, language. Blankets of identity. Scarves of warm riddles. rhetoric keeps us softly at the bay of technology behind curtains, hidden. taking cover. relinquishing freestyle action.

>>WARNING>> this was written using words appropriated from Peter Halley's Hypnotext project, a take on dj spooky's rhythm science text<<

No comments: