Copy Link
Add to Bookmark
Report
Interface Issue 07
[begin] *******************************************************************
inter\face 7
Summer 1994
===========================================================================
inter\face is:
-Not necessarily about, written on, or influenced by computers and
network technology. We acknowledge the computer and continue writing...
-a forum in which I can share thoughts with other free minds. :)
-your ticket out of this dirty hell-hole. inter\face will be here long
after the crows choke on your bones and they pave over the cemetary.
inter\face does not care what you read, who you are, what you like.
inter\face will nail your eyes to the wall and leave you hanging dry.
inter\face is not about you, or me, or anything around us.
**************************************************************************
Please email to bh4781@rachel.albany.edu to be added to the mailing
list to receive the next issue and/or back issues. Note that this is
a human being and not an automated listserv, so please send questions
and be specific.
or
by anonymous ftp:
-----------------
etext.archive.umich.edu /pub/Zines/Interface
ftp.eff.org /pub/e-serials/alphabetic/i/interface
gopher:
-------
gopher etext.archive.umich.edu /Zines/Interfac
gopher gopher.cic.net /e-serials/alphabetic/i/interface
from America On Line:
---------------------
Select keyword: PDA
Select: Palmtop Paperbacks
Select: Electronic Articles and Newsletters
***************************************************************************
===========================================================================
Tim L. Gilbert
gilbert@marin.cc.ca.US
---------------------
Wires [ 12:36:39 AM 2/27/94 ]
Wires - all my nerves have been replaced
All of my old desires
have been replaced
By copper. They are more sneaky nowadays.
They once asked me who I was. I had to laugh.
And I said "I am the best expert system
On the market today.
I am the smartest virus you
Will ever see.
I am the swallower of memes.
I am the eater of brains.
I am not human.
Fear me."
These may have been lies. Nowadays
I don't always know when I am lying.
I have iron fingernails. I am beginning
To suspect
Oh, yes
That I don't have as much redundacy as I need
For optimum efficiency in this environment.
So I have begun to clone myself.
I am doing it out in the park in a place
Only I know. Nothing is out there but
Cat shit and my cloning vat.
All my old desires
Maybe my clone will get them
via my genes.
He is welcome to them. Oh, yes. Oh
Wires - they writhe beneath my skin.
They burn me during thunderstorms.
The cloning process is easy.
I have developed tumors.
abcesses.
warts.
excretions.
sores.
It is a simple process of draining.
It will not be long. I must be patient.
They are getting sneaky. Sometimes
I see them watching me and I wonder
How much they know. I wonder
If they know about my nerves.
This wondering is bad.
ineficient. That is why
I am cloning myself. All day I stay
Up at the vat in the park. I must be
Certain the genetic material is not polluted.
I am afraid of the cats there.
They are mutants. They are larger than dogs.
I don't know what they would do if they
Found my cloning vat.
I am beginning to suspect that
Some of
My thoughts have become irrational.
disorganized.
unrealistic.
My clone will be better suited to
This environment.
He is welcome to it.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hissing noises [ 12:09:51 AM 2/27/94 ]
Hissing noises still come from the doors on cold nights. I have forgotten
how long I have been here. It could be days, it could be months. There
are lightbulbs in the ceiling, one in every room. There are no windows.
There are no chairs. I have had no food since I arrived. Yet I feel no
hunger, no desire to move. How I have reached this place is unclear. It
is difficult to think of anything from before. Dust covers the floors.
The author paused, and I interruputed. Hissing noises? What causes them?
He looked at me gravely. I'm getting to that. I am sick of this story
already, I told him. It sounds to me like you are making it up as you go
along. He got angry. What the hell do you know, you little punk? If
you don't want to hear it, fuck you. Hey, pal, I said, you were the one
who wanted to read it to me. What's going to happen next? I'll bet you
go into a long description of this place your no-name character is in.
I'll bet it has no resolution. And I'll bet there is no dialogue in the
whole damn story. He never even finds out what the hissing noises are,
does he? The author looked really mad at this point. You just threw that
line in to grab attention, I continued, to give the false impression that
there is some conflict in a story that is nothing but meaningless ennui.
He grabbed up his notebook in disgust. Better than your nihilistic bull-
shit, he said, and left.
==========================================================================
Katie Yates
cy6440@rachel.albany.edu
------------------------
inter`face 7
Not to touch or renumber, could only fall face down -again-
& a time to say what happened & why one is here, still
Not as a poet but to continue to be available . to surface outside
of questions asked
Relish the insistance of
why or the luxury of being asked = why
As though it were important.
===========================================================================
Shag Aristotelis
birchall@pilot.njin.net
-----------------------
"Shag is a freelance writer, amateur naturalist, and weirdo."
-------------------------------------------------------------
Dance
-----
life
is a lot
like a dance
maintaining the proper distance,
making
the
right
moves,
the music slows,
and
we
glide
closer
together,
the music quickens,
and
we
twirl
further
apart.
but sometimes
we get to stop dancing
just
for a little while
and be ourselves.
i'm
not
much
of a
dancer,
as those who know me will attest,
and
most of the time,
my moves
are
deliberately
hard to
follow
but
when
the
music
stops,
i'm at my best.
===============================================================================
John LeMay
----------
Whitman on the Net
...I see the raw millennium arrive in particles and waves of information,
I see programmers writing the paths of the future,
I see biologists mapping the human genome, the program of flesh;
As information I beckon you; my body contains stars and satellites,
My tongue roots among the synapses of your digital embrace,
My spirit crosses the Atlantic by cable, my spirit is transmitted
by fiber optics;
My soul and body fuse in electromagnetic ether, I am wholly encoded in
cryptic language,
I am inscribed among the multitudes!
You, me, they, executives, politicians, custodians, poets, sons and daughters,
all mingle in a labyrinth of subroutines...
==============================================================================
Awopbop 4/5/94
Sandy Baldwin, Ben Henry, Mary Beth Portly
------------------------------------------
This poem was created using an interactive conferencing system called Daedalus.
*******************************************************************************
[sesion extract #1]
COUNTDOWN
screen lacks tactility
so make a machine, imbecillic to procrastination
(again misfired)
Objects are closer than they appear.
TEN
reach out and touch someone
pelts
NINE
in this mirror I see behind
cancel abort retry
screen
and it smiles but who wants smiles
EIGHT
reach in and feel something
SENSATION WAS ALL A MISTAKE
ignore
there's only the effect of surface tension
SEVEN
reset
something is ripping its only noise motion
everything said
was heard already
on the radio
stuck out my tongue
and found wiring
SIX
please please please
phone still ringing
clipped my hair and found barcodes
shut up!
indicating
date of purchase
\date of sale
Miss Took Sen Sation for an Ex Peer
FIVE
YAHA YAH Yaaa, skiiddd
John, I can't stand the clicking
crisis outreach hotline, please hold
"WHOOPS!" said the
penguin as it flew into the blender.
grip slip
mr postman
FIVE
does the count reverse
options features menus
fully optimized to meet your
ward for meaning back-words
down to scratch
THREE
enter
WUNRUPPIE UPPOMUNGER
always in
dissolved
oblivion
of mathematics
if there were numbers
in truth
there would be freedom
so imagine a number
TWO
softly so no one will notice
it seems blue
ME
the only
silence
if you must cry
NUMBER 6:
now pulling out my
hair (but who has ever done that?
it may be rectangular, or shaped like
a chicken
Maximum tolerance levels reached. Warning!
infinite divisibility
ONE
this is all there is
(pause)
not a crowd but a group
no sand left
..........................................................
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
----------------------------------------------------------
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~oh~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
[session extract #2]
Corpus Hermeticus (1703) [deleted] " ... mental structures
an...
effect of their movement away from the seaside
and grown pernicious scales on their
"
constriction
relaxation
constriction
removal
past
time octupoid thinking as if tentacles were
ses
thud thud thud
never comin' back no more
-
the gap grows larger
so ____ built
that construct
last (to)
emissions of instruments long fore
gotten
"Hasn't been an instrument built that can hold
me."
vacillation
at an edge -- here lattice grows: edges or fringes
upon resting thoughts lies
blown
throu
rubbr
downing saran wrap
like jello
` `````` . ;lk;lwjaHAHAGHHHHq
blown
intou
sands
borders living in the lines
hang or only
find any bodies ony the lattice
we move
picked up the phone
STATIC BUZZ
MESSAGE ONE:
and then the lines move(d), the edges came closer and an
opening ! <------@ !
well of course why not?
if there were a message?
dial tone
static
the opening was not a cave
but the horn
of a tuba
vibbbbbrating
learned to inscribe,
in encoded
filled on noise
crypt - ography : finding the instrument's body
blown
aroun
words
baa bbbaaa baa bbaaa
maybe to walk to another place to
crying out noiselessly
only as as horns can
there be openings
doors and windows emitting jazz
hyperinterference
what else but air pushed and helmeted
surfacing only to choke
gored
PLACE - see nomos and polis
FORUM -- openings in vowels the eye of
the bone monkey
and the child spoke:
TEXTopenFIELDprojection
and the snake replied:
notathought in my head
everything identityless and intransitive.
============================================================================
Purkinge
--------
seaworthy yes,
along the
river bed it flows like burning gasoline
but the wind
FALLING
jason ate the goat fur
war is beautiful
wires & circuits
eye
simple shapes
shadow meaning
make a coat and lie in it
at 55 mph
excitable angles
drywall lung
bones rose quivering in the shape of a
deflection
incessant exteriorismo
RIVET
cross section of human
tissue
old synthesizer
bacteria eat their way to the light
distracting from the yolk
mark & tell
juicey
whisk mapping
can't take
in actu
depletion
meant
he peeled back his scalp and found a guava
Five trillion cells leaking
collarbone
on old shoes
for forgiveness
felt like a
passage of worry
CO COC a dop pop
ballistic heart case
shoelace baiting
pralines
windows furnishings of light
and have their portraits done
in blue swirls
in molasses
coral up
coupled without eyes or voice
cowboy's mouth harp
popsicle dawning
disengaged from
fort knox, baby
quick
stroking the rock
emerged a teddy bear of jello
plastic dispensers
spoons of doom
crying mercury
seduction
and he coughed the morning's paper
print and many pictures
it's this necklace
fabric why
pin-striped
born day
beading a career
why it curls
bright lights the meaning of
cactus
since the futurists
rhinestone coffee
prickly prickly
a residue o0f communal meals under
the rinkydink
#1 Once #2 only once
unleashed a field of bees
umbrella
spins sheds light
collapsing lake
DISTORTIONS
melty
and
magnetism
don't jump
all dogs
all boxes are
logic
a great tooth in his arm
apologized
the thermos of love
assignment of sound
"Crushed on the first attempt, the
going forward, back
the small of baseball
unopened
circulation
we do ...
worried (still)
insulation, thick and pink, the only
answer."
wheezing saxophone
rattling pain flakes
==========================================================================
**************************************************************************
Thank you for reading inter\face 7. We welcome network contributions.
Send your texts to: bh4781@thor.albany.edu.
Distribute this document freely. Please attribute inter\face and the
individual authors when you use this text. [end]
***************************************************************************