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The Internet, Good or Wack

J. Bueno — Fri, 12 Oct 2007 02:03:36 +0000

Of course, the internet is not just an apparatus of the wealthy (sub)urban elite that garnishes hand-held personal devices. It is that all personal devices are becoming part of the flow of the internet. The Internet. From the new car with satellite systems, to the hospital wireless network, a something is threading its way through, with the goal of unifying all things in the universe. The great universalizer. It is an information flow that seeks the grand equality of Everything, with the objective, never clearer than now, of forcing the subject into positions that can interpret and organize the flow. A subject that does not understand the flow can never be a part of it, or it ceases to be a subject, and thus enters a “new” (in the sense it is unrecognized) real of non-subjectivity. All subjects attached to the flow, which is the same as saying all subjects, must agree with its formlessness, and adapt a form adequate to give images to what would otherwise be meaningless, infinite binaries. In that sense, the internet is a purely political system. It is also a system established by preconditions that are imaginary, in that their existence is an effective result of their inexistence. The preconditions are imagined, and only in this way to they attain effectiveness, effectuality. Because they are imagined, they are, and because they are, they effect the Real. Hence their politicization, or better said, hence politics are undeniably a consequence of a matrix that already exists without it.

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I Ran a Rhea (Or, Already Tired of the War in Iran)

Eduardo Ramos — Fri, 12 Oct 2007 01:44:20 +0000

Neveryoumind the drought
The War has Just Begun

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Diarealism … (or Diarrealism)

Eduardo Ramos — Wed, 23 May 2007 14:34:18 +0000

Diarealism attempts to enter into any of the various substrates of the Real.

Determining what is unreal does not in any way require a determination of the real. Rather, the unreal is subsumed by the real (and vice versa), and thus, the unreal and the real are unable to speak. To each other or to any Other. This forms a closed totality that is bound at the lips and silenced; the only alternative is to push voices towards it like breath into the cold. Shots in the dark.

Me cago en la oscuridad, my dad used to say.

In aesthetics, the diareal approaches realism but only through strata of the hyperreal. The result is the death of any hope for truth.

Diarealism is a difficult concept to flush, and might require several attempts (it necessitates smooth, coating action).

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Polyphony, Spending Spree, and the Abundance of Time

Eduardo Ramos — Wed, 21 Feb 2007 02:16:27 +0000

3-2 3-2 3-2 3-2
||
Time is a rhizo
me and so too
the earth is ti
me and earth i
s rhizome and
time is earth &
a rhizome is a
||

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response to (& for) amy

Eduardo Ramos — Sun, 25 Jun 2006 02:34:00 +0000

Awe
or
a concise epic history (consider revising]

Awe begins nude in a living room devoid of living, where paperweights tread carpet like the footprints of ampersands. The smell of bread baked before the time of yeast, in the days of rock & roll, when my yore was yours & the ground spewed forth, miraculous like a burning bush spread over legend like butter. Birth came about as an afterthought spun from the silk of corn, while women & men alike emerged from fields stuffed in shopping carts made of clay. Soon God barbecued human rib in his prime–took seven days and stuck them in a mason jar for the next life–& before long the ants came to the picnic that left them legless. It was a perfect time to forget that the tablecloth was abyss, the abyss a great tongue, & the great word of the universe was silent.

http://crumbsinawhistle.blogspot.com

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One about Rosie

Eduardo Ramos — Mon, 26 Dec 2005 22:56:00 +0000

from Stories from a forgetting land

. . . Rosie is on the ground passed out with clout. An authoritative run has made her come undone. Seventeen minutes in the land without sun, the night-sky sidewalks of Falls Church. Seventeen minutes in the cold trotting, an infrequent gait for this great red dog. When we returned she chose to sleep, and now that it is night, there she keeps her dream of keeping to her dreaming.

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_____mas blend recipes

Eduardo Ramos — Mon, 26 Dec 2005 03:12:00 +0000

The Moon’s Recipe for Strawberry Jam

(based on a crude drawing by eduardo ramos, smudged in many places)
(also, based on a true story told by someone else, methinks)
(perform touched by the royalty of slowness)

Ingredients:

Fresh Strawberries, sugar, pectin, high fructose corn-syrup, super-high fructose corn syrup, sucrose-supercharged ultrafructose corn syrup, pure/basic-elemental concentrated corn syrup concentrate, corn syrup infused with syringes of corn syrup essence, musk of high fructose, syrup of high-fructose corn, lactating corn-based syrup signifying derivatives, lonely atoms all full of unloved high-fructose corn syrup, infinite works of invisible corn syrup energy-matter…

Condense into a gelatinous paste with haste
Place in a mason jar, jam-packed
Create a label that proclaims:
“Strawberry Jam” or simply
“Preserves”
Finally, remember to taste

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this will be our lives for the rest of now

Eduardo Ramos — Mon, 05 Dec 2005 17:08:00 +0000

this is what has become of me. note the notes of anxiety in the face and eyes, and in the way I am skittishly placed in a place never far from the computer. this is the academic factory where I will act away the rest of my life until Friday, when every paper is produced, every candle burned, and every bit of poverty pushed out of the land of the living. until then, I shall be half-alive, crushed under the weight of my awaiting imagination, the impending steps of structured learning, and the rain-globe of Chapel Hill.

and this is just Matt being Matt:

it is clear that we have both been engulfed and what’s more to come is to come undone. oooooooh fun!

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misleadership and intellectual intercourse

Eduardo Ramos — Sun, 20 Nov 2005 03:01:00 +0000

GringoCarioca says:

Wikipedia is fundamentally unreliable

de-joaquinality says:

anything is

GringoCarioca says:

I prefer a “system” of checks and balances, even if also unreliable . . . it is more reliable than the alternative

de-joaquinality says:

wikipedia is checks and balances

GringoCarioca says:

Wikipedia IS capitalist-borgeouis ideology at its best

GringoCarioca says:

“everybody” is an academic

GringoCarioca says:

“everybody” has power

GringoCarioca says:

ha ha ha . . . I’m not fooled

de-joaquinality says:

knock-knock

GringoCarioca says:

go away

de-joaquinality says:

knock-knock…

GringoCarioca says:

get out!

de-joaquinality says:

knock-knock

GringoCarioca says:

I have a gun

de-joaquinality says:

will you let a man tell a joke?

de-joaquinality says:

knock-knock

GringoCarioca says:

who is it?

de-joaquinality says:

banana

GringoCarioca says:

banana who?

de-joaquinality says:

knock-knock

GringoCarioca says:

what do you want you mudda . . .

de-joaquinality says:

knock-knock

de-joaquinality says:

let the man tell his joke!

de-joaquinality says:

knock-knock

GringoCarioca says:

WHO IS MUDDAFUCKIN there?

de-joaquinality says:

banana

GringoCarioca says:

banana who goddammit!

de-joaquinality says:

knock-knock

de-joaquinality says:

trust me, it’s almost there

de-joaquinality says:

knock-knock

GringoCarioca says:

who cares?

de-joaquinality says:

knock-knock

GringoCarioca says:

who’s there?

de-joaquinality says:

orange

GringoCarioca says:

orange who?

de-joaquinality says:

orange you glad I didn’t say banana?

You have just sent a Nudge!

GringoCarioca says:

de-joaquinality winks:

Play “Laugh”

GringoCarioca says:

bye-bye you anarchist you . . .

de-joaquinality says:

tears of laughter

de-joaquinality says:

I assume…

GringoCarioca says:

sweet dreams . . . oh wait, you already are dreaming!

de-joaquinality says:

I ass you me

de-joaquinality says:

lemme ass you this:

GringoCarioca says:

go wikipedia the word”dream” and change everything to signify “waking”

de-joaquinality says:

GringoCarioca says:

with that in mind . . .

GringoCarioca says:

good night

GringoCarioca says:

de-joaquinality says:

lave lun lin lalaland

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at as nails pace

Eduardo Ramos — Wed, 16 Nov 2005 02:16:00 +0000

This is a micronarrative I originally wrote for my friend Amy. I told it to Marco later, and since he liked it, I will leave it here and see who finds it.

The snails I knew

The snails I knew were on the mountain of Amiudal. This is where my father was born and where my aunts and uncles have homes today. My uncle Leo had a front yard with shrubberies and flowers. The snails would crawl up from the garden, onto the window ledges. There we would catch them, and put them on a flower pot to see their art of movement. Some years later, Leo got tired of mowing the lawn, so he filled it with stone and painted it green like cartoon grass. He is a very odd man, but loves me like a son. I still remember walking in on his bear-like naps, after an afternoon of chasing snails, to find him collapsed on the bed, clothed, as if he’d been shot by some great gun of sleep.

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