Patrick Michael Ballard ENDBRINGER/PRESSING A FLOWER BETWEEN PLANES/HEAVEN AS HIGH AS THIS
Tasha Romano + Vanessa Shih Moss and Well
Amia YokoyamaDim Beam Simulcast
The theorists were tired, it had been another long night of waiting. Waiting in line somewhere along nine centuries of trying. The attempt was to solve the seemingly irreconcilable problem of The Holy Trinity. How could God be the Father and the Son and also the Holy Spirit?? They asked. How can God be a body and also not a body? How can One be One and also more than One? They asked.
The answers were made of perpetual negation. Every theorist that came up with a solution was promptly disproved by the next theorist, who in turn was disproved by the next and so it went on, and on. Yet on the small amplified platform in the short moment between negations, each theorist could express their idea and it would be accepted as Truth. And it felt good, it felt like God. They kept going.
As word spread and the line grew steadily longer, the waiting time increased to some unfathomable factor and the theorists grew bored and ashamed, because there was shame in the waiting. And so they built huge windowless waiting factories so that they would not be seen. Soon, more factories were built in order to organize to count and to document the waiting. And again more factories to form and to formalize the procedures and the laws of the waiting.
Law number one from the Book of The Laws of Waiting: Wait patiently until one is told to stop waiting.
The factories were rapidly running out of space and so new factories had to be built in order to document the running out of space, and to document the documentation of the running out of space. Through time new generations of theorists arrived with fresh lines of interest that formed into more lines of waiting and into new laws in the Book of The Laws of Waiting.
Negation became a new area of important enquiry for the theorists so they built new factories dedicated to the documentation of the negation, to the interpretation and the translation of the documentation of the negation.
Countless factories were built, proliferating endlessly outwards through the earth and through the mountains and through the minds of the theorists who were busy waiting and negating and documenting and interpreting and translating and trying. Factories were built on top of rivers, factories were built on top of factories. Everything gained. Things gained with vigorous momentum more and more particularity which had the contrary effect of ambiguation - many of the theorists no longer remembered why they were even waiting. What am I waiting for? They asked. And why have I been waiting for so many hundreds of years? New lines formed.
Inside the factories, entire mythologies and ideologies were assembled and dissembled and reassembled using the now patented system, Perpetual Negation (PN) TM.
“Try it, you might like it!” The infomercial man speaks through the television and into the living room of De Light Johnson. De Light is busy with her tapestry, a real live time visual transcription of her life - stitching as it happens. She figured at a certain point that this was the closest she could possibly get and so she keeps going. De Light puts her needle down and stands back to admire her own handywork, lately she has been depicting the weeds which are growing so abundantly around her home that they cover almost entirely each window. De Lights gardener Leon mysteriously stopped turning up 7 years ago, she guesses he went to join the long line of theorists but nobody knows. The weeds that surround De Lights home transmit deep unconscious systems of information into her dreams at night, she doesn’t know it yet but her tapestry will be fundamental in translating the coming paradigm to humanity, world peace. “unstoppable” says De Light as she picks up her needle and begins to embroider an image of herself standing back and admiring her own handywork under a halo of dandelions.
“Have you ever wondered what you are doing here?” The infomercial man blasts into the home of Leon. Leon lost the key to his gate 7 years ago and has been trapped inside his home ever since. He had the gate made extra tall as he was advised to do so by the gate company who were advised to do so by the neighborhood Crime Watch company. The gate was way too high to climb and way too robust to dissemble and so Leon quite quickly stopped trying. What he failed to notice was that the walls surrounding the gate were relatively easy to climb, not too hard at all, but the gate was so mesmerizing, it continued to promise the possibility of freedom.
- Nena Zinovieff
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“match the paint to the red on my nails!”
Bathing your slime girl in the sink
slip off the paper underneath each stitch
The love I feel for Sloopy is so overspilling its soaking to an unbearable tired of trying to pay the unpayable
Sloopy is so exhausted she can’t talk can’t bump delicious between l and k
Plastic talk
Im collapsing asking her to reiterate
Frustrated I demand efficiancy in stinging tones
Re silly puttyfing it at every sigh side glare roll
Love is an encounter leading to a meltdown
And when i think of paying you back for holding my puddle I drip to weep
You decline my placement thought and a line is drawn between us
your own pleasure
I beg you to include the tiles
It’s your choice ultimately
But i still believe in our vital alliance
You want a glossary. I love the word glossary!
We also comply this piece is for The Look
Friendship a root to freedom
Incrementing the timetable cells of the individual
The desire for an unknown duration
Able to assemble diligence that senses itself as needless to money making
sewing is suspended by sweet tooths
munching carpet you directly dash us towards
luxury living microbiome culture sundaes
Spoiled by each effervescent spoonful
tastes like destiny
that can loose us in its thickness
Form giving pleasures of the content economy
Intertextualising a social space
It’s not the font’s added glow, it’s the kind of union
It’s the thing that happens while you’re dipping dandelions in porcelain
Undo buttons you pause to compliment my cleanliness
and baptize me Clinique Cottonelle
To be unreconstructed about rebuilding
Delete digits with white out (liquid paper for office nerds)
Details dump foam flakes
On the mish mash floor
wrapped the wall in sync
Kitty keeps beckoning uncut devotion
stitches wait to landscape an eternity of waves boiling into volcanoes patterning clouds flaming to swim in heaven.
Policy can’t see the blinding beam of this dim enlightenment.
- Suavitel Paper
Dennis Buck Proposal for a Self Referential Book
Anne GuroRule of a High Priest Vol. 1
I
Before the crust of the loam was cool enough to crawl upon, it was a molten mass, shaped by its own spinning heat. From the pools of primordial recesses, canyons, and crevices, crawled the unknown and the other—each appendage emerging was a pulse of new form; new variations in the unceasing sputtering of a world’s imagination giving life and limb where circumstance required it. There it was—a writhing mass of every possible body ever conceived, churning in space, producing and consuming itself in infinitum. Careening eons long enough, the sputtering made a creature that called itself distinct. The Creature made lines in the world that the ones with tails and claws and shells couldn’t see. So was born the First Abstraction.
II
After the lines were made, it began organizing the world as it needed, taking in all that it was and all that it wasn’t. The lines it made tore skin from bone, and branch from tree; they sharpened rocks to make limbs that it wanted but could not posses. It fashioned shells that could shelter it and its kin from the others, and stole the skin of other creatures to keep itself warm. The lines let it see the things that it wanted from the world, isolate them, and separate them. It roved through wild time, collecting essence of other life, becoming an amalgam of all it absorbed. It forged, from its own molten-mind, sputtering mouth frames to make the sacred lines into shapes; secrets that only the Creature could understand and trace with its tongue. This was called True Shape. With True Shape, it created a new but immaterial body; the body of its own belief. This new body allowed it to refine the lines and build a lattice over all it could not control. So was born the Second Abstraction.
III
When the lattice became form, The Creature sought solace in its own image. It created image after image of itself until it betrayed the many selves that it had been. The velocity of its own reflection made timid the world around it. Soon, it began to imagine itself beyond its body, and rearrange the world to prove it could see itself to others. The Creature began to split its existence amongst the many images of itself it had made, and build houses to harvest these many selves. As it could only see all of it’s world as an extension of itself, it dredged from the oceans of its blood, and reaped body after body from its own knowing. A whirling lattice of frenetic pulse gripped the world through its eyes, and from its mind, it began to make itself again from scratch. So was born the Third Abstraction. -Patrick Michael Ballard
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Jesse Clark and Elias Pack Resonance
