Wednesday 27 January 2010

Is it time for the Sixth Republic?

'....there is no reason that the interminable subsidies that numerous relatives are compelled to offload onto their proletarianized progeny can't become a form of patronage in favour of socialsubversion. 'Becoming autonomous' could just as easily mean learning to fight in the street, to occupy empty houses, to cease working, to love each other madly, and to shoplift.'

An extract from 'The Coming Insurrection' by The Invisible Committee.

A small blue book as a call to action. At times naive, confused and hopelessly utopian, at others concise, energising, inspiring and able to hit the target effortlessly, it is above all, and for all it's faults, utterly uplifting.

Monday 18 January 2010

2010- Shouldn't there be robots?

New year new decade new trousers.

But no robots. Yet.

What we need is the definitive book for the unwary. Meanwhile, there are fractures of prose and soul photography.

Wherever lies the lure of the underground
the impasse of a studded velvet glove
cupping your chin
you want you want you want
but you hold apprehension as if it were
a fragile gift
joy sourced free of morality
the harvester of love
the tiller of souls.

The gods of old have gone into hiding but we suspect they are asleep rather than dead to us forever. And be assured, the soul of Ulysses is kept safe in a stasis of permanent glory by their side, ready to be released into our faltering, moribund world by the gentle tilt of of it's holding, golden flask, as soon they they are awakened by the corrupt trumpet call of a people too lost in chaos.

That day may be close. The Invisible Committee has told us that as clearly as it dares, in The Coming Insurrection. The battle cry has gone up in the communes of France and across Europe; censorship has failed and from the chaos will come the radiance of equality and the slaying of feudal, neo-liberal capitalism.

The charge will be lead by Asclepius with Sophicles by his side, armoured in the glow of a thousand stars at the time a nanosecond after nova, at that time when in its own death throes, a star can light up the sky of a million planets and affect tens of thousand of civilisations.

T Pyxilis may have already gone supernova- are it's gamma rays at this very moment hurtling towards us, with only the laws of Einstein buffering us from eventual annihilation?

Meanwhile, we believe the new on-line journal Wordflute may soon materialise. We will keep you posted. An interview with Mark Reed is scheduled to appear in the first issue and we may post an extract of it soon, if we feel you have all misbehaved enough to warrant such indulgence.

Reading through Tom Sleigh's collection of poems 'Space Walk,' yet again, we have been struck by the clarity and emotional resonance of his work and how the unexpected can inform a particular moment in time.

In 'Afterlife,' the narrator ruminates on a failed relationship in the bathroom of a restaurant whilst his partner waits back at the table; the bathroom is full of the stink of someone in a cubicle having a shit. It seems a rather poignant atmosphere for him at that juncture in his day.

Absolute genius.