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:: Freakuency ::
A new outlet for work by Pynch Murkham (author of the texts 'Spasm-find: anomalabuilding for the micro-textured' and 'Snake voiced transistor twin' Both available on The amneoasm press, Chiba)

-------------Wednesday, August 04, 2004-------------
4:29 PM
dehydrated and sleep shrivelled waiting dreamer,
dawn across a thousand waking nights,
sped up ambient rhythm breaker,
black juice fingernails breaching crust to wind and light.
All these things are power ,
shared movements in untimely plural vortex of free orbit.
Dawn across each waking face inside the house of the unreal,
smiling scar tissue of a question,
animal sound, animal light - rhythm dance rhythmless.
The seductive intensity - gleaming there -
what is unconnected?
The howl disrepair?
even never is there - cobra fang of white fungi's eye,
sweet giving love of seeing - from it to one,
shadow grace of going, secret aging learning -
then vessel - combinant empty of conduit - empty conduit of empty,
reflection footfall of agreement everywhere -
danger walker pre-date and 'or' -
a moment's fear from time to time, a return empty to time.
Folly that art, that highest art -
Spindle - just to turn once more over needed -
Facing the dead alive once more,
Viding the slice greeting like stranger,
forgotten friend remembered.
Experience before experience,
the deeper the more silent.
Unvoiced grip - grip triggered by nerve equivalent -
level programme in motion,
unseen players, perceptive camouflage,
izate unreal,
skim driver gothic with boredom weapon.
Clockwork fullness over the laughing gas,
clutter in life, a million trillion modes of blind unpacking.
roads landing and taking off,
shriek again you pleasure you pain,
heart still beating somewhere in a vanished city, above a market place,
the quantity gamble of breeding -
unregistered flock and swine,
no leader beyond except the madman, speaking into a deaf wind, crushed by smooth talking vapour -
the tentacled machine, sit beneath a digit, ingesting permanent pregnancy of the stillness born freak and I.

Brave diver flying over all times.

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-------------Wednesday, September 10, 2003-------------
3:35 PM
So far from the past well well...
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-------------Monday, June 16, 2003-------------
4:17 PM
p.23-5 '...The sea snake of twisting meaning, the buoyant spin of environmental immersion, the length of helixical unknowing, the fragment of mirror reality shining through in schiz-drift tangential autonomy - the doubled the phased pace – the back upon itself – the undelineated – simul-place it dreams of its own beginning – a taile like all tales – the throbbing deeps – sliding, gliding its tips in breaths – a moving skin timed in effect – a repeated stabbing – particles solid in shafts of invasion dispersal – slower simul-speeds – faster potentials – hive intermittencies – pluraforming tributaries and land masses – ice breaking transmissions – logical dust on gale – sap and pearl – rhythms of transmotionco– Zero and nought – O- 0 - unidentifiable differences of sameness –lumbering creaking darting omnoform – illusive hypo – ai – ee- yu – ch - ' :::
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-------------Tuesday, June 10, 2003-------------
4:37 PM
Following text taken from 'the sabbah guide to real travel'

p. 11 '...Thoughts recently on yet more escape options. What if they lurk, like silver shoals beneath layer you are not aware of? Between sleep and wakefulness, this zone of emergence – what are the flickering edges that are experienced? feelings that are images, images that are feelings, mutant dreams of haunting resonance in shades of one pink or one brown or one shimmering blue?
also be sounds – like the pin point display of geometric sentience – the baroque laughter of the refrain.
What these are getting is the peeling of the real… the graveyard of sorcerous intent.
I had mind to think amongst the viruses… Other travelers – reality worms – that might eat through the code of the dominating all- consuming real – that might eat through the hard encrusted mantle of performative habit life-forms – the wiring of the interest – for all things are interested – be they direction, or outcome...'
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-------------Monday, April 28, 2003-------------
12:44 PM
p.0 ‘There are moments (and by saying this – there are always moments – they have never ceased to exist even before birth) – when you are soaked in a realisation… the realisation that you can be allowed from within the fucked and despicable case – a truth down a tunnel (shining like a light? Only a light and nothing else from back distant and black walls) – then that realisation is about your body – yes so affirmative – the stumbling, poised joy machine of explorations and exultations, but also that afflicted sleeping mass – the energy well of an extended body – but a leech strewn orifice – passing many channels from nothingness to substance through sheaths of the virtual, and you see in this moment (perhaps what you are permitted to see) the hordes – the sapping interference generated from who knows where – but the cyclical recurrence of events that never pass – of all the events that never pass – like flying gates all the time beside you to infinite directions – from all these events - to find and obsessively masturbate a moment of small death and its nest of killings upon your energy – this too is a machine – while you are blind it cannot be your machine except of pathetic wasting – but when the eye explodes – even from within that vector of endless sadness – then the Ghost of Chance / Ticket that Explodes is to hand – a ticket to a new machine - use these machines – wrestle within their moment of dominion (for this is all they understand) - there is an absolute war at that moment – and only in terms of species can it be understood… as species of one injected poison transmission among a multitude – but the cross referenced – refracted transmission of consumption, of swallowed lunch, of blindness – like waking to that hell-dream of life on the farm - the farm ruled by chameleon tyrants who you can never see but in flashes , and only then as flashes of your absolute horror – your unseeable demon – your demon mania- but this too is a machine –machine of alien dimension – ride that beam – for you have ridden a beam this far – you thought you controlled it – you did not – when you let go of that thought – when it slipped from your weary hand – that was when you made another step – towards the turn – the where between –
as Henry Miller says ‘I verify by flight’ & ‘I am the arrow of the dream’s substantiality’

p. 58 ‘…if we are dreams that dream – then this must be woken within us…’
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12:34 PM
p. 24 'In as much as you are suddenly aware of strategies within the spaces of your production < strategies of mutant happening > then you are also aware of the different species of effect - of stimulus - of catalytic dynamics - < this from the alien you have encountered - the next to encounter the alien will already meet a transformed transformation at another singular stage of contiuum... as have you >...
When you have broadened the view to include the expressive component of your production-alien - it is possible to enlist further - as Dr Fissure spaces through to Mcluhan - the organism can be coaxed out of its shell, with silence, space and cooling - this is a path of camouflaged subversion - tuning micro political wavelengths to unsettling invokings - to the alien -
Other species allied for the processes of intensification are more storm like – involve the same depth level elements (i.e relative speeds and motions < as rhythms, vibrations, pulses, waves > spaces, directions and the media itself with its own divisible dynamics and that of its symbiant transmissions)… these storm-like elements are expressive of forces that might offer alienation of normaloiac structures through their violence < it must be seen that what sustains damage is the crust – the familiar skin n bones – the paining in the first place – as was sensed by Schopenhauer – it is perhaps the only thing that can sustain damage – but does it stay in a recoverable position ? does it use its damage – its perpetual organic decrepitude - to ransom the intensive – or rather keep it separate from its extensive, actual bodies? >
< maintain its subjectified suffering > *

*The meeting of the subject with its own anti-venom is a necessarily timeless event < as the subject finds aeon to be thinly oxygenated > but there is mystery here – almost like the danger loving cosmonaut who blasts into deep space but never takes its eyes off Earth – we can chart the location of the subject following expeditions into its annihilation – but whether it is broadly speaking a complete absence – or a subsumption to its oceanic potentials – or whether the subject is a necessary compositional component in further developments < i.e. the Castaneda point of hanging on to reason the moment you are in danger of complete a-tonal drowning – maintaining the guard in its original guardian format – then you are talking about a mutated subject i.e. not a subject at all – but still its components will remain active in less repressive (valuable) formations >
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Aled Rees
London, UK

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