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Interface Issue 07

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Published in 
Interface
 · 26 Apr 2019

  

[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.

**************************************************************************

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---------------------
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***************************************************************************
===========================================================================

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have been replaced
By copper.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]
***************************************************************************

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