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The Museum of Vestigial Desire


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Dialog is always only partially heard. Besides the fragments that get spoken, there are volumes that volleyed in the head. The dialog in the head is more interesting, more fractious, more dangerous even. Because in that you will find the unfiltered, raw response to the madness around you. When you listen to yourself speak, you think that is the story that gets out and that is the story that matters. There is no crime in thought, no risk in letting idle fantasising becoming provocative and disruptive decisions. But it is not that simple. Your thoughts are being heard by everyone out there, they are heard loud and clear. They are heard not through subtle feedback systems like body language, which is simple to fake, but through these special devices called probes that operate mentally and are deployed like magic spells and charms. Now, you might not believe in magic and you might not believe in charm but that is how I am able to get into your head through your nostrils and have you spin to my tune. Your refusal to believe does not matter because I already transact with you through magic.

This magic of course takes biology into account and operates through our sensitivity of the array of the vibrating pulse of your skin. But beyond that our magic does not really have a method that can be described in great detail. Outside talk of method and documentation, we are eager to share details. How do we manage to hear the dialog in your head? How does the event of probing unravel? Ok, imagine yourself sitting there, talking to me cryptically. You see us staring at you, you think that we look like we are staring at some point even beyond you. But actually we are looking deep within you. We can see the brain cells inside your head frothing and fuming inside your head. From long periods of staring inside people's heads, we are now able to correlate patterns of cellular activity and words uttered aloud. Sometimes this correlation does not help as people are thinking and speaking different an altogether different set of things. So we also start doing poetic extrapolation between the shifting patterns in cellular activity that we see and the opaquely guarded groups of neighbouring cells. Poetic extrapolation of course needs the existence of a poet to work. Now, what is poetry? Poetry can be understood as the codex of language.

The seeds of the urge that allows words to co-inhabit a sentence together punctuated by syntax. Poetry of course is not a media, it is not a media, a form. Poetry is the volatile, the inflammatory set of words are are acidic and putrid enough for our psyche. Does it burn to read that poem? Great, because if it does, it is actually a poem. Poems are the only literary entities which hold within themselves a qualitative dimension, a criteria for functioning. And when we do poetic extrapolation, we are able to unravel everything. There are no secrets anymore. Like the WikiLeaks of the culture and psychic industries, we unbolt all doors and let all the dogs out. With graceful ease we access all secrets but only selectively reveal them to the wider world. This selection guards our menacing zeal, else we would only be engaged with a massive confrontation with the world-at-large.

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