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Dada is an armadillo. Everything is Dada too. Beware of Dada. Dada is the world soul, dada is the pawnshop. Dada is the world's best lily-milk soap. Anti-dadaism is a disease: selfkleptomania, man's normal condition, is Dada. But the real dadas are against Dada. Dada has 391 different attitudes and colors according to the sex of the president. It changes affirms --says the opposite at the same time -- no importance -- shouts -- goes fishing. Dada is the chameleon of rapid and self-interested change. Dada is against the future. Dada is dead. Dada is absurd. Long live Dada. Dada is not a literary school, howl. Dada is the sun, dada is the egg, Dada is the Police of the Police. Dada is not at all modern. Dada is immobility and does not comprehend the passions. Dada is a state of mind. Like everything in life, Dada is useless. Dada is without pretension, as life should be. Perhaps you will understand me better when I tell you that Dada is a virgin microbe that penetrates with the insistence of air into all the spaces that reason has not been able to fill with words or conventions. |
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In general, it seems increasingly, acceleratingly apparent that Dada is the only art movement. But we cannot be content with that analysis: Everyone says that about their art movement, as their favorite pet, their darling baby girl, when in fact, all babies are repugnant and awful. In perpetually unraveling itself, Dada is building itself an ingeniously impregnable fortress as it furthers and heightens itself perpetually farther away from whatever it is against. Dada offers no solutions because it will not sink that low. If we had constructed Ubu as a precursor, a gluttonous indictment as every nihilistic/poetic tragicom might have been, what of Food&Shit? The Pataphysician is elemental in this non-jungle, recognizing his Nihil as non-reducible, not inducting. For a close reading (and always we can close our readings) compare [visual analyses] – Yet they have No Psychologies, are “Pre/Anti-Freudian” adaptations, characters, salt-licks. ---------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------------------------------- Of course, of course that they
would all have strayed, escaped, collapsed from that indectional tri-rection. [Whor
Que no puan I scribe in bewedio de the languediomas? They did. It is because I
do not have that ceaseless confidence, the burning self-assured superiority. I
hate myself in the wrong ways.] Tzara:: Gas Heart/Approximate Man - the crux of
a missing paraglyph within a play where the cheese-scraper stands as
its own head, as its own counter-. Nevertheless, Tzara's rouge extends subtleties, darlings, iambs
also towards incorporative history later, after that "chronological"
shift never towards izquierdizmo radikal (or was that even a distinction) in the
spanish civil war, france and france.'Floored he went commie; that guy was a sure anarchist, what was he thinking. Even the intellectuals suspect him. Yo k quiero ser muert' o,. I want to be very honest in my reading of Codrescu. I was deceived. Or was I deceived. It is easy for us young brash intellects to come into love, to be won with clever combinations or slippery words. Now I am in danger of being like him, writing like him, thinking, feeling, God! Hopefully I will be able to self-efface out of too much evil. A pop-novel, rehashing Peter Lamborn Wilson. By the Altazor's final Canto, Huidobre has enthroned us in the seat of illiteracy; he has Forgotten Us how to read, reduced language to babble. Was it Babylon after all? Is dada ever capable of an I love You? Copi's Loretta Strong; what delicious aepilepsy finally-gay delight, to paraphrase: i will not do it. Nevertheless, a copious bricolage, a menagerie cascades from my labial rift. Was dada even for a moment gay enough? Phallocentric enough? What am I trying to prove? "Don't give a fuck! Starve/Fast/dashdash secret medicine! Dick-enlargement self/society-critique they're all dead! Chaos" I want you to look at Hakim Bey, OK? & the No More Words book Also Ubuweb's mp3s, if that's still cool? Tzara's Hyperbola Of The Crocodile's Hairdresser & the Walking Stick Best is not to represent, to let speak for themselves, in: Manifestoes! ------------------------------------------- No. Finally there was the Genealogy. Where did it come from? Futurism, Cubism, Art Brut, Anarchism... and where did it go to? Surrealism, Punk, "Neo"Dada - really? Neo Dada is more interesting than Dada! Neo Dada Does not exist! Neo Dada is the Pope! Also it has chlymidia! Griel Marcus' enthralled historias occultadas know smwestra Those dadadadas sure would roll their tongues, too, but meaningless poetry based on concretized sound alone [or is it] can never bring us to the Divine! In fact, it is an obscure but hopeful diamond that could insert itself into a sentence to glimmer a sandpaper death on it. Sometimes I have something to offer. A bunch of anachronists are also doin' NEO. ---------------------------------------------- In fact, while this whole slobber came from a schooling with the wonderful Mr. O'Connor, its intentions are impure. I want to cut up, slice back together, wring my hands over the wickedness of my poor safe-haus mind: my infections are to offer a revised bitter Kindle to serve as the nexus of my own Masks. To distill. Goodnight. [do you really want to understand dada?] Other Friends: 1.Dada 2. Dada 3. Dada ---------------------------------------- |
