Post-Foucault
"Nothing runs to plan. The future's already assembled, but not by design. Sub-bass materialist concurrence emerging out of order. -it's metrophage rush hour and you've lost the plot. organs flicking out into grubby dataspace, mtv'd on synthetix tactics tag…
"Jungle technics severs the cereberal core-texts from their spinal columns of support and cuts copyright adrift from its feudal docking station. Libraries burning in Babylon. Knowledge is decoded from its proprietary grid of occult encryption. The academy in flames. Possessed personal information transmutes into dispossessed impersonal data: sampled, stretched and layered into freeware.
Jungle rewinds and reloads conventional time into silicon blips of speed and slowness that combust the slag-heaps of historical carbon-dating. The past is passed, left behind in a museum case of oedipal mumies belching dust and warnings of ôrevolutionary heritageö. The eternally deferred eschatologies of the left are consigned to the white trash-can of the future and leave a present tense with synthetic possibilites. Between the vertical of retrospective sedimentation and the horizontal of never-coming contradictory crises, jungle finds a diagonal that flees the ossified relics of the dialectic. Synthetic rhythms junk progressive-linear temporality: samplers make time for the future.
Jungle as a space dislocator, destratifying cities snarled in an arcane surveillance apparatus. An operating system opening an invisible and acephalic matrix traversed by cars geared by bassomatic transmissions and orbited by nomadic satellites of clubs, clandestine studios and the black economies of dub plates and mix tapes.
Don't get into a false sense of security. It's not just music. Jungle is the abstract diagram of planetary inhuman becoming. Dread out of control. A post-spectacular immersive tactility that no humanist vision can put you in touch with. Smiling Californian cyberoptimism is as grotesquely archaic as scowling aryan Europessimism."
~CCRU; Swarmachines
Jungle rewinds and reloads conventional time into silicon blips of speed and slowness that combust the slag-heaps of historical carbon-dating. The past is passed, left behind in a museum case of oedipal mumies belching dust and warnings of ôrevolutionary heritageö. The eternally deferred eschatologies of the left are consigned to the white trash-can of the future and leave a present tense with synthetic possibilites. Between the vertical of retrospective sedimentation and the horizontal of never-coming contradictory crises, jungle finds a diagonal that flees the ossified relics of the dialectic. Synthetic rhythms junk progressive-linear temporality: samplers make time for the future.
Jungle as a space dislocator, destratifying cities snarled in an arcane surveillance apparatus. An operating system opening an invisible and acephalic matrix traversed by cars geared by bassomatic transmissions and orbited by nomadic satellites of clubs, clandestine studios and the black economies of dub plates and mix tapes.
Don't get into a false sense of security. It's not just music. Jungle is the abstract diagram of planetary inhuman becoming. Dread out of control. A post-spectacular immersive tactility that no humanist vision can put you in touch with. Smiling Californian cyberoptimism is as grotesquely archaic as scowling aryan Europessimism."
~CCRU; Swarmachines
❤7
Georges Bataille truly was right
the Anus is the most virulent and masculine part of the human body.
the Anus is the most virulent and masculine part of the human body.
❤15