Didac writes gently and poetically on distortion in Timbuktu, en español. i’ll find time to translate this.
From Iowa (an equally exotic location), Anne distorts gentlemanly poetics and launches a thought-raft into the future, the grubby future //
A few days ago, Turkish friends in Berlin shared 6 gigabytes (!) of carefully selected Turkish & Balkan music with me. The hard drive folder was labeled For Repture by a guy whose name I couldn’t spell, either. Cross the Bosphorus, letters slip.
might as well dive in… with badass saz player Arif SaÄŸ. Here’s some breathtaking youtubery. The stately saz incandescently played on a prosaically irreal stage-set as the TV screen clocks Istanbul’s unchanging temp.:
the saz already resonates with telltale metallic soul. Plug it in, amplify — fx pedals optional — and you’ve got electro saz.
Arif SaÄŸ – Bahi Sabah from the Lambaya Puf De CD
NOTE the little blue arrow-thingy!! You can now use this Flash-player to preview MP3s before downloading.
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good apocalypse media theory (the sheep look up):
The idea that the poem of the future is a poem written by a programmer with her machine is an extension of the fantasy of the eternal life of the ephemeral stuff of first world living: fossil fuels, reliable power grids, stable climatic conditions, liberal democracies.
The poems of the future are more likely to be carved into junk-plastic rafts by refugees fleeing viral epidemics on wasted seas.
For my poem of the future I plan to lay out a pattern of trashed computer monitors, creating a pixellated vision of a poem from broken/not broken screens, and as the wealthy flee plagues and terrorist attacks in their private airplanes they can see this poem of the future from the sky they own.
Programmers and their machines do not create the poems of the future, they create the poems of the present. This might also be said of the lesser poetic technologists, those who google sculpt or employ social software for generative results, those who work in flash or code or photoshop or garageband.
-Boyer, Odalisqued
when the sheep look up it is incredibly eerie. the more sheep, the eerier.