An infectious anomaly. Doing as Being. Going All The Way In. A thorn in the flanks of ghandian discursivity: “be-the-change-you-want-to-seem” or nihilist anarchism as an integral Now leering darkly at the ingrown hair of meaningfully logocentered Facts… the eternally returning realization that we have been on the losing team for centuries and the only way forward is Down. Effusive Dogmatic Lowing. Brandishing filth as a charm against the precarity of violent half-truths, entering into the language of objects’ silent speech. ripping open fields of cloaca in reality/physics politics/ontology. rupture into doom bringing. visionary glow to how the past could have been. Nightmare Philosophy of Impossible Deaths: As/If/Of/With.
By hook and crook – the details of which, though blurry and opaque, i am happy to detail to those who wish to hear them – i have departed from the Brooklyn thrift store i was in for seven months, and both in absence of desire and in lieu of a slurry of emotional maelstroms, i took the (albeit somewhat forced but also invited) decision to build a new cart and live largely with it for a few weeks in the street, doing little micro residencies along the way. the new cart is much more productive and much less of a finished work than the last, it is a thing-in-motion, growing shrinking as changing along the way at the mercy of a meteorological god that can’t seem to make up its mind whether to storm or burn, leaving a wake of sopping, splintering detritus.
This is by some measure the fourth it-eration of shopping-cart related installation objects (the first being the nomad rhizome project, the second building a world, and the third the performance cart) and many of the themes remain the same: nihilist wizards hacking at thermodynamic social reality, the idiot hero, Sisyphus, homelessness, pile art, garbage against the found, etc. It is also of course a redaction and forced “bringing” of the theory of garbage installation-Manifesto Against Recycling and Found Objects to the street, for which i do have text theory printouts, but am enacting in as a more present, active, physical life-way. After the first week, there is still comparatively little footage of the project, but i have embedded what little i have been able to dig up here. More To Come Soon. Ive to Hit The Streets.
“This is Ontology, not Politics” || “Let’s Make Some Openings” || “Against Reality::Society”
ABOUT THE URINE: As many of you know, when my old squat Koala Haus in New Orleans declared independence from the United States of America back in 2010, one of the first necessities was some semblance of a liquid economy for exchange and trade interactions with the outside world. Shortly had the quandary arisen, than Eymeric declared me the Koala Haus Dairy, that my own liquid excretions would be used thereafter as currency for our new micronation (which, hither-towards without plumbing, had already accumulated no small amount of latrinic bottles). In the intervening years, the original premises have been bulldozed along with all our monetary reserves, but on not a few occasions I have spearheaded revivals of an economy in exile (at least one of which moments in Argentina came to an abrupt halt with several caustic explosions of ammonia and shattering glass – word to the wise: do not store your pee in glass), but few as comprehensive as the recent 75 plus litre accumulation, which rivals if not exceeds my own body weight. All of this is to say, that for most of yesterday I was pulling around a cart filled with different sized bottles of my Juice, attempting to sell it to passers by as an indictment of the money system. I did not make too many sales. But we do have several hours of video of my pitches.