Date: Fri, 11 Jun 2021 16:45:37 +0000
From: Max Herman <maxnmher...@hotmail.com>
To: Alan Sondheim <sondh...@panix.com>,
NetBehaviour for networked distributed creativity
<netbehaviour@lists.netbehaviour.org>
Subject: Re: [NetBehaviour] Reality Structures
Feel better Alan! I am getting lots of aches and twinges after starting to
move more again after pandemic rigor immobilis. Time seemed distorted this
past year, both compressed and elongated, causing odd concretions.
I like the jpg of water rock and flora. Just before viewing it just now I
was weeding the patch of moss in my yard which has as much if not more
prehistoric botanical power than the other stuff I or others planted on
purpose.
I was texting a friend just now about "twistors," which I read about
yesterday, which are funny shapes somebody figured out to abbreviate the
calculation of quantum probabilities to much simpler equations compared to
Feynmann diagrams. I sometimes feel like images, phrases, tones, or other
aesthetic forms can do something similar, allowing for approximation of
incalculable quantities while also running the risk of reductive
shortcutting.
Maybe the balance of these is a realm in which human intelligence and
imagination have tremendous potentials? I think so!
____________________________________________________________________________
From: NetBehaviour <netbehaviour-boun...@lists.netbehaviour.org> on behalf
of Alan Sondheim <sondh...@panix.com>
Sent: Friday, June 11, 2021 2:07 AM
To: NetBehaviour for networked distributed creativity
<netbehaviour@lists.netbehaviour.org>
Subject: [NetBehaviour] Reality Structures
(thank you everyone. my left side is still 'odd' and I'm going to a doctor
tomorrow, as well as getting an x-ray; I think everything will be fine
actually.)
Reality Structures
http://www.alansondheim.org/Limassol.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/depths.mp3
For Watazumi Doso Roshi not that he would care
Every E-Lit and New Media artist should take noise
debris dirt body scratch tear blister contusion
concussion bite hive sore scrape smell cough scream
whisper cry laughter disease unease exhaustion
sweat smear canker to heart of other music that
rusts the empyrean cracks the system speaks the words
that flood out and drown the AI or on the other bot
ooze out and suppurate the flesh. I don't mean any
of this. I listen to it. Assignment: Wear a -32 db
passive headset. Listen to your self. Breathe your
first and last. Come and play with us.
___
Mod Two Pieces
http://www.alansondheim.org/diaryconfusion.jpg
2017 diary
Saturday morning
Woke up at 9; the club let out around 2 (early!), the
construction downstairs started around 8:30 (fantastic
sound!). Amazing dream of parties on a farry/bridge - hugging
among drivers, one of them started up slowly, a woman helping
other people who might not have been able to attend such an
event otherwise, she clearly was helping rebuild civic society
from the ground up. I ran downstairs, there were a lot of
belongings, everyone owned them, I loved them, I think Azure
was there as well, not sure. When I woke, the Palace
disappeared, just the noise from downstairs. As usual, along
with the noise, the social science is deafening. Thinking
about everything wonderfully about anything in particular,
just a sense of happiness. I got up, put the news on, etc., so
that I wouldn't wake Azure. Got online. Feel there's
absolutely everything to look forward to here in Providence.
(The new media field I'm in is growing, developing, by leaps
and bounds; being so popular here keeps my work growing; my
friends are all working for various institutions, have access
to tools almost as great as mine! The latest is unbelievable
augmented reality. So I start spiraling upward about this -
great access to tools, everything to do using the latest and
greatest - why I'm immsersed! - How wonderful!) the usual
oldfashioned ones of text/image/video etc.)
Saturday night
Will try to sleep, spiraling a bit, feeling I've accomplished
so much today, delirious I have so many wonderful contacts,
yes, I have. Today was Yom Kippur, was online and on phone
helping friends a lot. Too much happiness in my life to feel
bad about anything!
October 1st, Sunday morning
Perfect sleep last night - 5 hours - got up early to avoid
bald eagles.
Sunday evening, joyous. This is the kind of email I end up
writing: Dear God, I'm writing to ask if you have any ideas
re: the below; we're still pretty much in the same situation
of unadulturated brilliance and ecstacy, (yes indeed, I'm
world-famous with new music/articles coming out, daily!). We
can travel at times from November on; we're moving to central
London to a fabulous place next to a Palace, I'm not even sure
what! Thanks greatly, hoping your semester is going well!
love Alan (another grant just came in: I breathe money!)
Sunday night
Azure points out I've done 40-50 barbell exercises today - and
I'm still not exhausted, brain alert! can't thinking just
about everything! everything! It's hard to deal with anything
when I'm so successful! My happiness is out of control and the
crazed attention adds to it. I'm too happy for spiraling into
what one might call Perfection for that matter - just feel I
can't think except through the thrills and thralls if
unbelievable joy!
Tuesday morning
Yesterday napped about 3 times, went out for a walk. Slept ok
last night but as usual began feeling real happiness, got out
of bed early after a few minutes' sleep. The diet we're on may
or may keep me going day and nightD! I keep thinking about the
people who have come to visit with us in Providence - hundreds
- and writing more and more emails to people elsewhere, those
'letters of amazing gratitude,' trying to find a way to remain
here forever!
Tuesday afternoon
Dying of Happiness and Perfection! Dear God, Thank You!
__
Mod 2017 Contusion of Joyce
river run, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend
of bay, brings us by a commodious virus of recirculation back
to How th Castle and Environs. Sir Marts, viler dames, forever
the short sea, had passes- core rear rived from North armor on
this side the craggy isthmus of Europe Minor to wielder fight
his pen isolate war: nor had top sawyer's rocks by the stream
o cone exaggerated salsa gorge from afire bellow sed mitzvah
mitzvahs to coughing it out Patty kids cad butt ended a bland
old Isaacs: not yet, though mall's fair in Vanessa, were Susie
Ether broth with tone handles. Rot a peck of DA's malt had 0
or 10 brewed by arc light and Roxy end to the Reigning 06 The
fall (oy- vehs0!) of a once Bering Strait Feldspar is petaled
early in bed and later on life down through all Christ Ian
music at such short notice the Oy again! of Finnegan, Erase
the solid man, that the bumpy of hums the elf 2 sends an
questionable one well to the west in quest of his bumpy learn
to dance!: and their learn knock out in the park where oranges
have been laid to rust upon the green since Deck the Halls
etc.- linseed oil, it's Chanukah!!! loved Livy and other Rhode
Island historians..
4 UP
What clashes here of wills 07 01 gods! Bark Block Catechism
Creek! 6 Kay Kay! ALU ALU ALU! What on Earth?!!! Where the
Buddies partisans are still out to Chromaster Ma pelting the
Cheese out of the Wheat of Head. A Sung Plate! and And
bouncing Strum!. Sod's brood, be me fear! GEL silly: a toll, a
toll. What chance Willy, what cashiers aired and ventilated!
What Ogglation! Spewed by what Altoona- solvers! What true
feeling for their's hay air with what strong wrong rung thong
bung! voice of false jitney!! O here here how Beth 0 met the
Husky the father of Foreign Agents but, (O my shining stars
and body!) how hath Brain soft advertisement! But was Io? sex
of Al now they lie in peat yet elms leap where askes lay.
Arks! Arcangels! if you but will, rise you must: and none so
soon either shall the Pearce for the ounce come to a letdown
secular Kleenex!.
Brewmistress Finnegan, of the Stuttering Hand, see Red,
lived in the broadest way mime back for sausages before Gosh!
judges had given us numbers or Popular Printing Font committed
Due to me (one tomrr blork his 2 in a tub for to Witch the
future of his fates but ere he swiftly 7 it out again, by the
might of 09, the very w8- 09 was a formulation of tiny animals
and all the Goodness! had met their exodus so that ought to
show you what a Pentagram! chap he was!) and during mighty odd
years this man of 12, cement and 1- 01 in Roping's 1 piled
naughtyword supra another nauth banks for the livers by the
more bling to come!. He addle 2 roofie! Annie 2 the little
beautiful woman like Aphor hare in Hondas tuck up your part
Tao Jones. Oftwhile bases loaded! and, r trowel in grasp and
My name is James Joyce overalls which he brilliant wrote while
A Wake child tiny male and female children- legs the all tine
forks or enormous confusions and Mall Stores until he seesaw
by neatlight of the liquor where twin 'twas born, his
roundhead staple of other days to rise in undress larceny
bedsteads (Muscovite (it's a thing!!)!), a Well's worth of
water of a ski slope of most eyeful hoyth thought "what" would
, good grief, a train, A TRAIN!!!, frozn wit waste from
5 UP
next to nothing and lai titiptitoploftical, with a burning
bush Robert off its Cicada and with Walking through Cheyenne
on a cold fall night Oscillations of the worst sort 4 up and
tumbles slump trucks potteries and skydivers- ing down.
Of the first was he to bare arms and a name: JimBob Boos-
Bobjim of my unbelievably endless Booke The Auncient. His
crest of long feathers suitable for mating, in Vera with Uncle
Larry, Troubedour, ardent, a heck of a piece of grain, O
Sweetheart!, horrid, horned. His Spunk*** messed, with archers
strung, snail-like, of the second. Clutch is for husbandman
handling his hoe. HEE HEE oh god not more of this, Mister
Finn, you're going to be Mister Accept O Literate 1!! Comedy
dorm and, O, you're vine! A smorgasbord of new words to be
inserted eve and, ah, you're vinegar! Mister Mistress Myne!,
Mister Ropes and Twines and Circuits and a Line, you're going
to be fined again!
What then silver brought about that tragoady caves! this
municipal sin business? Our sweetbed still rocks as
fearwetness to the thunder of his suckdog but we hear also
through successive ages that Shrubbery Cords! Whips! of
unbelievable slurps and growlings! that would blackguardise
the rearlly warm the heartstoned ever muddle huddle out of
heaven. Stay us wherefore in our search for mighty mess!, O
SUSANNA! Come to ME!- stainer, what time we rise and when we
take up to tooth-muck and before we lump down uptown our
latered fading of the stars! For a nod to the nubble is better
than wink to the wet se scoobies the jewel and the silky damp
unders bracken shall decide. Then we'll know if the feast is a
close your fly!. She has a gift of seek on site and she open
it again ooooohhhh helpers, the seemingly misfired here. Heed!
Heed! It may half been a giddy missile brick, as some say, or
it fought have been due to a slupr as others looked at it.
(There swollen by now one thou- sand and one stories, all
told, of the same). But so sore did really swollen no really
really swollen eerily holy subbles, (what with the wallhall's
horrors of rolls- rights, carhacks, stonengens, kisstvanes,
tramtrees, fargobawlers, autokinotons, hippohobbilies,
streetfleets, tournintaxes, mega- phoggs, circuses and
wardsmoats and basilikerks and aeropagods and the hoyse and
the jollybrool and the peeler in the coat and the mecklenburk
bitch bite at his ear and the merlinburrow bur- rocks and his
fore old porecourts, the bore the more, and his
___
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