"Before peace breaks out with France" is a line from 2003's Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World, a film that does not lend itself to be written about in any way more than "I watched it". Perhaps the best thing to be gained from the film is that it signaled that Americans were in another cycle of high sea adventure fancy. Maybe it symbolizes something about our world, we can’t really imagine a world with peace, and even if we did we would not want it. It’s April 7th today, yesterday I had dental work done, I tried to write in my journal about it but it was too much work. It’s warm and sad today, the sounds of the suburbs and the sun beaming down on me. When I was drugged I thought about Being and being and the life of the mind, drugs always give me something. I never like that something, I thought about res nullius, the thing no one studies but everyone in academia writes about. The dental drugs gave me something, lack of love towards my girlfriend, it will fade in a few days, this happens with everyone, I love humanity and being, but I am unable to love individual beings at times. It’s a boredom with everything, a bored anger at myself. This essay is supposed to be about war and about peace.
There’s a sense I get sometimes, of being at presence. Where it is reflective upon myself and the world, breaking past the that-which-is. That’s what poetry does, poetics break past the that-which-is, a collection of sigils, signs, and symbols that work as an interface, an image with no depth. I’m half watching a music video for a song mentioned in Hello Mr. Car by Chat. Jean Leloup - La Vallée Des Réputations. valise et voiture en la vidéo. Chat is one of the few good poets alive today. Nya understands that “Without music, or an intriguing idea, color becomes pallor” to quote Poe being quoted in an Alan Parson Project song. Chat does all that Poe talks about. Nyan’s car becomes both almost lover and almost murderer, art that can be only truly enjoyed when you understand Chat’s love of Laura Les and music that most would consider low art. Chat’s poetics, and it is poetics as much as nya would dislike being called a poet, breaks through the that-which-is. “I just want to get nearly hit by you , mr. car, flirt with you, flirt with death.” screams the thing of our age, the thing that many of us deny Chat declares outloud, we all want to flirt with death. We are in an era of a lust for death, I have not read Beyond The Pleasure Principle yet, I swear I sweaer I will but this lust isn’t like the death drive, this not only has an eros to it but it is an overflowing of eros. A love of ourselves, that gives rise to this tiny logic, The INSIDE, “I am Being and I love to be within the world, I fear my end, If there is no Other than there will be no end for me, thus the Other must die”. Of course the trouble is that the brain is not just our self, it contains the Other within itself, it has things out of our control, the brain is not the self, the mind is not the self. Someone once in a plural system told me about how they liked I recognized that the self wasn’t static, they said that if the right event any-body could become some-ones. “I want to run over everyone I hate with monsieur voiture” is part of the mind that bleeds into my self. The logic of The INSIDE is what blooms the bad things of our civilizations. Chat’s works can be like drugs, they can bring me to at presence, a thing that people rarely feel, what I felt the day after I read Merleau-Ponty’s World Of Perception. The day I took a walk without music and felt the spring and saw all the things. The poetics of Chat doesn’t bring me to this at presence, nyan’s writing instead brings me to the hours long moment of scattered memories of being in a car crash. I think the only way you can read Chat’s work and understand what nya means is to be at a rave, to be drugged and to be sad as the music roars. Chat’s work I feel like I should hate,
“highways spanning from the kulturkore into suburbz and faktories as the wizard city-builder watches from his tower , creating spectacular tantakular appendices going from the city into flesh / the kapitalist kapital of kapital pumps blood from the city to the burb to the sewer to the city , vessel of hate closed like a cocoon - the stasis of the civilized machine is so obvious / in all of this, as i watch, I realize that I am a virus man - a pathological man - inside out man - i drove the kife from the area above my dick to the back of my neck , i will do it to you , the other one- we will create some sort of arrangement , - or get rejected by the white globules / / dis(INTEGRATING) a barbaric machine into a pastorial empire”
read (red) as mememe (100 gecs) plays feels like seeing the nuclear bombs flying overhead. It is not work that is like the beauty of spring, nyan’s work breaks through the that-which-is to show you the techno-hegemony world, the works say what Lewis Mumford couldn't bring himself to say. In an era where everyone says they hope only for peace, Chat’s work that not only admits the lust for death and The INSIDE feels refreshing in a way. For me, one who wishes only to lay in the sun with my girlfriend seeing the world Chat sees helps me understand The INSIDE and the gore of the world and how we can perhaps move past this gorey war. Chat’s work I cannot but help admire and love, it is one of the few things that feels fresh and like it isn’t pretending, it says “before peace breaks out” and lets us know that in some ways this is an age that doesn't want peace to break out, many wish only to flirt with death.
bonsoir monsieur voiture. bonsoir monsieur voiture. bonsoir.