Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Lion In Zion

p.p. (post post): thanks for this one.


On May 16th 1968, art students, painters from outside the university and striking workers decided to permanently occupy the Ecole des Beaux Arts in order to produce posters that would, "Give concrete support to the great movement of the workers on strike who are occupying their factories in defiance of the Gaullist government."
The posters of the ATELIER POPULAIRE were designed and printed anonymously and were distributed for free. They were seen on the barricades, carried in demonstrations and were plastered on walls all over France. Their bold and provocative messages were extremely influential and still resonate in our own time.
Statement by the ATELIER POPULAIRE:
"The posters produced by the ATELIER POPULAIRE are weapons in the service of the struggle and are an inseparable part of it.
Their rightful place is in the centers of conflict, that is to say, in the streets and on the walls of the factories.
To use them for decorative purposes, to display them in bourgeois places of culture or to consider them as objects of aesthetic interest is to impair both their function and their effect.
This is why the ATELIER POPULAIRE has always refused to put them on sale. Even to keep them as historical evidence of a certain stage in the struggle is a betrayal, for the struggle itself is of such primary importance that the position of an "outside" observer is a fiction which inevitably plays into the hands of the ruling class.
That is why these works should not be taken as the final outcome of an experience, but as an inducement for finding, through contact with the masses, new levels of action, both on the cultural and the political plane."



MADRID, 2.30H.

LISBOA, 19.00H.

BERLIN, 3.56H.




Não há tempo

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Not Of This...


"I suggest that it is much more useful to try to make a kind of geometric model of consciousness, to take seriously the idea of a parallel continuum, and to say that the mind and the body are embedded in the dream and the dream is a higher-order spatial dimension. In sleep, one is released into the real world, of which the world of waking is only the surface in a very literal geometric sense.
All information is everywhere. Information that is not here is nowhere. Information stands outside of historical time in a kind of eternity - an eternity that does not have a temporal existence, not even the kind of temporal existence about which one may say, "It always existed." It does not have temporal duration of any sort. It is eternity. We are not primarily biological, with mind emerging as a kind of iridescence, a kind of epiphenomenon at the higher levels of organization of biology. We are hyperspatial objects of some sort that cast a shadow into matter. The shadow in matter is our physical organism."

Terence McKenna, New Maps of Hyperspace

Black Sunshine


rain forms when separate drops of water fall to the earth's surface from clouds. not all rain reaches the surface, however; some evaporates while falling through dry air.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Black Sun


Architecture is the simplest means of articulating time and space, of modulating reality, of engendering dreams. It is a matter not only of plastic articulation and modulation expressing an ephemeral beauty, but of a modulation producing influences in accordance with the eternal spectrum of human desires and the progress in realizing them.
The architecture of tomorrow will be a means of modifying present conceptions of time and space. It will be a means of knowledge and a means of action.
Formulary for a New Urbanism, by Ivan Chtcheglov

Tuesday, October 17, 2006


Where The Dead Live

"There is a world beyond ours, a world that is far away, nearby, and invisible. And there is where God lives, where the dead live, the spirits and the saints, a world where everything has already happened and everything is known. That world talks. It has a language of its own. I report what it says. The sacred mushroom takes me by the hand and brings me to the world where everything is known. It is they, the sacred mushrooms, that speak in a way I can understand. I ask them and they answer me. When I return from the trip that I have taken with them, I tell what they have told me and what they have shown me."

Maria Sabina, Mazatec Shaman

Memory Hole

Work Of Art

Let's talk of a system that transforms all the social organisms into a work of art, in which the entire process of work is included... something in which the principle of production and consumption takes on a form of quality. It's a Gigantic project.
Joseph Beuys


O Mesmo

são tudo exercícios sobre o mesmo, não vês? ... é o eco do eco. um espelho diante de um espelho. um reflexo de um reflexo; é a manipulação (quase obsessiva) das mesmas formas; é um ensaio interminável sobre o mesmo. sobre as mesmas coisas. uma espécie de estética da exaustão em que me esqueço do quanto é excessivo aquilo que é excessivo. ou então são, talvez, formas diferentes de fazer o mesmo.

Monday, October 16, 2006



esquecer-me-ia, se pudesse, dos dias em que escutávamos Parker no quarto desabitado. das garrafas vazias, dos anéis de fumo branco, do cheiro da tua roupa. esquecer-me-ia, se pudesse, do quanto passavam devagar as horas nocturnas, do silêncio da casa fechada, da ausência das palavras. das grandes janelas, dos cortinados, do frio, da cama desfeita, … do desenho do teu corpo no lume brando da meia luz. dos gestos lentos e premeditados, quase cinematográficos, quando acendias um cigarro. se pudesse não me lembrar, esquecer-me-ia desses dias sem sol, sem nuvens, sem nada, virgulados apenas por Parker a rodar incessantemente a trinta e três rotações por minuto no velho gira discos.



é a cinza dos dias, não vês? é tudo o que é. só isso. nada mais.

Friday, October 13, 2006



The dawn when lovers leave each other's arms is the same dawn that breaks on the execution of revolutionaries without a revolution. Isolation a deux cannot confront the effect of general isolation. Pleasure is broken off prematurely and lovers find themselves naked in the world, their actions suddenly ridiculous and pointless. No love is possible in an unhappy world.

The Revolution of Everyday Life, Raoul Vaneigem

Thursday, October 12, 2006

I Need To Meditate


and you could have it all
my empire of dirt

hurt, Nine Inch Nails

Black Autumn


My heart has collapsed on the tracks of a run-a-way train.

Sunday's Slave, Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds

Monday, October 09, 2006



An artist cannot speak about his art any more than a plant can discuss horticulture.

Jean Cocteau