October 7, 2014 at 1:58am
204 notes
Reblogged from underpaidgenius


1. We want to sing of the danger of love, the daily creation of a sweet energy that is never dispersed.

2. The essential elements of our poetry will be irony, tenderness and rebellion.

3. Ideology and advertising have exalted the permanent mobilisation of the productive and nervous energies of humankind towards profit and war. We want to exalt tenderness, sleep and ecstasy, the frugality of needs and the pleasure of the senses.

4. We declare that the splendor of the world has been enriched by a new beauty: the beauty of autonomy. Each to her own rhythm; nobody must be constrained to march on a uniform pace. Cars have lost their allure of rarity and above all they can no longer perform the task they were conceived for: speed has slowed down. Cars are immobile like stupid slumbering tortoises in the city traffic. Only slowness is fast.

5. We want to sing of the men and the women who caress one another to know one another and the world better.

6. The poet must expend herself with warmth and prodigality to increase the power of collective intelligence and reduce the time of wage labour.

7. Beauty exists only in autonomy. No work that fails to express the intelligence of the possible can be a masterpiece. Poetry is a bridge cast over the abyss of nothingness to allow the sharing of different imaginations and to free singularities.

8. We are on the extreme promontory of the centuries… We must look behind to remember the abyss of violence and horror that military aggressiveness and nationalist ignorance is capable of conjuring up at any moment in time. We have lived in the stagnant time of religion for too long. Omnipresent and eternal speed is already behind us, in the Internet, so we can forget its syncopated rhymes and find our singular rhythm.

9. We want to ridicule the idiots who spread the discourse of war: the fanatics of competition, the fanatics of the bearded gods who incite massacres, the fanatics terrorised by the disarming femininity blossoming in all of us.

10. We demand that art turns into a life-changing force. We seek to abolish the separation between poetry and mass communication, to reclaim the power of media from the merchants and return it to the poets and the sages.

11. We will sing of the great crowds who can finally free themselves from the slavery of wage labour and through solidarity revolt against exploitation. We will sing of the infinite web of knowledge and invention, the immaterial technology that frees us from physical hardship. We will sing of the rebellious cognitariat who is in touch with her own body. We will sing to the infinity of the present and abandon the illusion of a future.

— Franco Berardi aka Bifo, MANIFESTO DEL DOPOFUTURISMO [manifesto of post-futurism] via  eipcp.net (via underpaidgenius)

(via thenewobjective)

September 17, 2014 at 2:59am
75 notes
Reblogged from mthvn


Holly Herndon — “HOME” — 2014
Music by Holly Herndon
Video directed and designed by Metahaven
RVNG Intl.

September 2, 2014 at 1:57am
74 notes
Reblogged from culturite

August 24, 2014 at 2:53am
1 note
Reblogged from bashford


TransProse by Hannah Davis and Saif Mohammad is the first iteration of a program that finds different emotions throughout different novels and programmatically creates music based on those values.

TransProse reads in the text of a novel and determines densities of eight different emotions (joy, sadness, anger, disgust, anticipation, surprise, trust, and fear) and two different states (positive or negative) throughout the novel. The musical piece chronologically follows the novel (broken up into beginning, early middle, late middle, and end parts, with four measures representing each of these sections). It uses the emotion density data to determine the tempo, key, notes, octaves, etc. for the piece depending on different rules and parameters. 

August 20, 2014 at 10:21am
341 notes
Reblogged from uemulagirls

future girl HATSUKA 2 “Garbage problem”

For your consideration.In the Japan of the future, if you dig in any park whatsoever,you will not fail to unearth a time capsule.


future girl HATSUKA 2 “Garbage problem”

For your consideration.
In the Japan of the future, if you dig in any park whatsoever,
you will not fail to unearth a time capsule.

August 10, 2014 at 2:57am
7,163 notes
Reblogged from augutsy


augutsyglitched town on google maps

(via cruelbots)

July 29, 2014 at 12:21pm
1 note
Reblogged from pulled-up

Love frustrates the simple opposition between economy and noneconomy. Love is precisely – when it is, when it is the act of a singular being, of a body, of a heart, of a thinking – that which brings an end to the dichotomy between the love in which I lose myself without reserve and the love in which I recuperate myself, to the opposition between gift and property.

— Jean-Luc Nancy, Shattered Love (via pulled-up)

July 2, 2014 at 10:11am
2 notes

Why are there so many love ballads in dystopian films?

Richard Yeates has a fascinating post up looking at the use of music by The Ink Spots in dystopian films and series such as Blade Runner, Fallout and Bioshock

William Gibbons, writing about the use of Django Rheinhardt’s “La Mer” in Bioshock, writes of a similar use for the optimism of music from the past: “the piece … creates a mood, conveying a sense of optimism with its spry violin and jazz-inflected guitar chords[.] … This optimism, however, soon reveals itself to be painfully ironic, as the utopian promises made by the song have long since dissipated.”

A similar dynamic is at play with the use of the Ink Spots. Scott Bukatman’s ‘retrofuturism,’ or a fascination with past imaginings of the future, likely has some importance here, and the pairing of their music with the “Corvega” automobile commercial in the Fallout intro and the antiquated record player in The Walking Dead resonate with this. The hopeful love songs of the past sit uncomfortably within the world of nuclear or zombie apocalypse, showing how far society has fallen and how the most important values of the past have lost all meaning. In Blade Runner, the killing of Zora leaves Deckard feeling emotionally hollowed out, and the love and longing expressed in Vangelis’s song creates a contrast that highlights this. It may just be that the hopeful tones of these kinds of songs, with the Ink Spots as a prime example, figure as ironic contrast to the reality the viewer/reader/player is presented with.

I love the suggestion that this trope is connected with retrofuturism. It could be that there is something more to be explored here in terms of affect and temporality à la Heather Love’s Feeling Backwards. Maybe dystopia as a genre registers a type of affect that can best be compared to the foreclosed dreams contained in the popular songs of an earlier time. It’s interesting to think about how dystopias manifest a certain kind of failure to work through, and how we can understand this formally and generically: as Kitsch, as evasion, as (failed) memorialization…?

June 30, 2014 at 4:22pm
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Sara Tuss Efrik and Mark Efrik Hammarberg:

PERSONA PEEP SHOW is an exorcism playing Bibi Andersson playing Liv Ullman playing Blondie playing Videodrome playing hegemony playing enticing voices playing refusal playing lack playing dumping ground playing throat singing playing artificial deliverance. 

A woman with double faces and chattering jaw stages herself in her own afflicted nature. She plunges deep into her ransacked body. She meets her self, vomits up assertions about freedom, chews and spits in order to be resurrected in a beyond-language-sphere of neon and growl. 

May 14, 2014 at 8:50am
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Martin Brick was a little child who lay in his bed and dreamed.

It was a summer evening and at dusk, quiet and green, and Martin walked with beside his mother’s hand through a large and peculiar garden, where the shadows were dark in the depths of the walkways. On both sides of the path grew unusual blue and red flowers. They fluttered with the wind back and forth on their narrow stalks. He walked holding his mamma’s hand, looking astonished at the flowers and thinking about nothing. You may only pick the blue flowers, the red ones are poisonous, said his mother. Then he let go of her hand and stopped to pick a flower for her. He wanted to pick a great blue flower that sat nodding heavily on its stalk. Such a peculiar flower! He looked at it and inhaled its scent. Then he looked at it again with wide, astonished eyes: it wasn’t blue at all, it was red! It was altogether red! And so hideously, poisonously red! He threw the cruel flower on the ground and stomped on it as on a dangerous animal. But when he turned around his mother was gone. Mamma, he cried, where are you? Where are you, why are you hiding from me? Martin ran a bit down the walkway but saw no one, and came near to tears. The walkway was quiet and empty, and it grew darker and darker. Finally he heard a voice quite close: Here I am, Martin, don’t you see me? But Marin saw nothing. I’m right here, why don’t you come to me? Now Martin understood: behind the elder shrub, it was there the voice came from. That he hadn’t understood it immediately… And he ran there looking to look; he was sure his mother was hiding there. But behind the elder shrub was Frans from Long Row making a nasty grimace with his fat, ulcerous lips, sticking out his tongue as far as he could! And such a tongue he had: it got longer and longer; in fact, it never ended, and it was covered with yellow-green bruises.

Frans was a little ruffian who lived in “Long Row” diagonally across the street. Last Sunday he had spat on Martin’s new jacket and called him a snob.

Martin wanted to run away but stood as if nailed to the earth. He felt how his legs grew numb beneath him. The garden and flowers and trees were gone, and he stood back home with Frans alone in a dark corner of the yard, by the ashbin, and he tried to scream, but it felt as though his throat was all laced up…

From Hjalmar Söderberg, The Youth of Martin Brick / Martin Bricks ungdom (1901)