Oliver Ross




Invent circuit boards, extra, otherwise you will become circuitously bored.

Poetry–circuit boards, hardcore hard drives, feeling memory: Products

from the “Neuro-Beauty-Farm” for shimmering body fantasies, where

the inside shifts to the outside, the outside to the inside, yeah, and who

still cares about the differences!

In the lab: They’re working on the world-within hypothesis and its forms of manifestation in our reductionistic physiologicalistic and psychologicalistic battered outer world. Along with its devotion to the multiple multiplicity instead of unity, multimedial instead of one-dimensional, diversified-diffuse instead of holistically unambiguous.

Oikonomia is okay, but what houses do we want to live in? What are we supposed to eat, and from what plates? In the living room: the soul streams from the wall socket and its juice from the atom, whatever it’s supposed to be. The aura loss leads to technical re-animation attempts and these days the pictures are flat showcases with integrated self-enlightening systems…and by that I do not mean your garden variety boob tube.

In the green house: the cultured new roses blossom here garishly and creep around the mood-reactor. In the neuro-bed of the quasi psyche

hypo-transparent levels are lounging around like turned-off filters, one

after another. Gadget memories. The layers interfere entropically, heading towards super-meltdown: When does the whole compost explode anyway?

Make fun! But stay serious. It’s now or never forever! Watch it! Be merry and aware, love not the computertomography of your body more than your self, for it is something other than you or I or it.

All of it language! Loads of programs! Picture elements, things as signs, welcome to the age of dia-re-eclectisism! Invent your brain, make sumptuous bodyscans of your life and show them to the others! The world is a brain – the world is a no brainer, the brain is a world, the brain is no… Explicatory logos instead of true to life mythos, that’s how it seems, huh? Toss Heidegger into the trash, but read him first! We are all Chinese, recently we were all still Americans, but what, dammit, do we want to become?


(translation: P.J. Blumenthal)

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