We were free very very free, so free desire left the building. We were so open, so utterly open, so superbly open everything, yes everything became surface, so open we started to baby sit openness. We were so amazingly present and thirteen’s chakra – OMG any form of asymmetry were annihilated already in the antechamber. We had it all – more than almost and Whitney – how could we not we were free free free, and we understood the world and it all – we could see everything and we were one with nature [but in the wrong way, oups] – we were so ultra make me one with everything and Gordon Matta-Clark parsley started growing out of our ears [Matta-Clark, Jezuz equivalent to having a crush on Martha Rosler – Food meets Semiotics of the Kitchen, nausea alert nausea alert – a hole made in a freakin house and the reverse, a hole taken from a freakin house called garage sale – deep – OD on Frankfurt school, blame imperialism from the inside – it wasn’t me – and out comes a fully developed hoarder – nausea alert nausea alert]. The obliteration of differentiation made it impossible to produce anything at all except – beyond creativity which wasn’t open enough, which is already conscious and an engagement with decision making processes – there was nothing left nothing nada at all, there was only authenticity, a full body presence with a big ass P. And btw, Vito Acconci’s dress code, we were so free we let his hair do pass – and that next to the jacket he wears in “Following Piece” – stop thinking that stuff was good. You know something, that schtuff when Vito is holding on to his penis under some shipboard slope –it’s not good, it’s not brill, it’s not deterritorializing, it’s not even for a millisecond cool, it’s not half way groovy, it’s not even halfway Sophia Coppola – you know Seedbed wasn’t the shit not even in 1972, what was doesn’t matter but fuck it, you know what, Vito in seventy-two was approximately as mind blowing as urgency in 2013, not at all, and I repeated – not at all.
But, even though it might just appear fa-fa-far fetched perhaps there is a connection between the two, freedom and ubiquity? In our catalogue the endless freedom we experienced in the 70s respectively the emergence of a limitless all over the place financial capitalism.
These situations are in fact identical it’s just that they are each other’s reversal. The seventies found itself caught in a moment where the struggle for emancipation and freedom was won. What are we doing now? Shit. Our current predicament is more of the same but the opposite, namely, we found ourselves in an endless everything is everything – the whole chebang has been financialized including potentiality and we’ve all became young girls – where openness itself has become an openness. Ubiquity, simultaneity, FB and endless availability has become a prison and no choice is better, worse, good or bad, success or failure, they are both and interchangeable all the time. We are so fucked. Urgency thus shows up as a nice opportunity [but exactly only opportunity] departing from known and established conventions and modes of quality assessment, becoming a dark horse, a high odds bet, risk thingy [dude, you are so up the wall], but it plays in no respect on another ball field but moves straight into and likes it. Urgency to what, bitch? To whatever and to anything all the time, aha. Urgency is a feel good for suckers, that believe their sexuality is experimental just because there is a sex toy shop in their city.
Wie man sich better, so liegt man – the seventies found itself in bed with freedom and didn’t know how to get the fuck out. Tun was du wilst mit mir [do to me whatever you like], who wouldn’t get scared shitless by somebody whispering that when the lights are off. Freaky, you just ended up naked with some kind of meta-serial killer, this is Catherine Tramell in a death match with Sharon Stone, and you are sipping on a Red Bull. Twenty-thirteen aha check it out found ubiquity in the bed, paralyzed, ch’terical and totally beyond “-Ehhh, where am I about to sleep?”, and ubiquity responds with a snake like vocalization, totally digital but mystically made to sound exactly like you think you remember your mothers voice when she passed language from one living being to anther [you sentimental creep. Bifo pö-lease, don’t go there] “-Here come, next to me, I will take care of you. I’m new like everything else and more recognizable than your ex”, mesmerized I crawl into bed. “-No no no”, I shout “-I have urgency…” and crawl into bed happy with myself. Justified, you little cowards.
I like this, so the seventies, the establishment of a feedback mechanism in the name of freedom that surveilles itself, a totalitarian freedom or simply utopia, which obviously is not a place we want to be in [at least not to begin with or for more than a really really short moment, at least not a utopia made into exhibitions and Danish artists born in the earlier 60s, SVP, or even worse you know like advertised on the www you use to download movies…], in particular as it obliterates desire, Freudian or D/G machines. Right now, right now this very moment on the other hand, the establishment of a mechanism – today called social network – that produce infinite amounts of freedom as financialized abstract value, who doesn’t surveille but instead transforms the subject into a totalitarian, or in-total, producer of itself as free.
Pas de tout, the referent didn’t blow up post 2008, or with whatever riots in London, Paris or Occupy. No way, the referent wasn’t there ever, we just believed it was, and wanted to. The point is not if or not it was around, the point is how it wasn’t, through forms of asymmetry, vis-á-vis freedom, ubiquity, apocalypse or a burning freaking bush. There’s no way out, not even a small one, not even a vague path through the forest, not even a adventures journey financialized by some hobbit and New Zealand. And it gets better we can’t even build one, we can’t even start trying. In Lewis Carroll’s “Hunting of The Snark” the captain shows up with a map that is an absolute blank and everybody is happy and overwhelmed cuz as we know conventional signs only bring us to places contained within the matrix of those signs. Already in the seventies that map was fucked and a smooth matrix of freedom, today ladies an gents that map is known as financial capitalism and we are fucked, and mind you improvisation is not gonna be much help, and yet – look at this – only improvisation will brings us out into the open – fuck openness it’s just a way of being [Maayan] – openness tells us life is okay, that consciousness one day will bring us onto the right path. No no no, it’s worse we have to insist on a radical open – everything I conclude works is not enough not even close. The open is not ubiquitous, it’s not free or –dom, it’s worse its not even that, not even all over the place and all of it at the same time, it’s worse – if openness is something it’s a werewolf dressed up like Benicio Del Toro – and Obama playing the role of Anthony Hopkins – a werewolf every once a months, then the open is a vampire and every fuckin day [and I’m in love with her].