Pink Automaton of the Panapocalypse
...there floods on Enzian what seems to him an extraordinary understanding. This serpentine slag-heap he is just about to ride into now, this ex-refinery... is not a ruin at all. It is in perfect working order. Only waiting for the right connections to be set up, to be switched on. . . modified, precisely, deliberately by bombing
that was never hostile, but part of a plan both sides sides? had always agreed on. . .
...say we are supposed to be the Kabbalists out here, say that's our real Destiny, to be the scholar-magicians of the Zone, with somewhere in it a Text, to be picked to pieces, annotated, explicated, and masturbated till it's all squeezed limp of its last drop... well we assumed natürlich! that this holy Text had to be the Rocket, orururumo orunene the high, rising, dead, the blazing, the great one... our Torah. What else? Its symmetries, its latencies, the cuteness of it enchanted and seduced us while the real Text persisted, somewhere else, in its darkness, our darkness. . .
But if I'm riding through it, the Real Text, right now, if this is it... if what the IG built on this site were not at all the final shape of it, but only an arrangement of fetishes... [then] the bombing was the exact industrial process of conversion, each release of energy placed exactly in space and time, each shockwave plotted in advance to bring precisely tonight's wreck into being thus decoding the Text, thus coding, recoding, redecoding the holy Text. . .
Paranoid Systems of History: plot, subplot, metaplot,
integrating (in)to the network of all plots, the grand hypertextual edifice
of paranoia, where everything is connected. And it is! Not so far
away, somewhere over the Rainbow on the American end of an intercontinental
arc, our colleague Jack Gladney tells his class in Advanced Nazism: "All
plots tend to move deathward. ...We edge nearer death every time we plot.
It is like a contract that all must sign, the plotters as well as those
who are the targets of the plot." Dire narratology indeed, but as the
speaker goes on to ask himself, is it true? "Why did I say it? What
does it mean?" All good questions. Must we assume that in relentlessly
encoding the holy Text we are slouching toward our own, and our species'
death? True, the text-Werke is born of destructive processes. Technology
is violence, science a scision. Does this heritage prefigure an ultimate
systems crash, a state of incurable information, a collision with chaos
or "Infocalypse?" Or do other possibilities offer themselves?
What if we cannot have our Apocalypse now? Suppose we find a new anthem
to sing, one that omits the bombs bursting in air? To learn the answers
to these questions we must know more about the Text around us. What exactly
is it? Or as Enzian frames the question...
If it is in working order, what is it meant to do?
Things To Do With The Text: Only connect... See which explosions fail to come... Break down and scatter... Wave and radiate... Find a way back from the future... Punctuate the Late Age of Print... Provide the moving difference its Engine... Design anything that way and have it work... Conduct your mystory... Take your word, thief... Hack the brainstem... Say you want a revolution... Match minds... Change your head... Dial up the god within... Keep believing it, shit-for-brains... Stop worrying, feel fine, love apocalypse... Now everybody...
Well, this is stimulant talk here, yes Enzian's been stuffing down Nazi surplus Pervitins these days like popcorn at the movies....
At the beginning there will have been speed... a-and yes, we have always been at the movies...