The guerilla fights the war of the flea, and his military enemy
suffers the dog's disadvantages: too much to defend, too
small ubiquitous and agile an enemy to come to grips with. If
the war continues long enough, the dog succumbs to
exhaustion and anaemia without ever having found anything
on which to close its jaws or to rake with its claws.
1980: burned out shells of helicopters swallowed by the
desert. Chopper War USA (the sequel) has come to the same
conclusion as the original. The US: an exhausted dog
incubating larvae. UV Rays -10 to the sixteenth cycles per
second - the insect sees on its own colour vision. Dying power
puppets take note. The only way we're going to win this is on
film. As Hollywood revives the body of the despot, new
pharoahs emerge from Silicon valley. Flea control is power
learning its lesson. Metrophage can be caught by surprise
once, but not twice. Already occupying the future is the key to
counterguerrilla activity. Recalibrating sights to target insect
enemies generates two new strategies:
1: Bug hunts.
Laser guided remote control extermination
programmes. You're going out to destroy them, right?
Not to study, not to bring them back, but to wipe them
out. Ultra-high tech SF optical space weaponry
geared up to fight wars that are clean only in the
sense that they are waged as pest control. The aim
no longer to occupy territory on the ground but to
decontaminate from the sky. Clean sweeps operated
from a safe distance.
2: Swarmachinic control.
Close up. Control X. Haptic space invasion getting
under the skin of the enemy. Sticky heat. Your blood's
sweating now - can you feel it simmer? Complex
chaos management systems operating sophisticated
stimulus-response feedback circuits. Organised
insecurity, programmed catastrophe, unanticipated
consequences already dealt with. Populations
injected with antiviral agents, guerilla tacticians
working for Absolute Peace: SWAT teams, Special
Forces, undercover ops, CIA drug runners.
Absolute Peace is the same as permanent war. A grey area.
New circumstances obtain. Conduits and dams and
floodgates have exceeded capacity. Deregulated trade
without unions. From Dawn of the Dead to Night of the Living
Bassheads. Factory farmed dead labour decommisioned, and
the arteries of the new world disorder flow with post-industrial
junk. Capture gets addictive. It works so much better when
you want it.
Watch yourself. Everyone is rushed to extensive care in
comfort-style hyperregulation. Indefinitely postponed. Take
your work home with you. Thermostatic normalization is all
part of the service; in case you were wondering, you've been
undergoing pollenation.
fireflys - strobe - blink - the light's in your eyes
K-space isn't the promised land, but a battleground - snakes
and ladders played out in 3D.
Metrophage's basic problem: what degree of distribution is
required in order to keep things stratified? Jungle's basic
problem: what degree of stratification is required in order to
get distributed?
There is no need to fear or hope, but only to look for new
weapons.
The enemy haunts the virtual, forcing the pyramid to flatten.
Control searches for the optimal distribution point for power.
But while the State is strapped to the past the war machine
boots into the future. You push the pyramid down and it
seeps. The intravenous rush drives open lines of
communication. Valves quiver under the strain to stay vacant.
Welcome inside.
Khaki, colour of dust. The only effective way to track your
enemy is to become it. (Spies have always known this).
Narcotic trade as guerrilla swarmachine. Becoming
imperceptible, Becoming flea...but territorial fleas. Dog fleas.
Subterranean networks of molecular distribution,
deterritorializing the apparatus of statist commodity control,
but reterritorializing as micro-statist oedipal organized crime
syndicates. Statist and micro-statist Drug Enforcement
Agencies in ostensible opposition, white economies vs. black
markets, poles of mutually legitimating cybernetic interaction
operating territorial protectionism.
Meanwhile, Body without Organized crime establishes new
channels for intensity diffusion. Keyser Soze is only a name
for illicit distribution across K-space. Kobayashi knows that
Dean Keaton is as much of a dupe as Michael Corleone. You
can't go legit. Overwhelming pathos as the Godfather watches
mummified oedipal Europower decomposing into worldwide
webs of corruption: Omililgiari ... P2 ... vatican ... Calvi...
Internal third world neo-gangsta sneers at dreams of
respectability and innovates connectionist trade routes into
the jungle.
It all mixes in the blood of the junkie.
Stop me when you're wanting more.
Then again, I don't want to ask for your
opinion...I'm waiting for your cry, your divide, your trembling
fingernails.
Submission without supression.
Look at me when I'm talking to you.
Humiliate me and I become you; beyond and become control.
She lay back and stretched her surfaces so taut there were
tears starting to appear. The contours of her throat trembled a
silent rosary. She felt the membranes re-route and re-tasted
her cry. User. She knew she was being probed. It had kept its
back to her but she could so distinctively feel it. Insects under
the skin. Multiform and manouevering,..the unassignable
material saboteur forever under track by the cult of the detail.
Grains of sand transported into the sterility of a lab grown into
crystal, Matter molded and carefully distributed takes on the
morphology of circuitry.
Desert swarm. Engulfing sand, more of it than the eye can
take in. Visible light - 10 to the fourteenth cycles per second you remove your protection to his naked eye. Resisting
specification, camouflage melting in X-ray optics - 10 to the
eighteenth cycles per second and your tissues divide. Sand
suffocates man as the sea does, only more maliciously
because more slowly. Turning into silicon. Terminal beaches
energized by electron flash-floods. Human desertion.
Wiry sacs carrying the flow of blood, muscle transformed into
tendon, bones held together by elasticized ligaments, a
network of nerves clinging to muscle and flesh ... all organize
to form a finger. Familiar territory, grids mapped out onto a
slab of plastic. A surplus value of force waits, poised
programmed to understand the weight of flesh on plastic...
with each beat of the finger matter becomes speed.
Victory depends on this. An army used to need more
typewriters than medium and light artillery pieces. Now
computers; shift to soft copy. Flashback, 1943: Colossus
defeats Enigma, machines stolen from the future hunt down
numbers at rates that shatter human time.
Sea space, air space. K-space waiting in the office from the
start. Communication seepage in even the most segmented
offices - potential contiguity of all points; Advanced Research
Programmes Agency Network takes lessons from perverse
bureaucracy. Recurring dream space of corridors where the
approach to the castle is by endless detours but also by
unexpected jumps. Another dimension: a sort of adjacency
marked by halts, sudden stops, where parts, gears, assemble
themselves.
Riding the bear. Microsoft war machines pick off Big Blue just
in time to make Orwell redundant. After 1980 job security is
an archaism. Lumbering, centre-heavy big daddy mainframes
can't respond quickly enough to parasite takeover. IBM office
clones are no different from clock in-clock-out industry robots,
both obsolesced by control-phase continuously assessed
flexitime.
Keyboards unpick k-locks, enabling power to go microsoft.
Minituarized, made supple, and all the more dangerous for it.
Ant hills: the boss's office is as much at the end of the hall as
at the top of the tower.
Cool Ice. Pure terror. Don't let it heat up. Infrared tasting your
sweat. Warding off explosive, hot catastrophe, televisual
capture cools implosion, dissipating injected doses of intensity
through a concentric wave refrigeration system. Thermostatic
criminostasis as sim-city dissolves into the actual, inducing
the flocking behaviour of goa trance as the sun rises in the
east. Actuarial justice, group risk profiles -provide the
indicators by ticking the boxes and get selected - where do
you live, are you married, got a job, an education, a criminal
record. Congratulations, you're selected for incapacitation.
Not deterrence but the manipulation of demographic
aggregates. White magic of criminal lotteries - your number's
up.
Manage risk in Operation Weed style techno-cratic
self-perpertuation. Eliminate bottlenecks, probation and parole
to avoid the trial loops, fast track prosecution for career
criminals. Do you really need guilt anymore?
Omnipresent impotence shifts to the infinite surfaces of
faceless delegation. Power on automatic pilot, rogue cells
executing command, cancerous metabolic vehicles with
no-one driving. What clicks into place Dealey Plaza 1963 is a
hive assasination weapon. Not a paranoic conspiracy, but a
rhizomaniac web.
End of level 4 and you find that all along you've been working
for the other side.
Control X: the unspecified enemy is user friendy. In control
societies the key thing is no longer a signature or a number
but a code. Log on and imperceptible matter throbs with a
crazed espionage. With each stroke of the keyboard we leave
our trace. The air is alive with secrets, and everything is a
potential resource for the global war machine. The system
runs, falters, pauses, flows - it runs under control and over the
top - penetrating your every cell, synthetically manufacturing
the microphysical fabric. It strokes almost without sensation,
yet she arches her back craving the touch of a breath.
Infested deep pile jungle requests C3- copter carpet bombing.
Pregnant, bulbous- vertical take-off egg-laying machines
stinging the eye with swarming flash attacks. No tears left,
only sparks.
I've never felt so at home in the midst of the battle.
Wars have never been as bloody as they have been since the
nineteenth century. Explicit calculating machines of microsoft
power manage megaviolence rather than eliminate the need
for it. War provides commercial opportunities for absolute
peace, hardware demonstration exercises generating new
input for playstation behaviour modelling systems.
Dromoscopic Vietnam refought by the film companies goes
intergalactic in Aliens. Desert Storm is the sequel. Video
captured in the Persian Gulf, virtual war slams airborne
cyber-deleonomes against an immobilized, sedentary enemy
in U.N. tele-spatial media mash-up. Megadriving out of
history, the Gulf war is not an event but a CNN-scheduled,
SEGA reformattable digital scenario played out for the benefit
of data-hungry simulation strategy modules. They arrived
within minutes.
This time Chopper War U.S.A. is a success. 24-hour MTV
programming for terminal man to jack into. The body of the
dead rock star mixed with sampled shots of helicopter
wreckage as foci of maximum sexual arousal in adolescent
sex substitutes. Here we are now, entertain us.
Atroci-tv. Terminal in every room, but leaving open
unforeseen feedback possibilities. Electron swarm cathode
ray tube - why would such an instrument of sedation, of such
hypnotic normativism, of prisoner discipline be harnessed
under charges of violent induction? Because whilst it sedates
it seduces and bleeds.
Biomorphic horror rides solarizing atrocity newsreels into the
D.M.Z. of the arcade, fusing brain core, nerve cortex and
movement-image on the glutinous screens of the console,
virtual war datableeding out of commercial control, washing
amphibious pioneers of the end of the State onto the fractal
subdivisions of coastlines of imperial glacis. Radioactive
surplus value leaks into autopoetic black magic, voodoo
through incendiary turbulence.
Uptown, the Hezbullah strap on nitroglicerine for all to see and then vanish. Pure energy. Mobile rapid response units of
space invaders are reterritorialised on the static black hole
system of fire bases - waiting in the dark to be picked-off limb,
by limb, by limb: paralyzed in the suburbs of Necropolis; the
neutralising space in which the loss of movement for invaders
means prolonged exposure to the jungle, infection, death. The
last organs fall off leper earth revealing sockets of mangled
circuitry and coagulated blood dispersing out through
transcarcerative planomenal veins - drug rush, energy rush,
artillery through the arteries.
If you want the news follow the CNN rapid deployment force.
1992 - Los Angelian white magic. The anti-panther late sixties
love-in between CIA and mafioso mutates into hallucinations
of danger. Heroin goes triadic, the veins ice over and crack.
South central and distributed samplers transport the after
glow of micro-fascist stick-bundle mobilisations.
-Flashpoint.
- Not flat to the floor speed but the consistency of catatonic
lightning - a martial art, yes, but remember, the war machine
only gets frisky when strata blubber-nauts construct colonic
irrigation for flash-flood insurgency. Undercover cop
endoscopic infiltration. A war machine in every cell.
-Pause.
-Quantize.
-Loop the star shaped Rodney King/ KKK assemblage and
insert into Wagnerian four to the floor LAPD soundscape,
Facing the strata everything feeds back towards the
spectacular archaism of sovereign phase penality-
-red alert
-unspecified danger.
-obey your focal length.
-they all look the same. . .white magic.
-Zoom to the darkside.
Control X terminated
Slow motion baton swings incite riot response. Programmed.
Bruised blacktion replay. Real time footage, kicking habits
booting up, decapitated King, body of the condemned.
Control X
posed broken doll black and white photo
Blood traces pulped video flesh, black and blue lines
Execute control command.