De-Con-Struc

[De-Con-Struc] Childlike Life Of The Black Tarantula // Kathy Acker

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Title: The Childlike Life Of The Black Tarantula

Author: Kathy Acker

Premise: meshing of historical women killing for good/dubious reason with Acker inserted sometimes in brackets pushing on from within ecstatic self-destruction/paranoia.

Publisher: Grove Press

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How much can be unleashed before exhaustion?

Euphoria > exhaustion > guilt [at exhaustion]

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I become a murderess.

I’m born in the late autumn or winter of 1827.

Troy,  New York.

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Acker was born in 1947, 1948 and 1944.

Into wealth yet refused to act that way acted exactly that way that some act when they’re born into wealth and can’t stand it want to escape do porn stripping file clerk work.

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Everyone hates me they just want to fuck me they don’t want to fuck me.

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Contradictions bold in the same sentence suffocated commas this paranoia laid out can be mesmeric at times a kind of truth [I load up Japanese father fucks daughter at mum’s wake let it run on no skips to penetration shot work myself up slow lethargic strokes faintly bored blur out father aspect not on purpose she’s too old to be real daughter better than watching genuine teen fuck finish up wipe off machinate sit there dead cold stare out at hawk flying past window know that it knows yeah let it be don’t have a gun anyway wasn’t her real father doesn’t mean anything watched a dog fuck a girl once not that immoral] truth that can be permitted doesn’t hollow Acker out in a way that might make her truly uncomfortable/abject. Go too wretched or too Id, or the layer above the Id with partial control on your part, and only way left is suicide.

Counterpoint: confession permitted Acker to keep going, keep writing, bracketed her.

I don’t know.

What else was there, if not this?

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[De-Con-Struc] Tractatus // Róbert Gál

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Text: Tractatus

Author: Róbert Gál

Translator: David Short

Publisher: Schism Press

Additional material: a guide to Wittgenstein/Tractatus that I got from the library as I know zero [atomic facts] about either.

Note: not a philosopher or academic so there will be reaching/misinterpretations.

Bigger Note: like all pieces in the De-Con-Struc series, this is not a review.

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There’s no getting this, and I’ll go from there.

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0.1 Logic must take care of itself.

1.1

I don’t remember the day I died, but it was obviously before I’d had time to be born. And nothing had mattered more to me than that very business of getting myself born. Ideally getting myself born into the me that had been born already, discretely, corpuscle by corpuscle. Born into the ready and waiting, hence painlessly. Not being born, though born already. But what into? Shall we imagine it? Might it not play havoc with the seeming need to have one’s own outer shell, for all that it just keeps on cracking?

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Born into one of the wealthiest families in Europe at that time, W’s early life was punctuated by two sibling suicides.

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The sense of dying in order to become capable of being born.

Coating for the self.

Beginning of it.

Is that right, R?

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Bo    [d]    rn           [ie]       >>>

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[De-Con-Struc] Sorcererer // Jace Brittain

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Text: Sorcererer

Author: Jace Brittain

Publisher: Schism Press

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Sorcererer Sorcerer Sorcerer Sorcererer

Sorcerer Sorcerer Sorcererer Sorcererer Sorcerererer Sorcererer

Sorcerer Sorcerer Sorcerer Sorcerer Sorcererer Sorcererer

Sorcerer Sorcererer Sorcererer Sorcererer Sorcererer Sorcerer

Sorcerererer Sorcererer Sorcerer Sorcererer Sorcerererer

Sorcererer vs Sorcerererer?

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Sorcererer is not a word but is now a word.

Sorcerererer.

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Will this type of malapropopism carry on into the main text?

Neologism?

It has to signal something. Surely. If Der ri da were at the helm, it’d degenerate into a thousand variations on the word pine, it would be the point in totality, but from what I’ve seen of Jace’s work, he won’t go that root.

[It’ll be ellusive in a different way].

By his work, I’m referring to the Pit and the Pendulum piece he did for Film dada[da]. Which played with language and form, and was painful to format on WordPress, but didn’t lose me at any point.

I’m wondering if this one will.

Even with my new-coached tactic of just letting experimental text absorb me, not forcing myself to look for meaning…there has to be something to keep my brain from saying huh?

Or in Jace’s case, what does that word mean?

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[De-Con-Struc] FrankenCop // Tyson Bley

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This is not a review but my method of reading experimental work, which is, in basic form:

Examine context/premise.

Go through the text and see what flows and what jars, which lines spark some kind of reaction.

Try to pull out the allusions, intended by the author or invented by myself.

Head off on tangents.

Speculate what the meaning might be.

Stop about thirty pages into the text to avoid spoilers.

I am not an expert, or an academic, or even anchored in reality half the time, so a lot of this could be way off.

But could also be way on too.

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Book: FrankenCop

Author: Tyson Bley

Publisher: Schism Press

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[Background/context]

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I’ve read a lot of Tyson’s poems and sent zines to post offices in Germany that may or may not have existed and listened to his song Gertrude’s Knees, so I usually know what I’m in for.

Body horror

Machinery gone wrong [or right, depending on your views]

Extreme juxtaposition of cultural references with anything conceivable

A bizarro, unforced sense of humour

Dada-style off-lyricism [or maybe zaum]

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