[spectre] anatomy of a list
Michael Benson
michael.benson@pristop.si
Wed, 21 Nov 2001 19:54:19 +0100
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It's great to get the list, and I wanna thank honor for plowing through =
the job. Seems to me, though, that what people may have been more or =
less asking for between the lines is that this disembodied list of =
subscribers give some kind of shout-in-the-dark account of themselves. =
Rather than just reposing in a list, with or without spam-ready e-mail =
particulars, useful though it is. What's important in forming some sort =
of weird atomized "community of sorts" is at least a nominally tangible =
sense of just who's out there, presumably based on the particulars of =
what people choose to say about themselves. "Who's out there" in the =
manner of Ripley in Alien: "Who the _fuck's_ out there?!" A question as =
expanded in a kind of pop-art cartoon bubble as a caption in a =
Lichtenstein painting, only in this case transmitted via Ridley Scott. =
Otherwise there's the risk of feeling like atomized radio stations =
sending signals out into infinity, as though all this were merely a =
spreading sphere of electromagnetic waves fired outwards from Earth at =
the speed of light, just another temporal info-sphere bubble evaporating =
into infinity. Though I suppose there's a lot of truth in that... (As =
for using analog icons in the brave new floating world, Lichtenstein's =
just another trope at the gates of all our suspended-animation =
information, all those atoms and circuits knitted together like a kind =
of cat's cradle-clockwork joining creeds and continents, if not =
socioeconomic categories. It's finally all extended out under the =
exploding stars comprising distant grid-works of information and =
activity, over and across the farthest horizon of our crystalline =
cyberspace structures, a place as far removed from contemporary =
knowledge as the phenomenon of the sun spot was before Galileo.)=20
In other words, being a "successor" to syndicate is hardly enough, it =
runs the risk of identification/sense-of-self based on an opposition to =
a defunct system finally retrospectively also formed in opposition to =
another ideology, and so on and so on ad infinitum. (Or even an =
identification/self-sense built on nostalgia for the past. In the =
Tarkovskian sense: the kind with a candle in a drained swimming pool). =
As Andreas and Inke pointed out recently, the whole dynamic of what it =
means to be part of an on-line community may have irrevocably changed. =
Utopias crash faster and faster these days, becoming just branching =
trees of fossilized associations in the process. After all, we can't =
deny, given the "dramaturgy" of the split from syndicate, and the roots =
of the name of spectre (and how it was chosen over "mir," i.e. "peace"), =
how very weirdly and of course unintentionally the whole seemingly =
removed story suddenly was subjected to a new series of associations in =
September, like a slam from cold, hard, real, real-world TV. Given that =
the Al Jazzera of the Western World, a.k.a. CNN, has been broadcasting =
24 hours a day of Wolf Blitzkrieg involving the real intentions behind =
organizations formed with the literal aims espoused in Cold War =
pseudo-sci-fi (for example, the James Bond series), it's hard not to =
remember the proto-spectre group considering the meanings behind =
S.P.E.C.T.R.E., one of a number of factional acronyms for the =
innumerable al Quieda networks of history. (Meanwhile Mir had come =
crashing down, of course, as literally and figuratively as you want to =
take it.)
Not that all _that_ really matters. In the end it all leads umbilically =
back, down the tunnel of history, to distant pre-digital data-banks =
labeled "Dante, Homer, etc." And ultimately to the wine dark sea, a =
place not particularly unlike 'wine dark cyberspace,' since after all =
the former was conveyed in an oral tradition not dissimilar to the =
immediacy of mailing lists (and definitely more so than dusty shelved =
books). Only in this case, our case, the wheeling "stars" form =
data-banks in that good old Gibsonian way, ziggurats and glowing =
pyramids of data, like Las Vegas at night, or Hong Kong harbor =
transmuted into 21st century LA by Ridley Scott. To jump momentarily =
from Alien to Blade Runner. In this case, our case, the sea below's =
awash with electronically transmitted words, a roiling sea of them =
filling the Mediterranean Basin, a.k.a. the cradle of civilization, =
"words, words, words/as though all worlds were there." (Robert Creeley) =
The true Deep Europe, at last in these terms, with its white pillars of =
knowledge blasted by the Aegean sun, extends outwards, backwards in =
time, forward to our contemporary future, and it serves as a linking =
device. (Among other things it's a bridge to the hallowed, hollow holy =
land, with its waves of anger and desperation, its wars, bombs, tanks, =
and machine guns, its injustices and sense of terminal days visible on =
terminals these interminable days.)=20
So I guess what I'm saying, a few spectral words to fill the seas. =
They're what we're using, in the end, to link worlds, addresses with or =
without suffixes, and the data-clusters of the contemporary Aegean, =
still struggling for democracy under white columns planted in wretched =
refuse beside teeming shores. Meanwhile civilizations that once looked =
like they were clashing still do, as the slander pounds down. And the =
world revolves, producing of course its harvest, time.=20
Cheers, MB=20
=20
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<DIV><FONT face=3D"Times New Roman" size=3D4>It's great to get the list, =
and I wanna=20
thank honor for plowing through the job. Seems to me, though, that what =
people=20
may have been more or less asking for between the lines is that this =
disembodied=20
list of subscribers give some kind of shout-in-the-dark account of =
themselves.=20
Rather than just reposing in a list, with or without spam-ready e-mail=20
particulars, useful though it is. What's important in forming some sort =
of weird=20
atomized "community of sorts" is at least a nominally tangible sense of =
just=20
who's out there, presumably based on the particulars of what people =
choose to=20
say about themselves. "Who's out there" in the manner of Ripley in =
Alien: "Who=20
the _fuck's_ out there?!" A question as expanded in a kind of pop-art =
cartoon=20
bubble as a caption in a Lichtenstein painting, only in this case =
transmitted=20
via Ridley Scott. Otherwise there's the risk of feeling like atomized =
radio=20
stations sending signals out into infinity, as though all this were =
merely a=20
spreading sphere of electromagnetic waves fired outwards from Earth at =
the speed=20
of light, just another temporal info-sphere bubble evaporating into =
infinity.=20
Though I suppose there's a lot of truth in that... (As for =
using analog=20
icons in the brave new floating world, Lichtenstein's just another trope =
at the=20
gates of all our suspended-animation information, all those atoms and =
circuits=20
knitted together like a kind of cat's cradle-clockwork joining =
creeds and=20
continents, if not socioeconomic categories. It's finally all extended =
out under=20
the exploding stars comprising distant grid-works of information and =
activity,=20
over and across the farthest horizon of our crystalline cyberspace =
structures, a=20
place as far removed from contemporary knowledge as the phenomenon of =
the sun=20
spot was before Galileo.) </FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=3D"Times New Roman" size=3D4></FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=3D"Times New Roman" size=3D4>In other words, being a =
"successor" to=20
syndicate is hardly enough, it runs the risk of =
identification/sense-of-self=20
based on an opposition to a defunct system finally retrospectively also =
formed=20
in opposition to another ideology, and so on and so on ad infinitum. (Or =
even an=20
identification/self-sense built on nostalgia for the past. In the=20
Tarkovskian sense: the kind with a candle in a drained swimming pool). =
As=20
Andreas and Inke pointed out recently, the whole dynamic of what it =
means to be=20
part of an on-line community may have irrevocably changed. Utopias crash =
faster=20
and faster these days, becoming just branching trees of fossilized =
associations=20
in the process. After all, we can't deny, given the "dramaturgy" of the =
split=20
from syndicate, and the roots of the name of spectre (and how it was =
chosen over=20
"mir," i.e. "peace"), how very weirdly and of course unintentionally the =
whole=20
seemingly removed story suddenly was subjected to a new series of =
associations=20
in September, like a slam from cold, hard, real, real-world TV. Given =
that the=20
Al Jazzera of the Western World, a.k.a. CNN, has been broadcasting 24 =
hours a=20
day of Wolf Blitzkrieg involving the real intentions behind =
organizations formed=20
with the literal aims espoused in Cold War pseudo-sci-fi (for example, =
the James=20
Bond series), it's hard not to remember the proto-spectre group =
considering=20
the meanings behind S.P.E.C.T.R.E., one of a number of factional =
acronyms for=20
the innumerable al Quieda networks of history. (Meanwhile Mir had come =
crashing=20
down, of course, as literally and figuratively as you want to take=20
it.)</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=3D"Times New Roman" size=3D4></FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=3D"Times New Roman" size=3D4>Not that all _that_ really =
matters. In=20
the end it all leads umbilically back, down the tunnel of history, to =
distant=20
pre-digital data-banks labeled "Dante, Homer, etc." And ultimately to =
the wine=20
dark sea, a place not particularly unlike 'wine dark cyberspace,' since =
after=20
all the former was conveyed in an oral tradition not dissimilar to the =
immediacy=20
of mailing lists (and definitely more so than dusty shelved books). Only =
in this=20
case, our case, the wheeling "stars" form data-banks in that good old =
Gibsonian=20
way, ziggurats and glowing pyramids of data, like Las Vegas at =
night, or=20
Hong Kong harbor transmuted into 21st century LA by Ridley Scott. To =
jump=20
momentarily from Alien to Blade Runner. In this case, our case, the =
sea=20
below's awash with electronically transmitted words, a roiling sea of =
them=20
filling the Mediterranean Basin, a.k.a. the cradle of civilization, =
"words,=20
words, words/as though all worlds were there." (Robert Creeley) The true =
Deep=20
Europe, at last in these terms, with its white pillars of knowledge =
blasted by=20
the Aegean sun, extends outwards, backwards in time, forward to our =
contemporary=20
future, and it serves as a linking device. (Among other things it's a =
bridge to=20
the hallowed, hollow holy land, with its waves of anger and desperation, =
its=20
wars, bombs, tanks, and machine guns, its injustices and sense of =
terminal days=20
visible on terminals these interminable days.) </FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=3D"Times New Roman" size=3D4></FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=3D"Times New Roman" size=3D4>So I guess what I'm saying, =
a few=20
spectral words to fill the seas. They're what we're using, in the end, =
to link=20
worlds, addresses with or without suffixes, and the data-clusters =
of the=20
contemporary Aegean, still struggling for democracy under white columns =
planted=20
in wretched refuse beside teeming shores. Meanwhile civilizations that =
once=20
looked like they were clashing still do, as the slander pounds down. And =
the=20
world revolves, producing of course its harvest, time. =
</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=3D"Times New Roman" size=3D4></FONT> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=3D"Times New Roman" size=3D4>Cheers, MB <BR> =20
<BR></FONT></DIV></BODY></HTML>
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