[spectre] a lost lamb...

Sun, 09 Sep 2001 02:59:42 +0000

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The Ballad of the Electric Sheep
who inside was really a lost lamb...

Once=20

when I was a cyber artist
I used to hide=20
behind a mask
some call it an alias
some call it a womb
some call it just plain scared...

All those wasted hours
of fun causing mayhem
killing time while=20
killing one=B9s real self
and my life=B9s
possible other selves

You see
I didn=B9t get it...

Honest
I just didn=B9t get it...
life that is

my projects and actions
were autistic in function
exploring new ideas
but they =20
were not real
or alive=20
because inside
I was dead

I used technology
to advertise entropy
on the back
of extropian dreams
keeping that flame
burning like a flag

but soon that flag
began to melt
like most illusions do
and time ate away at
my dystopian pangs

my mask began to feel
the gravity
and it had weight
declaring nothing but
the truth=B9s=20
the self lies
such vulnerable lies...

those vulnerable eyes
the windows to my soul
were closed
shut
not seeing

I was so busy
trying to be out there
in the world
the perfect object(s) of
self desire

I was always right
and the world was wrong
that is why I was
created after all
wasn=B9t it?
To put things right?

I used to believe that
empathy for others
was a failure
a weakness
a western designed
sentimental scheme
a Hollywood dream

I believed that ideas
were the passport
out of death in life
as well death in art

So I became an activist
a cyber artist
with a difference
I was  not only one
I was many

First there was one of me
then there was two
and then I multiplied
and then there 4=20
I soon became sixteen
of me
and now I am just
one...

that weight
that Ixion=B9s wheel
that I ignorantly
rested on my shoulder
was the mask

It really
was not me

I now that that now

As I punched
out at the world
with my hurting
I soon realised that
I was punching
at me

Each act of anger
was a moment
of self loathing
hidden by masculinity
and social programming

the default of hatred
war and gusto
disguised as honour
fooled me
for a while

I realise now
that I was asleep
in a coma
and it had become
my home
the womb

that electric womb
did once pulse=20
its cold juice in=20
and around my cranium
I had lost contact
with my heart

All my dreams
had become
the body electric
shimmering with a light
so bright
it was as though
I was alive

But I was not
really home

I saw the contempt
that I had created
in my domain
the cyber world
the place that I so
arrogantly claimed
as mine

As others questioned
my cyber antics
I shouted at them
with a hatred
of a lost lonely child

The truth is
that I am really human
and the tears that I
weep are a barometer
of the foolishness
that I feel

And as I watch
other electric sheep
dreaming and pissing
their souls away
in that ever blustery
ecstatic wind

creating their own
masks and mannerist
tasks
I know that what ever
I say is of no use
for they are dead
at present

but once they wake
and time has passed
a fresh light will
shine

I was brave enough
to throw that jigsaw
puzzle called life
into the air
watching
at last
using my eyes
seeing where they
actually land

I have not found god
or the answer to life
and those useless questions
designed to distract
and annoy
I have found
home...

a place without walls
a place without nationhood
a place that resides
inside of me
and the one I love=20

(a spontaneous poem/prose declaring that re-invention is not always the way
home. And there are many people who are homeless - physically, mentally as
well as emotionally. The most lost, are the one=B9s who hide behind the mask
of logic, the god of objectivity. The doctor=B9s knife. For behind that
muffled disguise is a subjective entity, riddled by the very natural state
we know as dysfunction. And dysfunction is dare I say it? A kind of truth.
Like a self lie. Like doubt, like death, birth and of course that thing tha=
t
we have labelled LOVE...)

marc garrett
http://www.furtherfield.org

=20

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<HTML>
<HEAD>
<TITLE>a lost lamb...</TITLE>
</HEAD>
<BODY>
The Ballad of the Electric Sheep 
who inside was really a lost lamb... 
 
 
Once 
 
when I was a cyber artist 
I used to hide 
behind a mask 
some call it an alias 
some call it a womb 
some call it just plain scared... 
 
All those wasted hours 
of fun causing mayhem 
killing time while 
killing one=B9s real self 
and my life=B9s 
possible other selves 
 
You see 
I didn=B9t get it... 
 
Honest 
I just didn=B9t get it... 
life that is 
 
my projects and actions 
were autistic in function 
exploring new ideas 
but they &nbsp; 
were not real 
or alive 
because inside 
I was dead 
 
I used technology 
to advertise entropy 
on the back 
of extropian dreams 
keeping that flame 
burning like a flag 
 
but soon that flag 
began to melt 
like most illusions do 
and time ate away at 
my dystopian pangs 
 
my mask began to feel 
the gravity 
and it had weight 
declaring nothing but 
the truth=B9s 
the self lies 
such vulnerable lies... 
 
 
those vulnerable eyes 
the windows to my soul 
were closed 
shut 
not seeing 
 
I was so busy 
trying to be out there 
in the world 
the perfect object(s) of 
self desire 
 
I was always right 
and the world was wrong 
that is why I was 
created after all 
wasn=B9t it? 
To put things right? 
 
I used to believe that 
empathy for others 
was a failure 
a weakness 
a western designed 
sentimental scheme 
a Hollywood dream 
 
I believed that ideas 
were the passport 
out of death in life 
as well death in art 
 
So I became an activist 
a cyber artist 
with a difference 
I was &nbsp;not only one 
I was many 
 
First there was one of me 
then there was two 
and then I multiplied 
and then there 4 
I soon became sixteen 
of me 
and now I am just 
one... 
 
that weight 
that Ixion=B9s wheel 
that I ignorantly 
rested on my shoulder 
was the mask 
 
 
It really 
was not me 
 
I now that that now 
 
As I punched 
out at the world 
with my hurting 
I soon realised that 
I was punching 
at me 
 
Each act of anger 
was a moment 
of self loathing 
hidden by masculinity 
and social programming 
 
the default of hatred 
war and gusto 
disguised as honour 
fooled me 
for a while 
 
I realise now 
that I was asleep 
in a coma 
and it had become 
my home 
the womb 
 
that electric womb 
did once pulse 
its cold juice in 
and around my cranium 
I had lost contact 
with my heart 
 
All my dreams 
had become 
the body electric 
shimmering with a light 
so bright 
it was as though 
I was alive 
 
But I was not 
really home 
 
I saw the contempt 
that I had created 
in my domain 
the cyber world 
the place that I so 
arrogantly claimed 
as mine 
 
As others questioned 
my cyber antics 
I shouted at them 
with a hatred 
of a lost lonely child 
 
The truth is 
that I am really human 
and the tears that I 
weep are a barometer 
of the foolishness 
that I feel 
 
And as I watch 
other electric sheep 
dreaming and pissing 
their souls away 
in that ever blustery 
ecstatic wind 
 
creating their own 
masks and mannerist 
tasks 
I know that what ever 
I say is of no use 
for they are dead 
at present 
 
but once they wake 
and time has passed 
a fresh light will 
shine 
 
I was brave enough 
to throw that jigsaw 
puzzle called life 
into the air 
watching 
at last 
using my eyes 
seeing where they 
actually land 
 
I have not found god 
or the answer to life 
and those useless questions 
designed to distract 
and annoy 
I have found 
home... 
 
a place without walls 
a place without nationhood 
a place that resides 
inside of me 
and the one I love 
 
 
(a spontaneous poem/prose declaring that re-invention is not always the way=
 home. And there are many people who are homeless - physically, mentally as =
well as emotionally. The most lost, are the one=B9s who hide behind the mask o=
f logic, the god of objectivity. The doctor=B9s knife. For behind that muffled=
 disguise is a subjective entity, riddled by the very natural state we know =
as dysfunction. And dysfunction is dare I say it? A kind of truth. Like a se=
lf lie. Like doubt, like death, birth and of course that thing that we have =
labelled LOVE...) &nbsp;&nbsp; 
 
 
marc garrett 
http://www.furtherfield.org 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 &nbsp; 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
</BODY>
</HTML>

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