Not Monday, not Wednesday, not Anyday. Just Tuesdays, no matter what day it is or where it is located.
‘The street’, above, was quickly constructed last Friday afternoon (I will leave it to the eagle eyed to spy out some of the source material). It became a long overdue gift to an old friend.
‘The street’ was rapidly followed by three other comic based collages. The results I turned into a collage zine that has already been printed and distributed.
Click on the cover image of the zine, below, or here, for a copy of the collage zine. Though laid out in A4 format, I recommend printing it as an A5 pamphlet.
fig. 1. Detail from La Hipótesis: Song of Myself by Nirsa. See below for links to pdfs.
Episodes in the “La Hipótesis” saga…
From time to time, the sinister science turns its attention to a world other than this one. This other world is neither too far nor too close for comfort. We can say, with a great deal of certainty, that it is has nothing to do with Immanuel Kant’s noumena, and everything to do with the sometimes mysterious, other times limpidly clear notion of immanence. The other world is right here, now, even if it is also infinitely remote. Which is to say, this other world is to be made, to be born within the womb of the old.
Occasionally, we are lucky enough to intercept messages from this other world—communiques from another life. On a wavelength difficult to access, a certain Nirsa recently contacted us. I can tell you we were as surprised as we were excited by their missive. Nirsa proposed a story, part harangue, part dialogue, and yet the very quintessence of truth. Less generous souls might call it entirely confabulated. We, however, recognise in La Hipótesis the verification of an absolute perspective and project: a song of myself.
As Walt Whitman once remarked in his own song, every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you. We can be assured that among the many properties of atoms, the property of belonging, of relation, overrides the conventionally historical and ephemeral sense of isolation, and indeed, atomisation. To be an atom is already to be a cosmos. Accordingly, Nirsa sings of an absence, sub specie aeternitatis, that is nothing other than a fullness. Which is to say—as we must—a dialectic in operation, tirelessly, by turns contingent and necessary.
And so, today, without further ado, we have the pleasure of presenting this communique, and anticipate its continuation and replication upon other frequencies:
fig. 2. Detail from La Hipótesis: Song of Myself by Nirsa. See above for links to pdfs.
And as the years pass, and our sense of belonging is battered by the scourge of work and empire, do not forget, “apes-ma, your cage isn’t getting bigger…”
sf & critical theory join forces to destroy the present
the sinister science 