#title Seven Subversive instasonnets #author Peter Lamborn Wilson #SORTauthors Hakim Bey #SORTtopics Poetry, Fifth Estate #date 2009 #source Retrieved on 6th October 2021 from [[https://www.fifthestate.org/archive/380-spring-2009/seven-subversive-instasonnets/][www.fifthestate.org]] #lang en #pubdate 2021-10-06T11:12:43 #notes Published in Fifth Estate #380, Spring 2009 *** Sabotage Captain Nemo the SciFi Stirnerite lurks beneath our waves of text like a semantic barracuda. If God won’t be dead till we kill grammar as Nietzsche said then Chomsky must be at least the Pope (Papa not dada)– scarcely the “brainless luddism” to which we all aspire. Scorpions ate our subtext–you can see light thru the wormholes in our subversive submarine– das Boot ist der Book & we’re not coming up for air while we can still swim amidst alternative readings like guerillas lost in the maquis of misinterpretation. *** Old Mole Undermines the Lawn of Rhetoric adjusts his Vincent Price style granny shades grins at Water Rat his Leonardo or roommate as we used to say in the 1950s: The problem with L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E dear Ratty he confides myopically is (and Old Mole is master of “is”) when you’ve red one you’ve red ’em all. Muskrat we call them in America swooning at their naked tails their overdose of phermones. Sweet skunk. When Atlantis rises in 2012 you’ll see the labyrinth of our affections writ large upon earth like pages tatoo’d on the backs of gazelles. *** Alphabet Soup Tolstoy worried does the world need my so-called masterpieces or would borshch be more appropriate? Rumi called his own poetry tripe: unpleasant to prepare but a nice stew for honored guests. The message as in fairy tales a dollop of sour cream or dash of brandy in the gravy: not really nutritious per se but savoring of subtextural subversion. The conquest of bread means dunking it–soaking up emanations with it–sodden with revolutionary futurity but still most definitely, dear Alice, “Jam Today.” *** Luddite Steganography De Nerval demanded we seize back the secret of the hieroglyphs from those sinister Illuminati who subvert every text with their fetishism for alienated significances–& therefore ended up hung with the girdle of Cleopatra by Freemasonic thugs from a gaslamp. During the Paris Commune hot air balloons escaped the Siege over Prussian lines with messages for the outside world & carrier pigeons ported coded notes back to the City in the first-ever use of micro-daguerrotype. The initial step would be total destruction of the Internet. *** Anarchy Comix Popeye was a Populist–a one-man maritime IWW–the Billy Budd of proletarian subconsciousness–POW & screw the ideology. I yam what I yam & thass all I yam or as Nietzsche said Become more like yourself–eat cher spinach. Drink your Tiger Tea like Krazy Kat a potent strain of nip that turns timid Kat into Kop bashing hero or heroine depending on your p.o.v. Shirk work with Major Hoople & escape the trivial quotidianity of Kapital with Little Nemo. *** The Mexican Ambassador Drunk in Dublin Give me rain & I’ll churn out visionary politics that would pass for radical in 1911 as Don Juan told Casteneda rain that opens (veil upon veil) into the Nagual a Mexico of colonial baroccocco & Magonismo chocolate & mushrooms a la Leonora Carrington or B. Travern or Antonin Artaud an Ireland where Beuys Scouts camp at Tuatha De Danaan mounds in soft weather–pre-Celtic Atlantis damp in the way pearls are damp Jim Larkin the Limerick Soviet Douanier Rousseau jungle scenes: anarcho-supernaturalism an anti-ideology for rainy minds. *** Phalanstery (for Chapman, Kansas) L. Frank Baum was a Swedenborgian what’s the matter with Kansas why can’t we have a Swedenborgian Militia something to fend off FEMA & the National Guard next time a tornado flattens grain elevators like Tarot trump cards in what we like to call Prairie Restoration with a vengeance. This could be our next bohemia–a landscape too boring for redevelopment–antithesis of all highway tourist hells or utopian traces of commodity. OZ is Blake for infants. Perhaps disaster will be our new revolution. — Peter Lamborn Wilson
July-August ’08