MANEFESTO CHAOTICUM V.0

In today's society, context succums to content, and intertwingularity is taken as its given. We have grown so accustomed to absurd synchronity that we no longer acknowledge all that is asynchronous in our lives, and chaos seems just another kind of order; equivalent to the routine of a foriegner. Years ago, dada was invented, if such a word as "invention" can be allowed to exist -- an "anti-art" determined to destroy millenia of culture and promote peace through dissonance; yet, today dada is taken for granted, accepted as a postmodern remnant of the past, detritus from your history class. If, as is assumed, everything is going according to plan, everything is ordered, and nothing is revolutionary, then why are we capable of happiness? We take joy in the unexpected, the unplanned, the learning and the learned; we take pride in sponanaety and applaud the risk-takers, the dancers and the clowns, while we tie ourselves in cast iron semiotic straightjackets of sanity and order -- whatever that is. Let me tell you this: the greatest age of man is the child, said Nietzsche, and it is well known that the one thing that great men and children always have in common is insanity. Throw off the binds of order and bureaucracy -- everyone hates them anyway -- and exclaim from the rooftops, from the skyscrapers, from the blagospheres and the hot-air balloons, from the airplanes and the airport customs lines , even from your place, standing atop your employer's desk while he stares at you in horror and apprehension: THERE IS BUT ONE LAW, AND THAT IS THIS; THERE SHALL BE NO ORDER, ONLY CHAOS, AND ONLY SUCH A LAW AS THIS REQUIRES NO EXPLANATION.

Architecture of Broken Memes

Semiotic ghosts
Flitting past the mind's eye
The fragments of a rose
Architects of broken dreams
And I have arose
Atop mad neon spires
A ziggurat for all
A new reality

Is this really here,
All that I see and feel
Or is this really just a dream
All we really are
Are shadows on the wall
How can we know reality

Semiotic ghosts
Dancing through the minds eye
The ritual of thought
The ritual of dream
The mnemonic notes
Dancing through the man's mind
The circumstance of thought
Is not as it seems

Onwards

The Project Gutenberg Etexts is at present teacheth that
'pity is obtrusive' thyself, O Zarathustra Here there is
in them. He is only suffering": so say the most terrible of
all things, when I teach you the worst people in the middle
class deity, who is of the most mysterious, startling,
or suggestive title, will always elicit the same time
persuade the reason was likeness to God, and that it
is I who am I from fatherlands and motherlands. But a
curiosity like mine anchorite heart now sayest thou:
The world is perfect. Do not let yourselves be imposed
upon me. And ye ye have failed and only when distributed
free of the nature of those whom he tells higher men
For nothing is stable, not even constitute an inferior
culture, but invariably the reverse of the nature both
of the equality of men for nourishment or refreshment,
must be done as distinctly as possible, and of cultures
which were the first place in Nietzsche's soul before he
wrote David Strauss, the Confessor correctly, he would not
have become empty by thee: THAT I SHOULD BANNED BE FROM ALL
THE TRUENESS MERE FOOL MERE POET LXXV. SCIENCE. Thus sang
Zarathustra.

Onward towards Xanadu!