Mark de Rosario
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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             Mark de Rosario 
 
SLOW TIME  
 
And yes there are still poets .  
 
And yes, there's still time.... 
 
Still time.  
 
to listen to these poets is to unlearn the confusion of poetry with inner life , Reactive Mind jabber, the voice that speaks to you, AS you. Inner Dialogue.... Monkey on your back, I call it Alien Parasite Entity, APE, it's everything embarrassing, sickening and shameful about you, replaying forever on inner mind screen, it calls itself you and installs itself in your space... it mimics you... Pretty soon you can't tell the difference, you can barely move, read, think, speak, it says it's you.... You look in the mirror and recognise it....  
 
 
You know what the problem is? 
 
Too much excitement. It drives us to distraction.  
 
next time, next thing, give me more, give me two at once, you want a cigarette and realise you are already smoking one, it's all junk, confusing desire with acquisitiveness, desire with lack, strange to call it consumption if you think about it, since we don't digest or metabolize it, it just fills us with the need for more, Burroughs is right: junk as the commodity-in-itself, it's whatever steals our slow time from us......  
 
Too much...  
 
Work time ---- there's never enough, all the urgencies, deadlines, twitches, nerves and daydreams, and then all the NARCOMA, zoned out in (front of) the box, zombie twin of the labouring anxiety robot ---- 
 
 
OUTSIDE, OUTSIDE, which is further away than any external world, closer than any internal world. OUTSIDE, the cheapest possible holiday, OUTSIDE your own misery, it's the longest possible journey, you can't make it in space, go to the ends of the earth if you like, you won't have got anywhere, you won't have gone anywhere, if it's still you, you know I can't get it out of my head, I can't get out of my head 
 
..... and something Penman wrote to me, something Derek Jarman had taken from Bachelard: the TV as hearth, as replacement flicker, and where once we stared into the flames, hallucinating, telling stories, now we look into the box, into second hand electric dreams, gossip, someone else's INSIDE stories.  
 
And we talk and exchange tales only afterwards, did you see that? and they are someone else's tales, No-one's, did you see? when all the time it was about learning not to see, not to talk shhhhhhhhh, you're distracting me from my distraction.... locked inside, entranced, exit signs hidden.... 
 
White magical hearth and home, protected Inner circle, alarm clock, all the power totems, aerial, satellite dish, pylon.... Day of the Triffids, vegetation in suburbia, couch potato tubers, invasion of the body snatchers, {too much sitting has ruined my body}, thumb culture, Pod people replication.... 
 
If you had an open fire, would you watch TV? 
 
You ask about the inhuman and the divine, and I say, don't ask me, most of the time, I don't know, I can't get out of my head, it can't get to me, most of the time I'm an INSIDER. You ask me about the inhuman and the divine and I say: Spinoza. Not Marx, not Feuerbach, not Freud, not even Nietzsche. Forget all that stuff about projection, about the divine being something from inside our heads. It's the other way around, the divine is OUTSIDE, GOD=the cosmos, not a person, not anything anthropomorphic...  
 
They know this in Voodou, you know it when you are carried away by sound, Oliver knows it when he's becoming animal, becoming bird...  
 
it is about hearing seeing touching smelling as easy as that, as impossible as that.... with my numb fingers, burned out and frozen.... cold so cold from McLuhanaesthetic - overstimulation, you see, leads to a compensatory freezing of affect, the organism collapses into its shell, character armour bristling, spine like a frozen jack.... So much being beamed at you that only RM can run it.... HEAT death of your receptors....  
 
Burroughs says it's a matter of shutting down Internal Dialogue, shutting down your I-D.... Just you try to do it.... It's not easy... 
 
And, no not it's not a retreat into nature as opposed to culture, absolutely not, and not beauty, not the picturesque, but HAECCEITY, hicket nunc, here-now, now-here,  
 
it's where Ballard takes us, where Burroughs takes us, where Tarkovsky takes us, where Kubrick takes us, where Blade Runner takes us, it's where Oliver takes us, it's where Luka takes us, it's where Vocalcity takes us, it's where Junior Boys take us, it's where Miles takes us and the TIME in which they do it..... 
 
it's the TIME they give to us 
 
and this is the real meaning of Time travel ---- getting out of next-time into now-time ----- No time like the present ---- Now time of the present --- slowtime ---- 
 
TIME as individuality - THIS time, this particular time, which will never come again, your face, your hair blowing in the wind, fleeting smile, sun at just that point in the sky, gulls dispersing, tide high, and it could never be repeated,  
 
'haecceities': singularities composed of animals, climates, affects, nonsubjectified individualities 
 
'It should not be thought that a haecceity consists solely of a decor or backdrop that situates subjects, or of appendages that hold things and people to the ground ... It is the wolf itself, and the horse, and the child, that cease to become subjects to become events, in assemblages that are inseparable from an hour, a season, an atmosphere, an air, a life.' ('Becoming-Intense, Becoming-Animal, Becoming-Imperceptible', A 
Thousand Plateaus, 262)  
 
They are when and where - whenever, neverwhere - we are lured out of the chronic tic-time of everyday busy-ness (what happens next), out into 'nonpulsed time', and out there, time distends, thickens, we are no longer rushing somewhere else, we're aching to linger.... 
 
Film examples: 
 
Nothing happens, in Kubrick, Marker, Tarkovsky, 
 
Or rather nothing happens narratively.  
 
they are taking us out beyond the URGENCIES of the everyday, and they are showing us that everything - the dripping and flow of water, the gentle breath of the wind - is already an event, teeming....  
 
When we are drawn into the Tarkovsky-trance, into the Kubrick-trance, into the Marker-trance, these out-trances, our organism's hunger for overstimulus circumvented, our pulse slackened, the cuts - so slow and drawn-out by 'normal' standards - can seem tantalisingly quick, it's no longer about 'story' (what happens next? ) but what is happening NOW.... NOW as an event... 
 
And Luka said this to me: "best way of easing yourself into slowtime i've found, go library, pick a large, hardback book of well reproduced painting or photgraphs by someone interesting, de chirico, robert frank whatever, probably best to choose some figurative, easier to get inside it, go home, sit down, choose a picture, sit with it, gaze at it, experiment with your focus, see what catches yr eye until it opens itself out and becomes alive. switch of ALL critical faculties, try to get inside it, enter the landscape." 
 
and that has been the biggest mistake, thinking it was about exciting passions, speeding past, when it's about calmness, still time, movement and rest, not convalesecence, LESSNESS, not restlessness 
 
without bad dreams you can be bound in a nutshell and count yourself king of infinite space 
 
So how do you stop the bad dreams? 
 
And Luka said this: "it will work, slow time is there always, just another current to be taken up by, and i'm the same as you, i'm usually jittery and wired, too much caffine, too much nerves and too much stimulus, but it's always there. here's another good method. stand on the bank of the thames, look at the water, first you won't see much other than a strip of grey green, keep looking, notice the way the wind moves over it, the reflections from the sky/clouds above, the incessant movement, shapes which form diperse twist contort reshape like smoke, the more you look the more you see, it can get quite amazing, water is amazing, if looking at the surface of the thames can't slow you down and calm yr nerves nothing can.  
things open out, reveal themselves"    
 
 
 
    
                                                            


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