Kenji Siratori: Cybergothic Writing

Posted by Aspasia Stephanou on March 30, 2009 in Blog tagged with

 

Language is a virus from outer space.

William S. Burroughs

 All true language is incomprehensible, like the chatter of a beggar’s teeth.

Antonin Artaud

 Trying to flee the binary I enter the chromozone which is not one
XXYXXYXXYXXYXXYXXYXXYXXYXXYXXYXXYXXYXXYXX
genderfuck me baby
resistance is futile

entice me splice me map my ABANDONED genome as your project
artificially involve me
i wanna live forever
upload me in yr shiny shiny PVC future

SUCK MY CODE

Subject X says transcendence lies at the limit of worlds, where now and now, here and elsewhere, text and membrane impact.

Where truth evaporates Where nothing is certain There are no maps

The limit is NO CARRIER, the sudden shock of no contact, reaching out to touch but the skin is cold…

The limit is permission denied, vision doubled, and flesh necrotic.

From the bitch mutant manifesto, VNS Matrix

 
In the Cyborg Manifesto Haraway argues that,

Writing is pre-eminently the technology of cyborgs, etched surfaces of the late twentieth century. Cyborg politics is the struggle for language and the struggle against perfect communication, against the one code that translates all meaning perfectly, the central dogma of phallogocentrism. That is why cyborg politics insist on noise and advocate pollution, rejoicing in the illegitimate fusions of animal and machine (Haraway, 1995, 176).

Language and its demolition has always been a central preoccupation of the avant-garde and modernist writers. In the same vein, Gothic literature and surrealism, following the dream world tried to experiment with words and weird associations of linguistic signs. Beats and the cut up techniques of Burroughs and Gysin, écriture feminine and writing from the body were ways to fight against patriarchy’s sovereignty. The blood writing of Acker and the bloody space of signification in the horrific and erotic texts of Clive Barker signify the importance of writing, creating and identifying with a subject that ignores or maybe never evidenced the primal scene.

 
The most controversial writing that has contaminated my brain cells is Blood Electric by Kenji Siratori, a cyberpunk/cybergothic/bizarro novel using a HyperText Markup Language that becomes a terrifying machine unleashed against any existing linguistic tradition. It is a viral language that does not signify or only signifies through its hallucinogenic, murderous ambiguity.

In Blood Electric, Siratori blends cyborgian politics- stressing the becoming machine of Tetsuo, vampiric-viral-blood desiring machines, the body-the cadaver- the flesh in its demolition and regeneration through a language that is nonsense but highly infectious. A network of highly coded signs in their unexpected viral contamination of meaning. The “pure internal organ:beast:: of self//The miracle that I was cursed to be chaotic>” (Blood Electric, 14). It seems that the narrator is imprisoned in an order that seeks to escape, a language that needs to be annihilated, destroyed and reconstructed in a cybergothic language that has no origin: “that lost sperm to the desire of self of the consciousness that flows with absence//The womb area machine that she ruined/” (14).

 Siratori’s work is still an enigma, a weird experiment of  “wild phantasies of cosmic rape”, “mental derangement” (108), a techno-junky’s scream in vacuum…In his musical experiments  (http://www.myspace.com/kenjisiratoriandcrude), Siratori engages in a similar way with avant-garde techniques, gothic, and noise music.

In the video that follows, Siratori collaborates with digital artist Japi Honoo in order to transfer in music and images the coming to life/consciousness of an AI/ Adam Doll (Blood Electric):

 

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TzUiy1Vd_aE

 

Whether revolutionary experiments in language, fiction or music succeed is not that important. It is I think, the terrorism and the murderous linguistic assault- the experiment in itself, the opening space that questions relentlessly the face of Oedipus…

 

 

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