Alan Sondheim on Sat, 20 May 2000 23:05:18 +0200 (CEST)

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[Nettime-bold] Filmophobe



Personne n'est parfait.

Who is an intellectual in this culture? Who speaks for whom? What is the
role of theory? What does it mean to be engaged? What does it mean to


Who is excluded by what means? Who owns the words I speak? What does it
mean to be locked out? What does it mean to starve? What does it mean to
dream of dying?

Vedette invitee

What do we do to crash your language? What does it mean to steal your
words? How can we shut you up and force you to listen? Why do you think
you have any answers at all? Beyond your cash, why do you think you
have the right to exist? Why do you think you even know the questions?

Le regard

How can we stop your look at the surface of the skin? How can we make
ourselves invisible? How can we violate your robbed speech? How can we
destroy so that we may speak?

Silence, on tourne!

Don't tell me when to speak. Your academy is alive and well. It will die
only with destruction. You will hear only when you are destroyed, when the
blood screams in your ears.

Ecran divise

There is no split screen; there are only bodies, tied, held in bondage;
there are only holes and ears held open by force; there is only emptiness
and death waiting in the wings.

Deux ou trois choses que je sais de

You talk as if we were stupid. You talk in our absence, fill our bodies
with words as if you were the revolution. You stifle any revolution, flay
our bodies in revolt, wear our skins. You are only good in our disguise. 


This film is a catastrophe. The extras remain outside. You brush the hair
out of each other's eyes. You have eyes only for each other. You fuck
power, not bodies. You believe in truth on the bodies of others.

Film de route ou d'errance

You travel safely from assignation to assignation. You pride yourself in
your set speech, your appearance. You ignore the road-kill. We place wires
across the road, you will catch us in your headlights, you will be


You will continue forever. The wires are a trick in the emulsion. They
catch nothing. You continue to speak; in our worst dreams, we do not dream
of your destruction. That is our calling: to applaud you. In our worst

Fin d'un enchantement, le retour a la realite

You are broadband, you are almost real. The film has come to a close; the
theater has burned, there are no replacement parts. At the table, destroy,
she said; no one listened; someone disconnected.


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