Ultravioleta docs

2009-12-05T15:42:00.000-08:00

2009-09-07T14:54:00.001-07:00

2008-11-02T08:40:00.000-08:00

2008-10-12T16:58:00.000-07:00

That fluffy non matter did not exist was not a help to me.

2008-03-14T13:41:00.000-07:00

2008-01-05T16:11:00.000-08:00

Ladybug Honey

Battles and scattering
Calibrated
To assess the meant

And switch to
Its airwaves until
Raining down obtains
The elongation of our nights

Already known to be a storm
Already not right

Time was Orion
Trumped Iota
But now ladies

More like notes than days
Scribbled into the cyclic
Explode the odd years
Open the even

Horizon sky spot story
Or series of spots
As those here arrayed
Wet with

2007-12-15T09:12:00.001-08:00

Lution's log

The anatomy of a time fly comprises organs whose functions are not fully understood though the poisonous effect of time has long been established. That their eyes see more than ours, causing the range of their knowledge to be unlimited, was postulated early on by one of those later called flyboys. Flyboys consider it a mark of honor to be more or less mad – a mark of what one might call professional distinguishment. Eddie is one, of course. In restrospect, one can see him as an incredible innocent or, perhaps more to the point, a credible one. Sad to say, this view requires experiences that so alter the mind of the viewer as to render him much farther gone, and that is saying a lot, than Eddie himself.

2007-12-14T10:41:00.000-08:00

Extinction Coefficient

may damsel horse dragon
flat though exact
whose intended usage
untraced Neolithic fauna
baffles the salamander

the fly lowers herself
where green might gather
amphibian skulls appear
bookworms fade

light grows again
night mummified
scattered among icy
touch-me-not

flown now or
fooled by perception
into being false
she to bleed
he to sleep and read

the music of the animals
primitive mosses whose surviving
circles of chalk
draw us out

2007-07-21T16:11:00.000-07:00

Dome of Parphar. Outsize. Includes italic, metallic & pre-Martian arches. Precludes lack of air, time itself, gaps in space. Fate. Blue hue & cry. Situation. There. Then. Images of the Escape ingrained in the visible facets. Some to the eye naked. Some not. Subplots compromised. Narrative subsumed. Glassy Cakes the only character left. Sum not scene. The only viable conclusion. Dreamproof. Pot tested. Bafflement extra.

Dayv Nemo

UVdocs 24 Alan Halsey im.; txt L. Moriarty

Dayv's cat. item 9, UVdocs 12

2007-07-07T17:14:00.000-07:00

An Idealized Light Curve, ref. Halsey, A. (Sub)liminal manf. L.M. Psychodynamic flame frames Behemoth. Splattered matter. Battle. Overstated animicule reticulates 72 squares married to a year of days, dot grids, nonstop blot parades. Plot predevised. Magnitude 5 shit storm intimated. Inner trappings. Outer doubt. Parallel problem solved. Small moon in 9th box. Devilish density guaranteed. No limits meant. None taken. Lies as usual. Nothing forsaken. No love lost. Worth all you have got. Cheap at the price. Detail of battle.

Zed says

2007-06-30T16:36:00.000-07:00

The demands of the 2D beings are reasonable. Their desire anguished. Their eyes are bright but their lines dark. Their sad love is not for us.

That they want more than our agreement is apparent and yet what do they want? Is there really a ‘they’ in this case? There is certainly no ‘we,’ as we have often said. And what about their dogs? What do they want?

Dayv's Books

2007-05-20T15:02:00.000-07:00

Blue, by A. H., historical fiction/thriller, will produce at least a fit and a half of distance, 240 standard pages comprise four 60-page cross-sections. The usual dimensional add-ons included. Suggestion in the main sequence of disappearance is undercut by other data and the plot grid. Blood, violence and death suggested. Depth. Planets, planetesimals, stars, starlets, bugs (mostly time flys). Bodily fluids. Wings, fins and other appendages. Articulated tentacles and inarticulate ones. Slight travel damage. Original cover uvdocs#15 by Alan Halsey. Priced well for the right traveler.

The Scattering, by Zed, Edward, (im., A.H.), adventure. Preowned. Mint. Parsecs are invoked guaranteeing at least a pot of thought travel. 500 standard pages, a thousand in 3D. Barriers float opening onto islands, beings, sails, snails, currents, charts, eclipses, elipses, foci, fossils, fish, systems, organs, destinies, destinations and foregone conclusions. Note the IRC. There is a tear in the grid exactly equivalent to the one in the universe. Direct contact with constituent beings assumed to be desired by buyer. Experience recommended but not required. Stardust jacket (uvdocs#17) by Alan Halsey. Priced to sell.

D. Nemo

2007-05-19T15:23:00.000-07:00

I am just a baby, baby, but I know more than you think I know. That bad star I was born under is overhead again, darling. It can't be me and it isn't you calling. You aren't a boy anymore, Otio. And I'm not your mama.

Mori

uvdocs#10 by Alan Halsey

2007-04-28T15:54:00.000-07:00

Dear Mom,

I am not sure you exist unless you’re a Martian which is possible but then so what? It’s Earth I’m leaving really. Only. They tell me I’m a child and a Zed but they have no idea who I am. And a prodigy. No children on Mars not born there because kids can’t sustain themselves in thought or some shit like that. Fucking grownups with the same lines over and over. I could write circles around them if I liked circles. But I do it by remembering, Mom. I remember what didn’t happen, what’s about to happen and everything in between. Like yourself. Mother of nothing.

Too Far Gone

Inside the poem

By rote to know

Not to go

Or go on to

Uncle Zero

Aka Stendahl

Like me Zed

Child poet

Love

Otio

2007-02-18T12:38:00.000-08:00

Nahid,
So I’m back but I couldn’t find you and I’m out in the country because I got something like a distress call or it could have been a story poem. It was hard to tell but there was a lot of distress. I’m not sure why I get these calls. I swear I’m not working for the government any more. So at first I couldn’t find anyone but then there was Cap tricked out in this weird way as if he expected to be the target of an investigation or at least that’s what he said. But you know how difficult it is to get anything straight out of him. He just sucks up all the information wherever he is and starts in with the usual complaints. He used the word they and went on about a series of times and examples of the kind of trouble he feels we are in. I said that it was impossible to follow this kind of mechanical thinking and so he made a visual display, but as you can see it doesn’t really help. And finally I had to go because even I can’t stay out there that long. I think he was having an epiphany or there was a suggestion of ironic distance. It was pretty bad. Who reads these things anyway? And who can say what part of the past is relevant to the problems we are having on this planet? And who is Mu?

More soon,
Stell

uvdocs#8 by Alan Halsey

2007-02-04T15:28:00.000-08:00

Stell,
It'a clear that moment has been opened up by what is happening but I am afraid I am losing track. There is dictation and trance and then something like a travelogue or marketing brochure. I am lured, blurred and departed. Time flies are everywhere. I can’t find Eddie and then I find him and he smiles in that way he has. His dislocative panic attacks go on or there is one long one. I have never judged him. This isn’t about that. I am not frantic.
Right now,
Nahid
p.s. One is attached. Attacked.

The chart of the heart recounts the dangers of thought to the traveler whose breath is successively taken away and returned and whose cells are possessed by apparent creatures. Here memory has the same effect as ultraviolet light when it hits you outside the dome. The shadows cast then are comprised of pure time. A deadly pattern consumes you like a job but more condensed. It is chaosified in the sense that each atom has its own set of priorities. Each dot is a knot. Blots appear on the timetable of your train of thought. The headache is persuasive, the overlay the layover. You stop. Time flies gorge on the days. They collapse into moment. The prepaid return occurs in retrospect. You wake finding you are already back at work and are reading this.

uvdocs#5 Alan Halsey

2007-01-31T08:48:00.000-08:00

10 for

The word boys

Hear us machines

Rocket over whose

Mechanical entity means

I Cap am

My own destiny

In the breach

You are ME

As I am

Cap Called

2007-01-27T15:32:00.000-08:00

We are drawn

The horizon draws us

The way it happens is that you become unclear. A bright black morning takes you. There is fear and panic like our moons Phobos and Daimos. Phobos is doomed they say but you see it on the horizon every day, rising and setting in its narrow course. They are captives. It is said. You become one also.

As with the I, at first you seem to die. But then you find it’s not that but this -- a pure form called the old cold. People come back from it. Or least they seem to come back. They seem like people.

It’s never just one

We are drawn

Out & down

Stendahl

2007-01-19T12:17:00.000-08:00

Time Flies

A crack in the glass over Parphar resulted in a release of flies out of and into the dome over the city. Billions of them drifted down into town. At first they were thought to be volcanic ash from Olympic Mons in spite of the impossible distance involved but were later identified as biostatic debris, the affect of which is well known to be a sometimes terminal melancholy. This melancholy, along with the unscheduled rain that was authorized to wash them away, caused a wave of contemplative verse among poets which in turn generated a severe time storm. A deadly wave of nostalgia hit particularly hard in the Spectacular area, recently affected by political and philosophical unrest. Citizens there are said to feel like their hearts are laid out on their café tables for all to see.

A broadside was circulated of a poem called The Flies along with the rumor that the poem and, in fact, the event were comments on our recent visitors. The author is said to have denied the connection. On closer examination it was noted that the poem does not contain any words, relying for effect on image and intimation. It has entered the canon immediately. Several imitations, a diagram and one commentary have appeared.

The storm, however, rages on.

Stendahl

Alan Halsey

et al.

They are more alive than we are.

2007-01-12T09:30:00.000-08:00

2007-01-08T14:38:00.000-08:00

more T

3 lbs mugwort
25 lbs tea
3 lbs honey
5 boxes beeswax
bolt papyrus
gal. sepia

Tinia’s patterns have changed. She is more linear. When we speak I expect to be confused but she is quite clear. Her skin shines with the new lines. She is gearing up to be gone in a way that doesn’t require supplies as much as the sheer force of inertia.

Her current thinking is analogic. The dangers are denotative as when a sudden derangement of thinking blows up in your face. Always a danger anywhere but here an everyday occurrence.

More ink I think she is saying somewhere in my head. And tea. Always more tea.

Dayv

2007-01-05T12:45:00.000-08:00

Stell,
Not much time. It’s hard to know what to think. Eddie seems to be reliving all past wars. It’s like he’s not on the planet or too much on it. He has become Stendahl more than Eddie. I can’t keep track. I have the sense that I am fading though I have never felt more real. At least the sex is still great.
Right now,
Nahid

2007-01-03T08:53:00.000-08:00

Las descubiertas

The planet is strung out, coming down like an old junkie with no new ideas. That we are here at all, the Occupation, as we have finally learned to call it, once seemed natural or at least inevitable. It was open-ended, but no longer. Many of us will leave or have left already. Others have come to understand the cold. The I among us are gone, but there are those who have the knack of the old power. Some have gone past the glass into the flats of the Utopian Desert. There there are caves, waves of stone, roads made by meteors, holes in the hoarfrost, doors and floors that have grown there but seem made. They are like graves.

Las descubiertas are there. They are patterns. They think and create thought. The I could read them but they have been illegible to most humans until now. Now they have demands. They have needs.

Stendahl

2006-12-17T15:08:00.000-08:00

Stell,
It's Tinia's new form that worries me, though I know she is doing it for the money or, you know, the time. It is so unlike her to rely on mere parallel alliterative connotation. She risks falling out of thought -- assuming she is trying to get anywhere, which is hard to assume as I can never see her. I believe she can see me and of course anyone can see Eddie.

He knows of the danger. The dangers. He tells me everything when we meet in the afternoons. There has been talk of his taking a leadership role though he is not a poet. He says that, by definition, everything he writes is prose. I don't agree but we don't talk about it. You know how he is. He has been working with individuals, groups,coteries -- whatever. He has formed several movements recently by putting people in touch. He has the run of the cafes.

Things are happening very rapidly now. I have to go.
Right now,
Nahid

2006-12-13T17:42:00.000-08:00

of tea with excess

poison to the system

accelerant into acceleration

not unlike the present

of sea with green or eyes

the trace in space the size of

seeming when a part from

or around the seams

seen to be identical with

the old reason for the new caffeine

synthesized whose affinity with

the letter for the object

the substance of the argument with which

I have no argument nor it with me

also not lost to reflection

2006-12-12T15:33:00.000-08:00

heard in color(s)

mental gatherings

noted

uninterrupted sight line

flight line ditto

paper shortage unearthed

where once a forest

not sure if event or object

sferics directed outward

far out

a saying only or

song line

suspicious confluence of bees, notes, music

the word boys

saturnalium

2006-12-09T13:29:00.000-08:00

Tinia,
it's not the additive but the representative you should worry about and it's not even that -- but something purely physical like eating that keeps you from the suffering you know to be life. forget the tea.

of course you will be overtaken by life and finally won't be apart from suffering but in the center of it which is the consolation of the dying and of those who grieve for the dead and can't be consoled.

we know that reading is action and that thought can carry us but we don't know where to go with our thinking.

more than others your body is formed by your thought. I should know, do know and remind you of it.

you have nowhere to go but the pleasure of this thinking. it is your duty and your sentence.

forget the tea and the additives. forget fiction and eat something. this is not a metaphor. you know how I feel about those. and about you.

Stell

2006-11-28T13:27:00.000-08:00

with notebook and packet of tea

scene

it’s is not the tea but a fiction additive

psychotropic

large box of protinos

later at the cafe

Tinia So-Called

2006-11-21T16:53:00.000-08:00

A monumental tapestry of thought appeared over the city yesterday when Veterans of the Battle of Parphar gathered in the Spectacular Cafe for what is believed to be the first nonliterary event in recent memory. Edward Zed, popularly known as Stendahl, spoke at length of the need for constitutional reforms and new genres. Zed said the dependence on parallel gesture, recovered speech and viral detritus that is now common has allowed an environment of repetition and esthetic bad faith to become even more toxic than the previous reign of hegemonic irony.

There was a move out of the cafe into Spectral Square and group dream. Damage was minor. No government response was discernable.

2006-11-21T16:51:00.000-08:00

2006-11-20T15:53:00.000-08:00

de tryte positive affect filter

transtextual fall-out

vamp road instability break

archives detour

still gone heart drive

vast array arising

robbie against again

graphemity among numbers

7 at 5 past 9 finitim

present company exclusion waiver

a pot along pyxis

Cap wolfed here wer

2006-11-20T15:51:00.000-08:00

2006-11-20T15:05:00.000-08:00

Stell,

I write to keep going. It helps to know where you are. The music of the machines invades everything. I'm mostly over the nausea though I still get dizzy and sometimes ecstatic. You know how it is here. The monsters didn't cause the time problem though we still blame them or at least Eddie does.

More often than not Eddie does without me but I am still crazy about him -- maybe because it is perfect to be loved and let alone.

He schedules his epiphanies.

Sometimes I think I am trying to reconstruct Ultravioleta one letter at a time.

And that last dream. What can I say?

right now,
Nahid

2006-11-20T15:03:00.000-08:00

Lee Bontecou, Untitled, 1997

2006-11-20T14:42:00.000-08:00

Mars actual

The answer to the question of whether we are animals remains the same in the absence of the monsters. They claimed only to care for us and yet we thought of them as predators. Think of them.

What can one claim about our presence here? what hope?

Do animals ever want to die? Perhaps the fact that they don't is what makes them animals.

I heard it before I saw it. The dead thing I saw today. Who knew there were so many flies on this planet?

E. Zed

2006-11-20T14:19:00.000-08:00

Dayv's Daybook

1400 sightings of the I so far today
relocation of the library continues
subcontexting on hold

vellum decay
parchment problem
works on glass slightly cracked

10 lbs of tea
1 honeycomb
new air

Dreamt of Tinia as she was