Entries from February 2015

PRAXIS presents DATACIDE @ SUBVERSIV e.V. Berlin 06-03-2015

Subversiv_2015_poster_web

BREAKCORE – HARDCORE – EXPERIMENTAL – NOISE

Ǥ⁄Я⁄M̴⁄ΛΛᖬ₭
http://grmmsk.tumblr.com/
https://totstellen-grmmsk.bandcamp.com/

SAXENHAMMER ( ( this set will be different from the NoiseAngriff-set on wednesday the 4.3.)
https://www.mixcloud.com/SXHammer/

ARI NEV & AEKRE
https://soundcloud.com/cellinfadel
https://soundcloud.com/arinev

VOJEET
https://soundcloud.com/vojeet

H-KON
https://soundcloud.com/h-kon

ELECTRIC KETTLE
https://soundcloud.com/electrickettle

LYNX
https://www.mixcloud.com/NOISEANGRIFF/lynx-noiseangriff-53-2714/

ZOMBIEFLESHEATER
https://www.mixcloud.com/Zombieflesheater/

NO RACISM – NO SEXISM – NO NATIONALISM

http://datacide-magazine.com/
http://praxis.c8.com/
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Praxis-Records/206908779365486
https://www.facebook.com/pagesDatacide

When Will We Leave the 20th Century?

Ape_work6forWEB

When Will We Leave the 20th Century? An Interview with Kafka’s Ape.

Written into life by Franz Kafka, nowadays the legendary primate has had enough with impersonating humans. Oscar Mole caught up with the hairy recluse.

OM: So what about that famous report you gave to an Academy? Captured on the Gold Coast and imprisoned in a cage, you had been taken to Europe where your only route of escape was to become a walking, talking, spitting, hard-drinking member of the human race.

APE: Recall that when my report was given in 1917, the first world war was raging. Millions of human beings had been coerced into an orgy of killing and proving Homo sapiens to be vastly superior to gorillas and chimps when it comes to mass murder. Even then I felt ambivalent about becoming human.

At the time, I had no other way out, yet I had to come up with one, because I could not go on living without it. That was the point of the report. I was worried that the Academy would not fully understand what I meant by a ‘way out’. I used the phrase in its most ordinary and fullest sense. I deliberately did not say freedom. As I said in the report: ‘freedom is something that men all too often dupe themselves with’.

What I had discovered was that my jailors needed to see me as non-human in order to justify locking me up. They had to believe I was inferior, so my way out was to become their equal. I mimicked my guards, studied their mannerisms and behaviour. How could they keep something locked up that looked and acted just like they did?

I mastered their language. After I was out I was able to move between different roles I encountered in human society with ease. I knew I could go anywhere, do anything, just by impersonating the right person. Even the Academy wanted to let me in.
[Read more →]

The Bodyshop

bodyshop for datacide

Spent Nuke cartridges, expired bots and other assorted trash littered the street in section 56. Somehow Fiona and Gil had found their way down to the lower levels. Fiona had wanted to show Gil where she had grown up and then they had just started wandering, lost in the moment.

Gil complained he didn’t like going anywhere they didn’t have teleportation facilities. Fiona knew he didn’t like section 56 because it was where all the perps, half breeds, and disjunkts hung out. The fact he put on a brave face meant he cared.

‘You’ve got that look’, said Gil. ‘What is it?’

‘Nothing’. She said

‘What is it?’

‘Nothing. I’m just happy’.

Suddenly out of the doors of a particularly dilapidated and soiled sales outlet ran a man clutching his hand and shrieking at the top of his voice. Gil rushed over to see if he was all right. The man kept screeching, Gil grabbed at his wrist. The man stopped screaming, and looked down at his hand, Gil did the same thing. There was a loud bang as the hand exploded, taking the two men with it. Fiona was covered in bodily fluids and viscera. She did not scream or weep, but stared at the bloody mass that used to be the love of her life.

Two men dressed in mutated lab outfits ran out into the street, and dived into the entrails. Body parts meant creds and Barrington Spliessenhausen was under no illusion that unless they got their hands on some fresh meat he could kiss his latest upgrade goodbye. Krun was just hungry, he quickly found what he was looking for and it was not long before he was happy again, busy masticating on a testicle. A stern attractive woman was close behind her colleagues. [Read more →]

Incorrect Classification Possible

Untitled

Maybe we could
be lithe with the music
be in its
unknowable tones
as substrate
For ever
diasporic
as valve
skin tip & shank bone
Be instruments
instinctmeants
of agitant life
from whose
corner cones
breath would push
to inadvent a practicum
with vegal nerves

Untitled

Glance off the flow blocks
Reconvene on inner edges
Consider that ideals
come through to us from
our strategic denials
Decide again to chip away
at the authority babies
of distilled popularity
Recombine our selves anew
as kindly vulnerable rejects
Sip at water iron and flame
[Read more →]