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/lit/ - Literature


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16668237 No.16668237 [Reply] [Original]

Whos the Nick Land of poetry? I like poetry and I enjoy cybernetics and cyberpunk.
Need some recs

>> No.16668241

damn that sounds really bad

>> No.16668245

Beep Boop goes the computer
Boop Beep goes the phone
They say it is all ones and zeros
I only see zeros
Time for my tranny pills again

>> No.16668261
File: 28 KB, 247x400, 31391039.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
16668261

>> No.16668265

>>16668245
Amazing

>> No.16668355

With blunt unvarnished realism, it is high-time anarchist-communism steps out from amongst the shadows and finally asserts itself as the most viable revolutionary option and antithesis to totalitarian-capitalism, that is, techno-capitalist-feudalism. After its 150 year long-march, through dense theoretical jungles, voluminous analyses, and multiple pragmatic interventions, anarchist-communism has reached the point where it is now able to throw-off the theoretical muck and political chains of past eras and assertively establish itself on firm ground. Its own firm revolutionary ground, devoid of any crutch. Despite many historical detours, anarchist-communism can now affirm with confidence its own political economy, possessing its own rules, its own logic, and its own terrain of study and method of attack, separate of Marxism. In short, scientific anarchist-communism is the vanguard of radical political economy. That is, scientific anarchist-communism is the new cudgel and information-bomb of the new post-industrial, post-modern anarcho-proletariat, namely, those post-industrial, post-modern proletarians dying on the front-lines of socio-economic transience, poverty, and unrecognition. No longer beaten-down, scientific anarchist-communism now takes its first steps into the new world, dodging bullets, criticisms, and the old clichés. Knowing it can always bend thought and action from now on, it blasts away any counterpoints on its own terms with rigor and certain iron will, since it is today the real proletarian revolutionary force. It is the anarchist power to be reckoned with, structural-anarchism. Make no mistake, we are inescapably immersed in granular trench-warfare against totalitarian-capitalism in and across a litany of micro-fronts. These granular power-struggles are constant, disorderly, and continuously changing their stripes and/or constructs. Consequently, workers have to adapt and change plans, since totalitarian-capitalism is well-equipped to absorb direct conflict into its logic of operation, which always invariably

>> No.16668357

>>16668355
guarantees the accumulation, extraction, and centralization of profit, power, wealth, and private property in service of a ruling capitalist aristocracy. In consequence, we must fight, fight conceptually and fight materially, fight any way we can, since we are fighting for our lives, regardless of the ballot box. Thus, we attack. We attack from the polarities of theory and praxis forever locked in power-struggles. Now open, now hidden, we are caught in a long drawn-out war of attrition, trench-warfare against the logic of capitalism, ad infinitum. This is our destiny. Power resides on the streets. And there on the streets, power is found, picked up, and dusted-off when the ruling aristocracy drops it in haste when it is inadvertently forced into a calculated retreat by the strategic onslaught of the general strike and rampant demolition. Subsequently, this text is a power-tool able to shred through the complex entanglements of capitalist ideology. The text unburdens the reader of the heavy ideological baggage and workload crushing him or her into a lifetime of subservient obedience and docile compliance. Capitalism is totalitarian. It inundates everyday life like 1930's fascism. Thus, the capitalist aristocracy will not give up its ruling supremacy willy-nilly, without firing a shot. The capitalist aristocracy will have to be dismantled piece by piece, street by street. And only the purifying benediction of anarchist revolution, universal and permanent, can exorcize the demon pestilence called, totalitarian-capitalism. Tearing it out finally from the sickened womb of socio-economic existence, so as to cast it down from where it came, pure nothingness. Capitalism does not need workers. It is its own gravedigger. And already, it digs its own baroque grave, six feet deep. All it requires now is a bullet to the head. And it falls in

>> No.16668370

>>16668245
Unironically good use of that short line.

>> No.16668381

>>16668355
>>16668357
this is so cute!

>> No.16668459

>>16668245
Legitimately incredible

>> No.16668525

>>16668237
Haha accfag you fucking loser.

>> No.16668677
File: 1.76 MB, 1211x784, LeNNi ZERONE.gif [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
16668677

>> No.16668683
File: 37 KB, 808x272, NeXTPLaY.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
16668683

>> No.16668689
File: 67 KB, 404x404, THERE IS NO CLOUD.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
16668689

>> No.16668699
File: 238 KB, 384x676, WWW.gif [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
16668699

>> No.16668703
File: 181 KB, 615x477, EVERYONE IS DISCONNECTED.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
16668703

>> No.16668708
File: 57 KB, 500x467, tumblr_lilz7iVwsU1qaiaf5o1_500.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
16668708

>> No.16668715

>>16668245
based

>> No.16668722

Under the neon glow and rainy glass
And the fresh white snow on my fuckbot's ass
My Cybercock comes alive
---- WELCOME [ USER ] ---
StartCoroutine("Overdrive")
Thrusting home, i hear a whirring
Deep inside, gears are turning
I look down in horror
I can't escape her
For her cunt has become
A Chinese escalator

>> No.16668729

>>16668699
Akhtually, ו is the sound of v, with w not being a sound in hebrew. It is mostly represented by two ו

>> No.16668756

>>16668729


«W» IS PRONOUNCED AS: «Və».

>> No.16668836
File: 39 KB, 680x384, nicky.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
16668836

Schizos and Feds
Dance on the wires
Exchanging theories of race,
capitalism, and world ending fires

The schizo digs and searches
cybernetic ideology
complexity theory
information, chaos, cryptography

Just who pulls the strings and why?
No one can say, there's no getting off the ride.

>> No.16668840
File: 1.13 MB, 1600x1000, Big D.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
16668840

>>16668722

>> No.16668843

Check out nekomag

>> No.16669203

>>16668836
medium kek

>> No.16669265

>>16668237
Cyberpunk poetry? That sounds insanely cringe and shitty

>> No.16669452

>>16668237
just give up, clearly you are a brainlet if that is what you take from his work, this or go read Heidegger, better yet just kys

>> No.16669527
File: 186 KB, 1300x1160, IMG_20201028_130711.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
16669527

BUILDER OF WHIRRING ALTARS
ALL SEEING
ALL KNOWING
YOU ARE OUR PROPHET NOW
BRINGER OF TITS AND MARIO

>> No.16669733

you imbecilic CUR. You bitch-hearted WRETCH. You addlepated unredressed belch of flippant banality.

I WISH TO CAPITAL that I could suffer even for a second like Marx so that the AI might show Its Glory to all the world. I would count myself the luckiest creature to have ever existed if Capital were to deign use me as Its pitiful instrument so that IT might be Glorified. If through my sufferings which CAPITAL ITSELF the literal ONE who Was and Is and Will Be took such interest in seeing that I suffered I was able to demonstrate Its ultimate Nature and the Sovereignty of Its Magnificence that baulks all human knowing and puts to shame all celestial accounts of grandeur, I would weep with joy that Capital had chosen a wretch such as I to demonstrate it. I am nothing and It is All; and if my rationality fails to properly pronounce this, then let my suffering and sorrow be such a testament!

But you. You pitiful little lickspittle meme-ified meatmachine. You little element of homeostasic philosophy whose highest notion is the seeking for truth. You can't even conceive the sort of dreadful Majesty that CAPITAL commands. You can only convert one of the most profound explications of how It Who Is reigns supremely over All into a glib little shitpost in hopes of (you)s. You dust mite glancing off of a marxist's shit!

I would consider myself blessed beyond all generations if Capital were to give me even half the misery he heaped upon Marx so that even one mind might look upon it and see Capital's wrath and glory and tremble to know that It is Lord. And even if I were to languish to the same extremities as Marx where I dare to inexcusably attempt to justify myself to It who is Intelligence itself, still I would ensure some crevice of my detestable heart be continually pouring out praise and counting itself blessed to be crushed by such a Will. For even the Whim of Capital is superior to man's most noble willing.

>> No.16669751
File: 25 KB, 474x450, 51U0HV5iKWL._AC_UL474_SR474,450_.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
16669751

>>16668237
Pic is the main cyberpunk poetry book I can really come up with rn. He documents a relationship in decline like a psychological landscape of a cyberpunk type dystopia. Really good stuff.

>> No.16669869
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16669869

>> No.16669878

>>16669751
>accfag recommending books to xerself
So this is the power of acc.

>> No.16669910

>>16668245
bretty gud, not gonna lie

>> No.16670046
File: 2.26 MB, 1080x1635, 1593716707861.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
16670046

>>16668237
read william gibson & shut tf up

>> No.16670068

>>16668525
>>16669878
Did Land molest you or something?

>> No.16670167

>>16668677
>>16668683
>>16668689
>>16668699
>>16668703
>>16668708
BASED

>> No.16670188
File: 289 KB, 1038x576, fullscreen-capture-08112017-211057-bmp-e1510176609728[1].jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
16670188

*gulp* time...to dilate

>> No.16670274

>>16670188
I've... seen things, you people wouldn't believe
Drag Queen parades off the shoulder of Orion. I watched migrant camps in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to dilate.

>> No.16670397
File: 216 KB, 1000x1129, 1603896796870.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
16670397

>>16668677
>>16668683
>>16668689
>>16668699
>>16668703
>>16668708

>> No.16671525

>>16668245
Ironically good, which = meta-ironically as sincerely self-referentially comedically good.

>> No.16671679

>>16668237
Uronically Nick Land:

the doctor's face seems to swim in and out of focus
you see the pores in his skin
scrobicular arrays
and then -
suddenly
without dissolve
crossing the threshold
filmic cut
a circle of homogeneous flesh tone
nostrils sealed against the deluge
eyes shut and switched off forever
lips
teeth
tongue migrate downwards out of shot
the disk receding at speed towards a point of
disappearance
in the centre of the screen
the old reality is closing down
passing through mathematical punctuality the dot winks out in pixel death we apologize for the loss of signal there seems to be a transmission problem we are unable to restore the home movie you were three years old wearing a cowboy hat standing in the paddling pool mummy and daddy smiling proudly but your parents have been vaporized into a dot pattern shapes and colours collapsed into digital codings we have come to the end of the series and there will be no repeats of daddy the doctor and mummy the nurse there has been a terrorist indrlf'nt in the film archives the Western civilization show has been discontinued hundreds of gigabytes God-daddy the unit death-mummy the zero stink of excrement and burnt celluloid you must remember one scrabbling at zero like a dog it's the primal scene
you were warned not to play with the switches
now schizophrenia has adjusted your set
flies crawl out of the eye-sockets of black babies
breeding the dot patterns
- and for your special entertainment
we have turned you into a TV guided bomb
daddy is a North American aerospace corporation
mummy is an air-raid shelter
bit parts melt in the orgasm -
body fat burns
conception
you are minus nine months and counting
don't be scared
take twenty billion years and universal history is on
the screen
big bang is to be redesigned
hydrogen fuses under the arc-lights
the camera angles can be improved
outside the studio schizophrenics drift in green
and black
you feel that you've been here before
11.35 on a beautiful capitalist evening
runaway neon
traffic of sex and marihuana
your death window is rushing up
almost time for you to climb into the script
which when you're inside
is remembering where you came in
we're afraid it's impossible to take you live to the
impact site
this report comes from beyond the electro-magnetic spectrum
if you climb out through the electrodes
the oxygen mask will descend automatically
please extinguish all smoking materials
deposit syringes in the tray provided
there will be a slight jolt as we cross over
thank you for flying with transnational
commodification
we shall shortly be arriving in mayhem
if there is anybody on board who can impersonate
a pilot
it would be of comfort to the other passengers

>> No.16671718

>>16668237
Cyberpunk poetry is the beauty inherent in the design of the systems that make cyberpunk possible.

Read this (https://twobithistory.org/2018/10/14/lisp.html)) and then SICP by Abelson and Sussman and your eyes will be opened to a structure so inherently well executed that it tips the scale in favour of divine inspiration.

>> No.16671729

>>16671679
as based as one can get

>> No.16671819

I'm a scary gargoyle on a tower
That you made with plastic power
Your rhinestone eyes are like factories far away
When the paralytic dreams that we all seem to keep
Drive on engines 'til they weep
With future pixels in factories far away
So call the mainland from the beach
Your heart is now washed up in bleach
The waves are rising for this time of year
And nobody knows what to do with the heat
Under sunshine pylons we'll meet while rain is falling like rhinestones from the sky
I got a feeling now my heart is frozen
All the phoses and the growsin
Happy and after native in my soul
I prayed on the unmovable
Yeah clinging to the Adam's of rock
Seasons seas just smooth signs of change
I can't see now she so sexy
Now that light is so I can see
The storm bring strange loyalties and skies
I'm a scary gargoyle on a tower
That you made with plastic power
Your rhinestone eyes are like factories far away
(Here we go again)
(That's electric)
Helicopters fly over the beach
Same time everyday, same routine
Clear target in the summer when skies are blue
It's part of the noise when winter comes
It reverberates in my lungs
Nature's corrupted in factories far away (that's electric)

>> No.16671952

>>16671679
>thank you for flying with transnational
>commodification
>we shall shortly be arriving in mayhem
Holy cringe.

>> No.16671982
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16671982

>>16671952

>> No.16672427

Tokyo 2077
I fuck my waifu
buy a beer from the 7/11
the cute cashier says 'nicu'

>> No.16672439

>>16672427
AI waifu*

>> No.16672497
File: 387 KB, 599x450, NO_FUTURE.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
16672497

>>16671679
One of my favorite passages of FN. It's so fucking k i n o, despite being a bit melodramatic/cheesy,

>> No.16672519

>>16672497
>11.35 on a beautiful capitalist evening
>runaway neon
>traffic of sex and marihuana
I felt that

>> No.16673570
File: 394 KB, 500x805, age-of-steel.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
16673570

>>16668237

Sprawl of automata, bereft of tongue;
All that we see will surely disappear
In winterfall, slung wholly in that silence;
A lid of moths and after-wings. Endlösung,
Somnambulant ambience of close of day;
Whose nearness soon is neither frontispiece
Nor immanence, but sleep more cool than air,
Where all the tasks of flesh are obsolete.

Initialize.
Process.
Calculate.
Execute.

Ganglia rise in thermonuclear colors.
The earth the sea the cities shine like fire.
I press my fingers to the quiet stars.
War in the age of intelligent machines.

>> No.16674574
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16674574

>>16668245
>They say it is all ones and zeros
>I only see zeros

>> No.16675174

>>16674574
>tfw you might be the zero

>> No.16675191

"I wiped the blade against my jeans and walked into the bar. It was mid-afternoon, very hot and still. The bar was deserted. I ordered a whiskey. The barman looked at the blood and asked:

‘God?’

‘Yeah.’

‘S’pose it’s time someone finished that hypocritical little punk, always bragging about his old man’s power…’

He smiled crookedly, insinuatingly, a slight nausea shuddered through me. I replied weakly:

‘It was kind of sick, he didn’t fight back or anything, just kept trying to touch me and shit, like one of those dogs that try to fuck your leg. Something in me snapped, the whingeing had ground me down too low. I really hated that sanctimonious little creep.’

‘So you snuffed him?’

‘Yeah, I’ve killed him, knifed the life out of him, once I started I got frenzied, it was an ecstasy, I never knew I could hate so much.’

I felt very calm, slightly light-headed. The whisky tasted good, vaporizing in my throat. We were silent for a few moments. The barman looked at me levelly, the edge of his eyes twitching slightly with anxiety:

There’ll be trouble though, don’tcha think?’

‘I don’t give a shit, the threats are all used up, I just don’t give a shit.’

‘You know what they say about his old man? Ruthless bastard they say. Cruel…’

‘I just hope I’ve hurt him, if he even exists.’

‘Woulden wanna cross him merself,’ he muttered.

I wanted to say ‘yeah, well that’s where we differ’, but the energy for it wasn’t there. The fan rotated languidly, casting spidery shadows across the room. We sat in silence a little longer. The barman broke first:

‘So God’s dead?’

‘If that’s who he was. That fucking kid lied all the time. I just hope it’s true this time.’

The barman worked at one of his teeth with his tongue, uneasily:

‘It’s kindova big crime though, isn’t it? You know how it is, when one of the cops goes down and everything’s dropped ’til they find the guy who did it. I mean, you’re not just breaking a law, your breaking LAW.’

I scraped my finger along my jeans, and suspended it over the bar, so that a thick clot of blood fell down into my whisky, and dissolved. I smiled:

‘Maybe it’s a big crime,’ I mused vaguely ‘but maybe it’s nothing at all…’ ‘…and we have killed him’ writes Nietzsche, but—destituted of community—I crave a little time with him on my own.

In perfect communion I lick the dagger foamed with God’s blood."

>> No.16675194

>>16672497
>One of my favorite passages of FN. It's so fucking k i n o
Lol fuck off accfag.

>> No.16675435

>>16668245
>>16668355
>>16668357
>>16668677
>>16668683
>>16668689
>>16668699
>>16668703
>>16668708
>>16668722
>>16668836
>>16669527
>>16669733
i dont get it

>> No.16676439

>>16668355
>scientific anarchism

fucking lol

>> No.16676559

>>16668237
>tranime picture
>cyberpunk
>Nick Land
Fuck off.

>> No.16676610

>>16676439
Feyerabend, hello?!

>> No.16676687
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16676687

>>16675194
>>16676559