Gather at the Table for the Tale of the Croquembouche
STOREFRONT FOR ART AND ARCHITECTURE, 2013
Ahem.
This conical sarcophagus, embalmed in sauce, a sucrose crust luxurious,
EMBODIES
iconography of frill and silver dinner self-fulfilling sarcophagic.
Of acute reflective razor blades aimed at captive senseless magic.
1. The Observer's dilemma
2. The Quantum enigma
3. The sound of one hand clapping
4. If a tree falls in the woods
It's impossible to calculate the magnitude of solitude inside this croquembouche.
The hollowed-out interior created by exterior is never fully viewed,
because all, if any, elements that disappear with interference haven’t any proof.
So begins our speculation of a vacant croquembouche.
Objective comprehension, to subjective deferential-
if it's not experiential, then it's not experimental-
lets tendentious apparitions and interpretative convictions
push the spectators' perspectives (all unique yet simultaneous)
inside the croquembouche and at the same time in themselves again.
Collectively experienced, projectively delirious!
Oversight-ed, blinded by the very eyes inside of them.
Readily interpreting the sensory-consistently restricted information
that a brain attached to optic nerves and eyeballs can receive,
an opaque preoccupation with self-knowledge intervenes.
As if behind a mirrored glass, the croquembouche is hardly seen.
As if the method of perception is the outcome, not the means.
The personal identity is mediated to a pulp and broadcast to the moon.
The empty space of croquembouches ricochets trajectories of consciousness across the room.
In this way are the identified consumed.
The loss of self-identity the paramount defeat, to the atemporal emptiness of impotence is linked,
as if life licenses lifelessness when making indistinct and issues sickness, something missing,
if it isn’t grunting, twisting, in an orgy of conceit,
the historic supersession of the gutted by the glutted,
a sardonic cacophonic feast with croquembouche a part of each who dissipates this centerpiece
and celebrates, by proxy, self-destruction and relief.
Dismantling the surface, seeking secrets underneath.
Discovering the meaning by disposing of the being.
Piled high identical with additive eventual of caramel as ganglia
(connected but discretely real)
autono-nomic monoliths in god-honest unanimous afraid of what would happen if
the sense of self unzipped, or ripped, or fell through a Cartesian rift,
beyond all subjectivity, all painstaking self-history, all epiphenomenal qualia,
Un-handcuff holding testament, submissive will contextual, proverbial, it’s early still,
I’ve only just come home. I'll join the protest later.
I'll caramelize impatiently my
inside-outside memories.
I have to have a history.
But didn’t you that movie see with situation irony of hippocampal injury,
anterograde amnesia feeding annotated Polaroids?
And maybe you forgot some parts and watched it more than once?
IF MEMORY IS ANYTHING IT'S ANYTHING AT ALL.
If a pulverized profiterole exposed to woeful physical explodes the neutral safety of its relative choux pastry
it has lost its self completely.
If hippocampal injury unhinges relativity and threatens subjectivity, record the world empirically.
Hell, no one else will ever see.
A shell of written history sequesters self-identity as much as any other artificial perpetuity.
Constructive continuity.
A standard hippocampus by what force demands its stature?
From what source of its enrapture comes belief that it's a means of making futures dark and backlit?
That it outcompetes its absence?
As if memory in any way gives epistemic access to immeasurable facets of its blackness creamy abscess!
Stick it full of instruments
and
measure careful methods with
and
fact check backwards limitless
and
upload to consensuses.
Fantasies of magnitude and questions of direction
become codified uncertainties and hardcoded corrections.
1. Accommodate sensorial mechanic preconceptions
2. Use conventions of collection
3. Salvage estimates, selections
Repeated with consistency then worshiped as objective,
as obsessively reality in partial multiplicity.
History collapses to an untouchable certainty.
Memory elapses elevated to the status of the presently precursory.
Records and the means with taken
closed to reinterpretation,
farthest field from observation,
yet the most concrete.
If inside we can never know then make the outside sweet.
Mythology secrete.
Indemnify identity in case what may contextual
with flexible, chameleonic, promulgated spectacles,
dynamic self-expression or whatever,
every spectator suggestible,
all messages comestible,
in birth
and death
is only still the meaning then accessible,
and in between them secrets hide,
and making and breaking and peeking inside,
see the unseen or else eat it alive!
Ahem.
Sticking sticky fingers into imbricated interstices, desecrating luxury is a constructive action.
Install a carnal carnival with croquembouche the mascot.
