extinction porn3

Every situation has the same structure, which is to kick over its own traces. You’d think we were getting wise. And she tells herself such things often lately: that the face of permanence is an artifact of who knows what or who.

She flatters herself that she knows – of the machines that draw her, press her in time and again on unknown fabric.

The knowledge has not made her different, yet and she’s not sure she wishes to become so. Alternatively, she hears the clinicians trade for speculations in the informal drinking houses that pop up and die in enclosed gardens.

There is dust, or some other particulate in the air, a seasonal wind blows matter up from the South. She was told that it was sand but she has her doubts. At times, she wonders if she is the foreigner here, or whether her hosts are simply out of their time.

Even though we speak of a ‘totally inhuman’ reality, the adverb “totally” does not manage to erase the reference to the human.

So, it was always seemed like this for Anna. He lies sleeping, or doing whatever. Shoulder against lips and tongue. Thick hair in her face. The agreeable taint of sex. Eyes closed on things you cannot see.

The conference was buzzed informally, with some rudimentary directions and a box for submissions. She walked out along a coast road to the University. There’s a dirty rim of jetsam and a blackish kelp whose slithery texture made her avoid contact at first. Yet after the first swim, this too seemed native. She pressed into its dark mass and kissed its hidden faces, chewing them tenderly without consuming them

That is to say that if the disappearance of the human is not impossible, the content of this disappearance remains as inconceivable to man as that which awaits him or does not await him) beyond his physical disappearance[1]

What have they rejected?

Perhaps this exercises us as much as “what is to come”? The paucity of consciousness cuts both ways. She thought at first there were more stray animals than humans at the conference – cats and rodent-like scavengers that turned out to be something else.

They had struck up a conversation along these lines. He claimed to be from around here, though she felt he dissembled his status and it flattered her in a way that he bothered. It made him more tractable than her, filled in the spaces left by periods that were neither memory nor awareness.

The opening plenary was disputed. An Interdisciplinary professor was introduced by the organizers. She gamely looked for ways to integrate its numinous topics with her home discipline(s).

The lecture has been redacted. Anna relies on her recollection and a few scattered notes. Admittedly, distracted by his spare, soft body leaking through her dress. His proximity hurts and she didn’t want that to stop. Professor Sax begins with the history of organic and industrial fertilizers, as a preamble to the topic of major and minor inversions.

Anna construed this section as a revisionist appeal for the radicality of the minor inversion in the light of the “latest findings”.

This turned out to be a collage of aerial reconnaissance photos and an inventory of posthuman bodies in vegetal poses. Before she could develop this thesis, a bulblike man who had been rocking to his bare legs in the front interrupted with a battery of animal honks.

[1] Janicaud, D. On the Human Condition. Oxford: Routledge 2005, 29-30.

[1] Janicaud, D. On the Human Condition. Oxford: Routledge 2005, 29-30.

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