a work in progress by /rupture and splice
The jungle is
The jungle is a complex system. The density of life in the tropical
rainforest, the speed with which organisms spring up, spread, mature,
and die, the ecological cycle, is so rapid that thick layers of fertile
soil become established in the brief time between rainfalls, even
on the horizontal surfaces of upper tree branches. Life in the jungle
is able to move quickly-- even sedentary forms like plants and fungi
have developed in the ability to spread seed or spore in all directions
at every opportunity. Molds, fungi, bacteria that thrive and flourish
on the decay of plant and animal matter//
We find our situation to resemble the above.
Urban (or rural!) spaces provide us with a similar density of planes
on which to engage in the activity of (sound/image/meme) reproduction
at every opportunity...constantly searching for soil in which new
life forms may grow.
We like fungi utilize materials discarded from the shuddering body
of late capitalism in order to build structures which will house,
protect, and make possible the continued spread of our mimetic 'genes.'
What are those, specifically? Variations on the themes fo class, race,
and gender consciousness; nomadism; technorganicity, media disinformation
and subversion; breaks in the flow; recombinant existence; fevered
dreams of chanting down babylon on more time...
Existing on the city's edge, where aging industry crumbles against
working class white homes in a slow-moving swirl of racial intolerance,
we are constantly reminded that "any sound can be you" is untrue.
Neighborhood kids frequently hurl cruel-edged words at us, taught
to twist difference into fear. The sounds we make in response fortell
a future more fluid, with fewer genres of classification and containment.
Color outside of the lines.
Abandoned TV's and computers become our lamps and speaker stands and
sculptural building blocks. We pull intact bags of video and audio
cassettes from the trash for renewal in densely layered image and
sound mixes; a roll of canvas from the streets of Chinatown is cut
up and stapled into our space and becomes our walls (our walls are
translucent, waterstained with a sinewave pattern, thin enough to
hear small noises from the industrial machinery just outside). To
be truthful, the we writing this are elsewhere already, collaboration
on opposite ends of the continent. We conquer our diasporic disprsal
by sending data down telephone lines on stolen time...
We move between the multilayerd canopies of different media, different
social spaces and scenes. We inject junk into the veins of sub/cultural
separatism, but we are not junkies: we avoid overreliance on any one
drug, strategy, or tactic, and constantly search for new ways to disturb
the smoothly narcotic surface of corporate ideological domination...
The Jungle is disappearing. We agree that the jungles (all of them)
should be saved; They are full of many tools-known and unkown-that
have enormous healing potential. From the subterranean roots to the
airy canopies, jungles are pluralistic, interdependent, and chaotic,
and for these reasons new ones must be fostered. The jungle is not
afraid of gaps, breaks, or small paths hacked through because it will
soon regenerate, patch up, and mend itself with fresh growth.
Witness the riot of life, its rhythms irrepressible.
Tones burst, the air is charged, and in the undergrowth fellow creatures
are poised to spring.
Jungles are full of sound...noise...communications...
the Jungle Operations Manual by splice & /rupture