if . . .

"The best way to ensure that the learned information is retrieved from memory in an on-the-job situation is to prompt learners to practice retrieving that information during the learning event. It's not the interactivity that facilitates learning--it's the retrieval practice. This explains why questions about nonessential information actually hurt learning. They provide practice on retrieving the wrong information. It also explains why feedback is useful, but not always necessary. When the correct retrieval routes are practiced, feedback is redundant." :: comment :: . . . have always intuited (and have sought empirical, written and practised evidence) that you must live the questions . . . but what is nonessential information . . . too easy or simplistic criterion will deny too much . . . the search for the essential to distinquish from the nonessential is a art in itself . . . & what is 'art' . . . and as Paul Celan wrote (in his speech on the occasion

I. British Actor Deported. Steven Berkoff, the British actor, who was scheduled to perform his one-man "Shakespeare's Villains" this week in Ann Arbor and Grand Rapids, Mich., was deported on Tuesday, apparently for a visa violation."It was a nightmare," Mr. Berkoff told The Grand Rapids Press from London. "I have never been prevented from working in America before." Mr. Berkoff was told he had stayed one day past the limit of his 1997 visa, his American agent, Joe Ajlouny, said. via II. . . . for the burning bird & her plight . . . though she never burns here . . . Ch'ienniang was the daughter of Chang Yi, a public official in Hunan province. She had a cousin named Wang Chu, an intelligent and handsome youth. The two cousins had grown up together and since Chang Yi both loved and approved of the boy he said he would accept Wang Chu as his son-in-law. Both young people heard and marked the promise; she was an only child and spent all her time w

. . . a link is a promise . . . At 09:12 AM 6/19/2002 +1000, Adrian wrote: > ok, i think of hypertext links as like performative speech acts (they're promises). i think of hypertext links as being the *same as* film edits. film edits are also promises. as performative speech acts they have force (they're like order words) and so inside their promise that they make sense there is also this excess of force that means they will make sense. this force leaks out each side of the edit/link which is why the meaning of the before and after can change, without changing what the before and after is. ie the kuleshov effect. same content different meanings yet the thing (the image in that case) that effects the meaning (the edit) in no way changes the image itself. same thing happens in link node hypertext particularly where complex structures are invovled. so, this is what i mean by performative. links/edits are promises. Adrian, I like this notion of links as promises quite a lot, par

. . . encountered this story twice today . . in two completely different contexts . . . a story i am much aquainted with . . . since it comes here it goes . . . The Dream of Chuang Tzu Chuang Tzu dreamt he was a butterfly and, when he awoke, he did not know if he was a man who had dreamt he was a butterfly or a butterfly who was dreaming he was a man. (From Chang Tzu 1889 by Herbert Allen Giles ) [Found in Extraordinary Tales by Jorge Luis Borges & Adolfo Bioy Casares edited and translated by Anthony Kerrigan]

"Mr. Herbert is one of many musicians who, rather than appropriating extracts from others' songs, use found, ambient and other naturally occurring sounds as the foundation for their tunes. Mr. Herbert has even written a manifesto to help define his work. Mr. Herbert's document forbids the use of drum machines and sampling from other people's music. Debra Singer, the associate curator of contemporary art at the Whitney Museum of Art who organized the sound-art exhibition in the museum's 2002 biennial, said she enjoyed Mr. Herbert's album. She said, "Even though musically it's very engaging, what really distinguishes it is the concept behind it and the source of the sounds." She also appreciated how Mr. Herbert combined digital music-making technologies with "deliberately simplistic gestures" like banging a DVD against the microphone instead of sampling its soundtrack." via

O N C E I did hear him, he did wash the world, unseen, nightlong, real. O N E and unending, annihilate, I'ed. Light was. Salvation. (from Breathturn Paul Celan translated by Pierre Joris )

My thoughts are wounds in my head. My brain is a scar. I want to be a machine. Arms to drag legs to walk no pain no thinking. (Heiner Müller , 'Hamletmachine' ) Heartplay A May I lay my heart at your feet. B If you don't make a mess on my floor.. A My heart is clean.. B We'll see, won't we.. A I can't get it out.. B Would you like me to help you.. A If you wouldn't mind.. B It'll be a pleasure. I can't get it out either.. A cries. B I will remove it surgically. What have I got this penknife for anyway. We'll have this sorted out in no time. work will keep you from despair. Right, there we are. But this is a brick. Your heart is a red brick.. A Yes, but it beats only for you.. (1981) A beats B to death with the brick.. (Addition, July 1991). ------------- Heiner Müller ----------------- from Heiner Müller Theatremachine translated and edited by Marc von Henning

I. . . . it happened again . . . just as sure as april is the cruelest month and it is summer . . . despite an incredible ambivalence - when the air outside becomes oppressive & there's no relief inside, not even in the basement, & seeds of the poplar trees choke the air piling like gentle snowdrifts along the front walk - the words of this mythological beast find a way into the voice of the mind like an addiction, a craving . . . inspite of myself the Strange Music seeks me out and the music repeats endlessly. . . school is out for my students&teachers . . . there ain't no cure . . . I met a man who lost his mind In some lost place I had to find Follow me the wise man said But he walked behind (from Teachers by Leonard Cohen) II. . . time to honour (mw) wood s lot . . . an incredible harvester of the web . . . little nuggets are turned into gold mines [my little Thomas Bernhard find: character assassination from The Voice Imitator & a simple pointer turns int

Viewing an Ancient City With Futuristic Glasses Large detail from an 1865 temple photograph by Samuel Bourne in a show about Varanasi at the Asia Society.

"Two philosophers, about whom more has been written than they themselves have published, who met again - after not seeing one another for decades - in, of all places, Goethe's house in Weimar, to which they had gone, in the nature of things, separately and from opposite directions - something that, since it was winter and consequently very cold, had presented the greatest difficulties to both of them - simple for the purpose of getting to know Goethe's habits better, assured each other, at this unexpected and for both of them painful meeting, of their mutual respect and admiration and at the same time told each other that, once back home, they would immerse themselves in each other's writings with the intensity appropriate to, and worthy of, those writings. When, however, one of them said he would give an account of his meeting in the Goethe House in the newspaper that was, in his opinion, the best and would do so, in the nature of things, in the form of a philosophica

. . . hmmm . . . 1/12/02 started blog to explore presentation of self in a cybernetic system . . . began 'if'. writing . posting . linking . publishing to ex(periment)plore self presentation [pl(d)ay st(p)age] . . . 3/28/02 disenchanted with chronology {as a theatre practitioner/educator found} Chaikin's metaphors of "space" (grounded in practical actor training) > catagorized(archived) items into 'space', 'place', 'territory', 'zone', 'sphere', 'abadonment', 'exile', 'occupation' and 'habitation' . . . 6/2/02 trashed it . . . not blog suicide but letting it all go . . . hmmm . . . found an unused site > registered >blog squatting . . . still ['if'...ing] outlining . . . "To support arts education partnerships, grants of $3.1 million to 31 public schools and 39 cultural organizations in New York were made yesterday by the nonprofit Center for Arts Education in ceremonies

. . . complete random . . . "Only if poets and writers set themselves tasks that no one else dares imagine will literature continue to have a function." ( Calvino. Six Memos for the Next Millennium,112 ) Whenever humanity seems condemned to heaviness, I think I should fly like Perseus into a different space. I don't mean escaping into dreams or into the irrational. I mean that I have to change my approach, look at the world from a different perspective, with a different logic and with fresh methods of cognition and verification (7). Quickness. Exactitude. Visibility. Multiplicity. Consistency. . . . sometimes i place items so they may be harvested . . . or maybe seeding others . . . then latter i'll check out the crop . . . it's important to watch the regional climate . . . planting seeds at the wrong time can be fruitless . . . blink

I. ".these t.ex][e][ts r _code wurk_ remnants d-voted to the dispersal of writing that has been n.spired and mutated according 2 the dynamics of an active network . " :: caw[meant] :: . . . know no code . . . txt.z u spec[u]lashon N 4orge (s)zen(se) . . . "today, we are all closed in concentration camps we call nations." -William Burroughs II. "In learning to write, the child must disengage himself from the sensory aspect of speech and replace words by images of words." . . . maybe/maybe not a contextual pointer III. "Publish Link, Pay 1200 Euros " ( PapaScott : June 17, 2002 Archives) . . . check out all the links and wonder about link consequence . . .

"However, the fact remains that, as human beings, we don't want to "be" other people. We want to connect with others, find some common territory, share space in a way that is mutually meaningful. We want to 'be,' but not if that means we can't be ourselves." ( Mann. Cyborg p 24) :: comment :: . . . the creative process . . . to enter into a relationship [connect/share] . . . the tension/contradiction between learning and experience . . . seeing a real-time video, listening to a live broadcast, reading a blog as it is typed . . . the physical presence of a human . . . "Someday is today -- the eye is a camera and I am a camera" (Mann) . . . the we are a projector -- we are a projection . . . great balls of fire . . .

Sunday, March 10, 2002 Faithfully, Fatefully, and Fatally Pinter TheNewTheatreCo-op . . . The Birthday Party by Harold Pinter . . . Directed by Susan Williamson . . . with a stunningly caring hand she has shaped a classic of modern theatre into a edgy parable of deceptive & poignant terror . . . . . .brilliant Pinter . . . the cliche, Language Of Silence, made visible by the controlled and imaginative voice of the actor. . . each moment, the actions shatter our illusions (delusions) that we can celebrate the mundane daily existence. . . . scene after scene gnaws at the borders of our attempts to construct meaning. The entire cast flawlessly touches Pinter's claustrophobic, almost archaic and ancient, soulscape with moments of intensity that open into the heart with ease and immensity. . . ."the nerves break" as each word is mercilessly articulated with a passionate cadence and cruel laugh . . . the characters jostle and juxtapose in complex relationships ranging from

... to any visitors who wish to know more about this outline / expand / collapse format visit s l a m . . . Marc is the creator & master . . . ( if you use Radio it is a one minute download & install)

Your eyes are widely opened flowers. Your eyes are widely opened flowers. Only their centers are darkly clenched To conceal mysteries That lure me to a keener blooming Than I know, And promise a secret I must have. By Alice Walker

Implicit Stillness voices the passing into ourselves lie in deep rapture sleeping in revelations creating a grace of seeing and listening for an ecstasy of understanding being and time white roses rising through flesh

. . . reading Cyborg / digital destiny and human possiblility In the age of the wearable computer by Steve Mann with Hal Niedzviecki . . . opens with a Marshall McLuhan quote: "The computer [is] the most extrordinay of man's technological clothing: it is an extension of our central nervous system. Beside it the wheel is a mere hula-hoop." (War and peace in the Global village) . . . there is a connection to . . . Hart Crane: American Futurist As Reviewed By: Garrick Davis "If Crane was visionary it was in this: he sought to understand the forces of his age, and humanize them, and turn them to aesthetic ends." . . . ok a very spurious connection . . . yet following even the most tenuous threads, if at first not visible, latter often become revealing . . .

. . . it rains & rains & rains . . . for the first time this spring . . . in the hearts of all there is joy & celebration . . . as noah rebirths . . . there are two ways to take care of your life. you can develop yourself as an artist, or you can forget yourself and devote your life to art. that's a big difference. the first is to enslave yourself in your ego. it feels good for a while, but it doesn't last for long. this is to become a host for the guest. the second way is to become a host for the host. you must turn your ego into fuel and burn your life for the benefit of all beings. you will become a kind of fool. but this is the way to find peace. just climb the mountain every day. - dainin katagiri (lifted from hyperfiction )

David Bowie, 21st-Century Entrepreneur . David Bowie, one of rock's most astute conceptualists since the 1960's, has now emerged as one of rock's smartest entrepreneurs. By Jon Pareles. "I tried to make a checklist of what exactly the album is about and abandonment was in there, isolation," he said. "And I thought, well, nothing's changed much. At 55, I don't really think it's going to change very much. As you get older, the questions come down to about two or three. How long? And what do I do with the time I've got left? "When it's taken that nakedly, these are my subjects. And it's like, well, how many times can you do this? And I tell myself, actually, over and over again. The problem would be if I was too self-confident and actually came up with resolutions for these questions. But I think they're such huge unanswerable questions that it's just me posing them, again and again." [New York Times: Arts] :: comment :

Members of Iranian Troupe Are Refused Entry by U.S. By Celestine Bohlen.. The Lincoln Center Festival has reduced the number of shows of a musical drama from Iran, after 10 members of the Iranian troupe were denied visas to enter the United States. Eileen McMahon, the spokeswoman for the festival, said the 10 performers were refused visas at the United States Consulate in Dubai, United Arab Emirates, because they were deemed at risk of becoming economic refugees. The other actors in the troupe were given initial clearance, having proved that they are not likely to stay on past the expiration of their visas, but they are now awaiting a security check, Ms. McMahon said. [New York Times: Arts ] :: comment :: . . . it never ends . . . two years ago, having established an international & independent company composed of canadian, russian & american musician/actors . . . working on the wonderful story of gilgamesh . . . after performances in canada were invited to san francisco . . .

Salon.com Technology | A new teenage wasteland? "And almost wholly missing from the bulk of the book is the sense of the hacker as someone creative, as a programmer who comes up with solutions to a problem rather than just exploring a network, or using code nabbed from somewhere else. "The Hacker Diaries" would have benefited immensely from at least a dabble in some of the historical ground covered in Steven Levy's "Hackers" or the huge wealth of commentary inspired by the rise of the free software/open-source movement as an outgrowth of hacker culture. Instead, repeatedly, the term "hacker" is used indiscriminately, grouping together people who trade in pirated software, who deface Web sites, who want information to be "free" and who are simply really, really good with computers. "

Martin Esslin, Drama Theorist, Dies at 83. Martin Esslin, a drama critic, teacher and the author of "The Theater of the Absurd," a seminal book for experimental playwrights, died on Feb. 24 in London. By Mel Gussow. [New York Times: Arts ] Writing about Jan Kott, a fellow critic and European émigré, Mr. Esslin placed him in a grand tradition as one of the "truly creative thinkers whose contributions set in motion new lines of speculation and research," words that could also be applied to Mr. Esslin himself. :: comment :: there are writings which shape & influence . . . as a naive & young student eager to learn all i could about 'new, experimental theatre' Esslin's "seminal book" fueled my passion to explore . . . i never thanked him . . . in fact, until today i never thought to thank him . . . there is an emptiness . . . i was unaware that he had a place within me . . . that place has shifted & reading of his death i found myself s

Love Tightly coiled, like a snake it sits In my very heart, weaving spells Or murmurs for days on end Like a dove on my white windowsill. In the sparkle of hoarfrost a gleam, In the carnation's slumber a hint, And secretly, surely it leads From all joy and peace of mind. It can sob so seductively, sigh In the violin's yearning prayer, And it happens, a stranger's smile Fills me with a sudden fear. by Anna Akhmatova November 24, 1911 Tsarkoye Selo Translated by Daniel Weissbort

NYTimes WRITERS ON WRITING By DIANE ACKERMAN Poems Foster Self-Discovery This wasn't a planned book, but one that geysered up naturally over a year and a half, during which I wrote poems daily. I began writing them to corral the unruly emotions that arose during intense psychotherapy, a process I explain a little in this excerpt from "Omens of Winter": Poems arrive as meteorites. Collecting them, I try my best to impart impulses, the Morse code of the heart, but I do not understand the vernacular of fear that jostles me until art occurs, or why knowing you from afar spurs hours of working myself into the stars. Well, I do know, but I fight its common sense: I try to stabilize us through eloquence. It's an old story, better told than I tell, how artists shape what hurts like hell (usually love) into separate empires of lust, tenderness, and lesser desires _______________________________ NYTimes Arts By STEVEN HENRY MADOFF What Documenta Meant to Them On Saturday, the h

Petals fell upon us from the apple trees.You thought it might have been a fall of snow, taking shape within the early light of summer. Birds sang somewhere in the snow, recalling songs of other seasons gone into the light. The apples that began to grow upon the branch were put away, the snow came down upon us. Perhaps the sky is but a tree invisible that sheds its snow, and we are grass, sensing the fall upon us, nothing more. If we have names, they shall be lost within the changing of the light. We will be known by how its passing pauses on our skin - the wind, the snow, the light. Taking your hand in mine begins within the mind. It is a passage of the light that rests wherever our bodies hold themselves within the seasons underneath the sky. Other birds rise up and sing, drawing the air into their song. We reflect upon the sun, the memories of birds descending on our breath. (E.D. Blodgett.Apostrophes III alone upon the earth,p.8)

. . . wiped out a month . . . four months . . . most of the past . . . because if it can't be (re)stored / (re)collected / (re)lived / (re) searched / (re)membered. . . it may be gone . . . if it goes where does it go . . . needing to begin . . . needing to end . . . will be missed . . . "Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better. " - Samuel Beckett (via archipelago ) . . . lots of reasons . . . started the experiment under the influence of theater & the act defies preservation . . . the appearance remains . . . the guts (soul) removed . . . the empty space . . . _______________________________ 17 I grew out of a dark, vicious swamp, rustling like a thin reed, breathing a forbidden life languidly, passionately, sweetly. No one sees me drooping into my cold, marshy home, welcomed by the quick whispers of autumnal time. I like this cruelty, this insult, and in this dream-like life I envy everyone in secret, I'm secretly in love with all