totstellen / phrenophonia (2001)
c-60 collaboration-tape with bernd boraxo, + booklet covered in found blueprints and an individual stamp, limited to 50 tapes + 25 cds
click images to see full resolution.
reisenotizen (travelnotes)
this is not some developers on coke running amok.this is real + really intendet like it is. metropolitan, the alley of cybernauts. the arcades lack humans. + that is such a disturbance factor in the calculation with the exotic made of glass. in the boulevards the events are awaiting the humans. fun orientated entertainment urbanism, that's what one of the droid of the trendcenter would say. underneath the dome the simulated exitement of this age is droning. the dome is a huge penis,
that's what SONY's phallocrats think, + the sky a vagina. hostile takeovers can also go wrong. the anthropogenous ecosystem plugs off the last leaf of the retort-tree + this is falling on chrome.
(bernd boraxo)
ahnenbruehe (ancestorsoup)
deadly the swift reproduction of mankind | every second childbirth is one death too less murder a gift | every volcano a hope hail the typhoons|not jesus but herodes knew the ways of the world | the massakers are investions in the future
god is not a man or woman it's a virus | sickness trains you into the humbleness of the flesh underground | in the rattling bronchia the voice of the judgment day | SPIEGEL reports about the global problem | with the disposal of our dissolving remains | FERTILIZER FOR FLOWERS in the poems of the romantic age | the dead pacified the grandchildren in the moonlight | and the sun was not hazardous | ANCESTORSOUP of todays undertakers | poisoned with medicine spoiled by progress | dead but still devastating OUR enviroment | ENVIROMENT what a word | WE ARE THE RADIATING CENTER | how different are you living knowing that you are a poison | do we live different does the human need mankind | DEATH TO THE GRANDCHILDREN | it would be better to reverse time | our possesion death and not birth anymore.
(heiner mueller)
eine fratze (a grimace)
our sickness is our mask. our sickness is our endless boredom. our sickness is an extract of lazyness and infinite restlessness. our sickness is poverty. our sickness is to be bound to a place. our sickness is to be unable to cope with loneliness. our sickness is not to have a job + if we had one to have one. our sickness is not to trust ourselves, others, the wisdom, the art. our sickness is a lack of seriousness, pretendet happiness, double the pain. someone said to us, you are laughing so weird, if that onewould know that this laughter is the reflection of our hell. our sickness is the submission to a god we have choosen ourself. our sickness is to say the opposite of what we would like to say. we are torturing ourselves with the study of the expression on the faces of our listeners. our sickness is to be enemies of silence. our sickness is to live at the end of a worldday, during an evening with such a thin air, that you almost couldn't bare the rotting stench. exitement greatness heroism back then the world could sometimes spot the shadows of these gods on the horizon. today they are theaterpuppets. the war has come to the world, the infinite peace has left a ridiculous inheritance. once we dreamt we hat commited a unnameable crime unknown to ourselves + should be exicuted in a diabolical way, a vinebottle-opener should be punched into our eye. but we were able to escape + we fled with a unbearable sadness in our hearts, along an autumn alley leading through the neverending territories of the clouds. has this dream be our symbol? our sickness...might be possible to heal it. love. but in the end we had to realize that we are even to sick to love. but there's something, which is our health, to say NEVERTHELESS three times,to spit into our hands three times, like an old soilder + to move on, on our way like the clouds of the westwind into the unknown.
(georg heym)
die falle(N) (the trap(S) or they who are falling)
i have been without mouth + voice when it began. no sound coming from me. also the eyes + ears developed the function the have today time by time. my arms + legs have been bound. to be able to move i had to try to rip apart the structure which held me closed in without outside help. most of the time i had the impression the strong material became even stronger by my attemps to escape + that i became even more paralysed by that. i state of exhaustion began + i was devastated when i recordnized the ripening cocoon in my skull. panicfilled i tried to broaden my field of vision. + when i succeded i was able to see others who have made them selves comfortable in their traps.