memories_of_a_never-been_future
Here the devices-memory do not look to the past: they do not want to “remember” anything, bring back to the present what has already happened. Here memories are above all generatrixes instances, devices that focus all of their energy to the production of what has never been. They are factory-memories, projections of the future and no longer memory-warehouse, remnant of a passed past.
What these images register, despite everything, is still an “already seen.” But, handled in the operators that modulate their syntactic architecture, that “already seen” that they enunciate only alludes to that which, with all of its burning heart, a time another longed to formulate, conscious of its incompleteness, in its yearning of something else…
Thus, these images are tension of utopia, memories of emancipation—and maybe remembrance of the unachieved, of the longed for in previous times.—Therefore, never simple repositories, repetition or resonance operators…
No: these images do not tell the story of what happened—that it was and always will be the overtaking that the victors make of history. But, maybe, the tenacious testimony of everything that, incorruptible, always refused to accept that the diminished life that it was allowed to live—was all that could be expected, demanded.
Perhaps, the inverted memory of the future that every past—at least as lived in its moment of maximum tension—would have desired to be.
ram_memories
(processing nucleus)
So here there are no longer warehouses, but the work of tireless machines in constant activity. Here the weight and force of memory is not in any isolated object, but in the networks that bring it into play, that vague constellation in which it unfolds. Here memory is a game of interference and intercrosses, a total distribution in a flatland—absolutely no depth. Here memory is the assembly’s valence that each image in its distinctive feature has to link with so many others, in countless directions, in an unavoidable scattering…
These are memories of process, active imagination. Whose power of acting is the virtual infinity of its possible interlocking games. The swarming architecture in which it moves, the clustering in which it is embedded and lost. Thus, everything it remembers is the declension potential that the grid in which it moves holds: every image here is the incessant thought that the network challenges’with a near infinite base of other unites.
An aural sequence of dispersions, where each play increases the range of the equation a degree. In every direction, with no simultaneous order other than the asynchronousand —and atopic encounter. Here “everything that is” can be found—and in fact it does—with everything that is there too—without any order or sequencing, without invoking any common space-time coordinates.
That game of “infinite deliberation” prompts what we could call artificial intelligence, whether unique, whether possible. Only it thinks—for only in its thinking is authentic “poiesis,” a game of invention, not repetition but a powerful completion of free difference.
Yes: these images are jabs of pure activity, the dark force of a thought that no longer presupposes a soul or a conscience, nor the form of a subject—who thinks and arranges them. Not even a body of organs, nor-obviously—is there any promise of eternity, or even less so, fulfilled individuation. But rather this irrepressible movement that swarms everything with everything—sign with sign, form with form,—the deaf hardness of every place of mute matter with its elusive echoes...
anarchives
All the articulation of images with each other is played under the sign of indifference...