Tuesday, May 23, 2006

parasitical confession











The parasite glides on the tongues of theoreticians, philosophers and dancer/artists. Some are marked as students, a rhythmed space on the canvas of transition, perhaps? Some are invited senior guests with a discourse (pragmatic and otherwise) exfoliating in the virtual. Some are both and/or neither. The parasite is an effective chameleon hiding in the crevices of these organs for years. It is rarely alone. No one suspects it/they would dare move through the wet moisture of a thought or forge an unspoken relation with bodily resources (even virtual ones!).

A parasite may mutate into a viral load that slides through the skin of thought and say very little. These viruses are neither alive nor dead, but awaken to the memory of the movement of thought. This is neither a poetic nor a metaphorical gesture. To represent viruses as a metaphor of movement is to misunderstand its relation to the flesh and bodies without organs. The viruses infect through a transition in relation. They cannot become without the touch of translation. The viruses reach a terminus once the RNA has decoded and re-encoded DNA, replicating themselves. Or they perish once the concept has reached satisfaction. This movement dances without the knower knowing. If the knower knew the dance there would be no more dance.

The viruses lives for and with the dance. They recycle into the parasite. The singular merges with the multiple. The abstract dances with the concrete. The concrete dances with the abstract. The dance, then, is polyrhythmic. This parasite moves with the dance, unbeknownst to the most seasoned dancers. It is a pragmatic dance, and an everyday occurrence for the parasite that is also the dancer. It is the being of the parasite dancing, not the parasite being that moves the relation of dancer/parasite. This flow of movement is imperceptible—but do you feel its weight and force?

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