Education is slavery, it enchains the mind and makes it a resource for class power. When the ruling class preaches the necessity of an education it invariably means an education in necessity. Education is not the same as knowledge. Nor is it the necessary means to acquire knowledge. Education is the organisation of knowledge within the constraints of scarcity. Education 'disciplines' knowledge, segregating it into homogenous 'fields', presided over by suitably 'qualified' guardians charged with policing the representation of the field. One may acquire an education, as if it were a thing, but one becomes knowledgeable, through a process of transformation. Knowledge, as such, is only ever partially captured by education, its practice always eludes and exceeds it.
Whatever code we hack, be it programming language, poetic language, math or music, curves or colourings, we create the possibility of new things entering the world. Not always great things, or even good things, but new things. In art, in science, in philosophy and culture, in any production of knowledge where data can be gathered, where information can be extracted from it, and where in that information new possibilities for the world are produced, there are hackers hacking the new out of the old. While hackers create these new worlds, we do not possess them. That which we create is mortgaged to others, and to the interests of others, to states and corporations who control the means for making worlds we alone discover. We do not own what we produce - it owns us.
we are hibernating
our dualisms
our lingual dyads
in that ruse of sure
in cerebral vortex
splitting the triad
here anatomy is an alias
a haruspex within
the anonymous radius
this is a stellar
migration
to a cosmic cipher
the rhetoric nethered
to a neurotic nucleus
be it i, in heart
and hull : comatose
on a pelvic diagonal
on an orphic ego,
dogleg & erose
be it you : in nihil est
a tawny talon reaching
inside the blacklash
of a wasp's nest
let me study
your guerrilla ontology
and my post mortem of
that should be a dissertation
on the castration of an apology
dear darling, are you my
ghost or am i your guest?
this is how we sink in love
i as the failed cyborg
you as my turing's test
