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FleshFactor: Fleshfactor as a Busby Berkeley routine

A E C  F O R U M - "F L E S H F A C T O R"

Fleshfactor as a Busby Berkeley routine

The problem with chaos, any chaos, is that it is a matter of perspective.
Think of a lovely, perfect tornado, dropping down from the cloudy
maelstrom like a breast, and then a ghostly pale umbilicus, trembling and
twirling through the sky, pink on the inside (so a trucker told me as we
waited one out the other day near La Crosse, Wisconsin), and such a
random, terrible killer up close. Fleshfactor sucks us in, all so various,
anxiously creative, willingly anarchical. Firmly in its grip, the
Fleshfactor machine forces us to nail things down and then it straightens
us out, puts us in threads and chronologies, archives us, books us. We are
institutionalized, part of art history. Such is the horror of anarchy, the
noise that with too many voices becomes a dull drone. 

My own life seems pleasantly chaotic, but I see nothing but control in the
big picture, through the big screen. Such is the vortex of culture. Yet I
(with multiple eyes) also still dream of the death, the freedom, the
spitting out. 

Brian Leigh Molyneaux    <moly@sunflowr.usd.edu>

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