June 18, 1999

They couldn’t both make it to the festival. One band member performs via videotape playback displayed on a television placed atop an organ facing the audience. The other member, who was able to attend, sits at the keyboard and improvises along to the video recording.

The basic building blocks of our existence, the wave/particle duality, the quantum state of all possibilities co-exist. Yet we limit our comprehension, our anticipation, our analysis to single-state realities. We can harvest this multiversal potential pregnant in each moment and space; shifting, damming and redirecting the flow of complacency from washing out new territories before we even see what they might be. We are not gods, nor do we advocate for a self-appointed divinity to sidestep or transcend the very real limitations of our human nature. Yet our imagination is unlimited, and it is fuel for our bodies in space, our bodies’ range of motion. Some have developed parlor tricks to springboard into this liminality for their own profit and pleasure. This is a false substitute, however, and just reinforces a choice already set out. That is the choice of commerce, of calcification, of cauterization to the greatest story ever sold.

Possibility rests in faith, an open-ended belief that spreads in all directions. It is an energy source, which if harnessed unlocks a freedom unlike any. But freedom is a two-way street, one direction to something benevolent and one direction malevolent. It is easily corruptible; just as there are nearly incalculable generative and mutually beneficial options, there are also the same number of life-shortening and life-stealing corruptions. 

Until we understand possibility and claim it, we are powerless against those who are already operating within its energetic center, generating hordes of hungry beasts. We waste our time trying to uncover the mischievous in the deep woods, the covens of spell casters, when the real occult, the real merciless and perilous wizardry is that of the global financial abstraction. The fog of capital eats us in its silent digestive moistness.

David Harvey describes Henri Lefebvre’s “idea of a moment” from La Somme Eet Le Reste,  “…he interpreted as fleeting but decisive sensations (of delight, surrender, disgust, surprise, horror, or outrage) which were somehow revelatory of the totality of possibilities contained in daily existence. Such movements were ephemeral and would pass instantaneously into oblivion, but during their passage all manner of possibilities — often decisive and sometimes revolutionary — stood to be uncovered and achieved. ‘Moments’ were conceived of as points of rupture, of radical recognition of possibilities and intense euphoria. The idea was to be put to work to understand sublime moments of revolutionary fervor.”