June 18, 1999

They couldn’t both make it to the festival. One member of the band performs by videotape display on a television on top of an organ facing the audience. The other member sits behind the television at the keyboard and improvises along. 

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, 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. 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, and that is the choice of commerce, of calcification, of cauterization in 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 altruistic options, there are also the same number of life-shortening, life-stealing, life-ending corruptions. Until we understand possibility and claim it, we are powerless against those who are already operating within its energetic center and generating hordes of hungry beasts. We waste our time trying to uncover the mischievous and dangerous 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.”