Abstract: Poesis and the Procedural

If it is accepted, here is an abstract for a panel my colleagues, poets Sten Carlson and Robin Clarke, and myself propose to deliver at the 2011 Society for Literature Science and the Arts Conference in Waterloo, Ontario this September.

Poesis and the Procedural

This panel will begin by framing and reading from a collaborative manuscript of poetry, Dear Human Converter Box, a book conceptually situated in the interface between artificial intelligence and poetics. The authors will read from the manuscript and gloss some of its central theoretical and political concerns, which include the procedural and collaborative processes involved in its composition. This portion of the panel will conclude with a multimedia “performance” of one poem via a text-to-voice application. The third panelist will present a general theory of “poetic assemblage” and engage specifically with Dear Human Converter Box as an instance of such assemblage.

Dear Human Converter Box: Poetry in the Age of Intelligent Machines
    —Sten Carlson and Robin Clarke, University of Pittsburgh

Panelists will read from and discuss their line-for-line collaboration, Dear Human Converter Box, abook-length sequence of poems that investigates the possibilities of a machinic intelligence brought to bear on the making of poetry. Taking two texts—Giambattista Vico’s The New Science and Manuel DeLanda’s War in the Age of Intelligent Machines—as its conceptual frame of reference, the book stages the transfer of cognitive structures from humans to machines in the late twentieth century, bringing an experimental, oppositional poetics to bear on those very cognitive structures. Once artificial intelligence has been achieved, DeLanda argues, “we might imagine specialized ‘robot historians’ committed to tracing the various technological lineages that gave rise to their species.” One of the wagers of this project is that, whereas the robot historian would largely assemble genealogies to describe, illustrate, and account for the history of AI (a history, DeLanda points out, that would look very different than one written by a human historian), the robot poet would involve itself in processes of aesthetic experimentation and discovery that would interrupt, complicate and transform the fundamental forms of such an intelligence. Considering, for example, that artificial intelligence has developed largely along procedural lines in the service of the military-industrial complex, what are the implications on that intelligence of a felt and imagined machinic poesis capable of (in Vico’s terms) “perturbing to excess” its own rational, barbarous properties and processes? Put differently, how is the poem—as a site of imagination, critique, pleasure, irrelevancy, excess—a technology capable of refusing strictly rational “intelligence” as such? As a line-for-line collaboration between two poets, Dear Human Converter Box takes up these problems not only at the thematic and formal levels, but at the level of the composition process itself. Certain objective formal constraints put into place in the book, as well as freestanding language systems like ready-made word “palettes” and appropriated source materials create systems of information, knowledge, and music continually assembling themselves in ways the authors hadn’t anticipated. On the one hand, the formal techniques and collaborative processes in this project enact the very processes of assemblage and emergence that the book is about. On the other, collaboration and assemblage challenge the suppositions of much lyric poetry that posits the poem as an isolated, autonomous, and rarified aesthetic object and the author as a discreet, ahistorical and unmediated identity. As both enactment and opposition, then, the poetry in this book emerges—via mutual aid, inspiration, contradiction, multiplication—as what our co-panelist Bradley Fest calls a “poetics of assemblage.”

The Robot Poet: Toward an Assemblage Theory of Poetry / a Poetics of Assemblage
—Bradley J. Fest, University of Pittsburgh

One of the major impasses that any coherent theoretical or critical approach to poetry has historically faced was accounting for the relationship between part and whole in the poetic text. Whether it was the New Critical emphasis on looking at the whole of the poem-itself, deconstruction’s focus on parts that broke the form of the whole, theories of influence where the whole was the entire canon of Western literature, or the many other critical approaches that have flourished in the wake of theory, entire schools of literary criticism have often been defined by their approach to this problem. Drawing upon the work of Manuel DeLanda and his mobilization and codification of Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari’s theory of assemblage, this paper will attempt to point toward an assemblage theory of poetry. What assemblage theory offers, I will argue, is a mode of looking at poetry that can simultaneously account for the absolute heterogeneity of the various parts that make up a poem, while able to retain a complex view of the assembled whole, a view that understands any assemblage to also be a part of other poetic assemblages. To demonstrate how such a critical approach might be undertaken I will engage with the work of my colleagues on this panel, Sten Carlson and Robin Clarke, and further suggest that their ongoing collaborative project Dear Human Converter Box points toward a poetics of assemblage, a poetry that fundamentally understands itself as an emergent property of the process of imaginative assemblage.

Some Recent Apocalyptic Stuff

Over in Guernica, there are two recent articles. One is Alexis Madrigal’s “Nuclear Haze,” which discusses some of the historical markers of nuclear energy. The other is an excerpt from Slavoj Žižek’s Living in the End Times, titled (quite interestingly) “The Un-Shock Doctrine.”

David James Keaton pointed me to these 51 post-apocalyptic images (though most of them look like they come from, or are art accompanying the Fallout games). Here’s a sample:

It turns out that Leó Szilárd , one of the father’s of the atomic bomb, wrote some posthuman sf.

Junot Díaz weighs in on the apocalypse, at the Boston Review.

And an excerpt from Evan Calder Williams’s quite fascinating Combined and Uneven Apocalypse (Winchester, UK: Zero Books, 2011):

“However, The Bed Sitting Room and the salvagepunk aesthetic more generally grasps that we’ve been living after the apocalypse for a while now, and that the problem is too much of the hidden has been revealed. Too much uncovered data, too many telling images, too many public secrets. It’s piling up everywhere and making it impossible to find the correct enemies, the right cracks to widen, the right ways to attack and build better. In this sense, salvagepunk post-apocalypticism is concerned with being more apocalyptic than the apocalypse: clearing away the clutter to reveal the true hidden-in-plain-view, namely, the deep, permanent antagonisms on which capitalism runs and the untenability of that system’s capacity to run” (56).

Some Metablog Action: An Excerpt

My good friend Sten Carlson just pointed me toward this: from Jodi Dean’s fairly excellent (if slight unfortunately named) Blog Theory:

Blogging has been associated with murder and death ever since the mainstream media starting [sic] noticing it (around 2002). Just like video killed the radio star, film killed vaudeville, and television killed bowling leagues, so did blogs allegedly kill journalism and mainstream media, replacing these with idiots and amateurs who failed to check their facts and ranted about their pet issues (as well as issues with their pets). There’s a constant underlying all this killing–corporate power. Even as some media forms eclipse others, global conglomerates profit from the innovations while pernicious arrangements of state power benefit from a diverted populace. Television can’t deliver the requisite eyeballs? No problem. Switch gears, locate other sites to capitalize. The dominance of capitalism as a system requires changes in industry; innovation drives capitalism. State forms adapt as well: disintegrated spectacles allow for ever more advanced forms of monitoring, tracking, and surveillance. People plead for more cameras to keep them safe as they shop and happily relinquish personal data in exchange for saving a few cents here or there, for shaving seconds off this site or that (Jodi Dean, Blog Theory: Feedback and Capture in the Circuits of Drive [Malden MA: Polity, 2010], 39)

Toward a Hyperarchival Realism (2.0): Some Occasional Notes on the Pale King

Times they are a changing. The spring is struggling like Sisyphus to get here once and for all in the ‘burgh; one class on American Literature is ending, and my first foray into Introduction to Critical Reading [1]is beginning; one dissertation chapter’s first draft is complete, and Pynchon is officially on the docket now [2]; but in the middle of all this, and slightly unexpectedly, along comes—like a thief in the night (i.e. early), an unexpected (boredom) drug left Moses-like on my doorstep, and a cruel, cruel joke from the dissertation gods—David Foster Wallace’s The Pale King.

And oh has it come. Even the print rags are on fire about it (though surely nothing like DFW’s compatriot’s most recent novel Freedom). I haven’t even had the stomach to check out The Howling Fantods to see where they might be pointing me w/r/t Wallace’s posthumous novel. I guess I just didn’t think it would be such a big-deal release as it has proven to be; I mean, even my mom is practically cutting out newspaper articles and sending them to me. And the public attention to Wallace is, frankly, only exacerbating my weird working-relationship w/ him. I.e., I feel kinda done for a while, happy to get on to the next thing; and of course, waiting on my doorstep in the end is this novel. My students are reading it (either explicitly or clandestinely). David James Keaton, for chrissakes, sent me a text about it. [3] In other words, it feels like something to be written about. [4]

But I honestly would prefer not to. And this isn’t just because Tom McCarthy ended his recent review of the novel, “The Last Audit,” w/ a reference to the scrivener. Really, I kinda just don’t want to say anything about it right now. Everyone else who’s saying stuff is saying it pretty well. I think everyone agrees w/ the basic fact that, well, yes, this is an unfinished novel. There are moments that are intensely boring to read (I guess on purpose). And that it truly is one of the great tragedies of our time to lose such a gifted writer so young.

In terms of giving it a “critical” reception at this time, I suppose it just simply seems a bit early. I mean, the novel isn’t even fresh up out’ve the ground yet (or something).[5] That and I’m just exhausted, and basically need some DFW-breathing-room. So instead I’d like to offer a couple occasional notes that glanced across my brain which could potentially be pursued as moving toward a definition of my term “hyperarchival realism”:

—the novel is hyperarchival realism. W/o a doubt. Any discussion of this novel has to start from this point and perhaps take that as a given.

—What does this mean?

—§25 (pp. 310-313) is a particularly brutal/obvious/hammer-over-the-head-type example of this.

—Claude Sylvanshine, able to recall or forsee seemingly unimportant facts about people—he is a “fact psychic”—and how that allows Wallace to emphasize the value of certain information; being able to sort through massive amounts of data for the relevant facts is a certain kind of ethical/quasi-spiritual ontology. (See pp. 330-333.)

–Two important lengthy quotes from the substitute Jesuit teacher:

“‘In today’s world, boundaries are fixed, and most significant facts have been generated. Gentleman, the heroic frontier now lies in the ordering and deployment of those facts. Classification, organization, presentation. To put it another way, the pie has been made—the contest is now in the slicing.’”

“I think part of what was so galvanizing was the substitute’s diagnosis of the world and reality as already essentially penetrated and formed, the real world’s constituent info generated, and that now a meaningful choice lay in herding, corralling, and organizing that torrential flow of info. This rang true to me, though on a level that I don’t think I even was fully aware existed within me.”[6]

—Wallace is talking about in each of these moments is what Charles Stross calls Economy 2.0.

—Drinion is either a zen-tax-man, or a machine. I’m going for machine. Big fat posthuman tax-machine. Donna Harraway and the whole nine yards.

–It is important that in Infinite Jest, when Hal is attempting to communicate but is really just making sub-animalistic noises–he says, “‘I believe, with Hegel, that transcendence is absorption.”

—and perhaps last, this novel would have been really good if Wallace had finished it.


[1] My major intellectual struggle right now: how and why would/should I teach N.’s The Birth of Tragedy.

[2] Which also means I’ll be renaming any space/home/desk/library/cathedral of learning I may be inhabiting anytime soon The White Visitation Research Facility for Neglected Sciences.

[3] Though dude, I could totally do w/o the random nude photo the other day. dude.

[4] Even if I hesitate to, b/c, of course, there might be more dissertation here. . . .

[5] This is of course also to suggest that something like a “DFW cottage industry” has sprung up around his untimely demise, and though I cannot help but to participate in it (and tell myself I was going to be writing about him now long before 2008), it is also something I would like to avoid in a self-serving fashion if possible (which, of course, put in Wallace’s terms we all now know how such a statement would occasion perhaps a quite-lengthy aside regarding the fact that acknowledging one’s own self-serving nature did not in fact reflect/deflect the additional fact that even such a statement is capable of being eminently self-serving, etc., so will not put it in such terms), so will attempt to.

[6] David Foster Wallace, The Pale King (New York: Little, Brown & Co., 2011), 232, 240.

Others Toward a Hyperarchival Realism (1.0)

As I’m sure will be more and more often, I’m finding examples of other people attempting to account for what I have recently been calling and will continue to call, with enthusiasm, “hyperarchival realism.”  (That said, I still am working through this term, so have yet to define it concretely or coherently. I imagine this will not be the case quite soon. Stay tuned.)

The first such example I will give (in what might perhaps go on to be a series of such examples) is a fairly interesting essay from the editors of n+1 on what they are calling “The Information Essay.” What they are talking about is precisely an example of hyperarchival realism.

An Excerpt from The Pale King

In commemoration of tax day tomorrow (The Pale King‘s official release date) and in light of the oh-so-wonderful government budget-slashing going on everywhere, I thought I’d provide this nice little excerpt from Wallace’s The Pale King (a conversation set in 1980):

“Let’s get back to how a Bush or Reagan would triple the [IR]Service budget for a second? Is this good for us on a District level? What are the implications for a Peoria or a Creve Coeur?”

“Of course the marvelous double irony of the Reduce Government candidate is that he’s financed by the coporations that are the backs governmnent tends to be most oppressively on the back of. Corporations, as DeWitt pointed out, whose beady little brains are lit by nothing but net profit and expansion, and who we deep-down expect government to keep in check because we’re not equipped to resist their consumerist seductions by the strength of our own character, and whose appeal to the faux rebel is the modern rhetoric that’s going to get Bush-Reagan elected in the first place, and who are going to benefit enormously from the laissez-faire deregulation Bush-Reagan will enable the electorate to believe will be undertaken in their own populist interests–in other words we’ll have for a president a symbolic Rebel against his own power whose election was underwritten by inhuman soulless profit-machines whose takeover of American civic and spiritual life will convince Americans that rebellion against the soulless inhumanity of corporate life will consist in buying products from corporations that do the best job of representing corporate life as empty and soulless. We’ll have a tyranny of conformist nonconformity presided over by a symbolic outsider whose very election depended on our deep conviction that his persona is utter bullshit. A rule of image, which because it’s so empty makes everyone terrified–they’re small and going to die, after all–”

“Christ, the death thing again.”

“–and whose terror of not really ever even existing makes them that much more susceptible to the ontological siren song of the corporate buy-to-stand-out-and-so-exist gestalt” (David Foster Wallace, The Pale King [New York: Little, Brown & Co., 2011], 149).

The Ominous Arrival of the Pale King

So, I’m not joking about this at all: David Foster Wallace’s forthcoming posthumous novel, The Pale King (2011), which is not due out for two weeks yet, arrived early today in my mailbox. Now, if it had arrived at virtually any other moment in time I would have simply been pleased to receive something I’ve been looking forward to for quite a while, but for it arrive today, today, the day I finished the first complete draft of my (very long indeed) dissertation chapter on ole DFW, a chapter I’ve been working on for almost a year now, a subject I researched for months, and have been writing since about October. . . well . . . .

As I cannot help but be in high-gear-grad-school-dissertation-anxiety-mode, one might think the universe is trying to tell me something, and I’ve boiled down the universe’s message to the following possibilities: 1) Great job on getting that massive amount of work finished! On to the next thing (Pynchon), and oh, by the way, here’s a little (much appreciated) gift for all your trouble; or, the far more disturbing 2) Ha ha! Just when you thought you were done w/ something a 500+ pg. novel of the writer you’re working on shows up on your door to potentially confound everything you’ve been working on so diligently and single-mindedly on for so long you can’t remember what it is like to not work on DFW. Nelson’s taunts (from the ole The Simpsons) have nothing on the universe if it is indeed taunting me in this way.

All that said, 50 pp. in and it looks like #1 is the universe’s msg., though I still have 500 pp. to go, and knowing the nature of such complex entities as “universal msgs.,” I’m not hedging any bets. Stay tuned. . . .

A Brief Note on This Week’s Episode of The Event, “Face Off”

So in all likelihood, The Event (2010-11) will join Stargate Universe (2009-11) as yet another SF casualty this year, being canceled, like so many SF shows of late, before it got a chance to really even get going.[1] But this is not for a lack of sincerely trying to keep a fickle audience enthralled. The writers of The Event have explicitly commented upon the lessons they’ve learned from such shows as Lost—i.e. they will raise huge plot-point questions and answer them quickly, like in the same episode they were raised (of course leading to other questions, which will be also answered quickly). The Event, from what I’ve seen, is very much dedicated to not stringing its viewers along w/ dangling MacGuffins week after week in order to create suspense. And if this last week’s episode “Face Off” is any indication, they’re trying to do more than just that.

Unlike SGU right now, The Event is not poking along, exploring relatively unimportant character psychology and non-big-picture-type-side-plots, but rather hitting us over the head again and again w/ game-changing “events.” (Yes I will spoil them.) In this last week’s episode alone a major character died, hundreds of alien refugees were killed by the US government, the Washington Monument was destroyed, it was revealed that these aliens had been among and had been persecuted by humans for thousands of years, the alien presidential aid’s cover was blown, and the sexy femme-fatale’s past as a CIA operative was partially revealed. In other words, “Face Off” was the kind of episode we usually only get at the beginning and end of seasons: major things happening that radically effect everything. The writers of The Event are clearly attempting to draw attention to the show, stay relevant, and create weekly episodes that are not just serial little entries that may add one thing or another, but essentially don’t really advance the story very much (I’m looking at you Lost). To put it bluntly: they are trying to stay on the air. And their efforts have produced one of the best mid-season SF episodes in recent memory. This is why the show will be canceled.

For what is perhaps apparent, the Nielsen ratings don’t measure fan involvement w/ a show, they don’t measure a viewer’s annoyance over a plodding plot, nor do they measure when a show really hits on every single cylinder and produces something very rare: a midseason episode which was frankly brilliant just in terms of its televisual form (i.e. a lot of stuff happened). What they measure is the “average” viewer who probably couldn’t care less what they’re watching so long as they’re staring at the television. The achievement of this last week’s episode of The Event then will most likely be a hollow one, for what they are attempting to do (not be Lost) will be “lost” on the average viewer (and really, Lost stayed on for six seasons b/c of its ridiculous plot lines). I hope I’m proven wrong, but if history is any guide—i.e. a show gets canceled when it’s starting to get really interesting, which takes time, something The Event is attempting to jump over, and just get straight to the interesting stuff—then The Event is about to get canceled w/ a huge ax. It just got too good too fast; and that the networks cannot abide for they cannot let any show be more interesting than the commercials which air alongside it.


[1] SGU is esp. sad b/c they canceled the show after this current season had been written (and filmed, I think), so I expect their plan on a five season run will leave viewers woefully unsatisfied when this season draws to a close.