Tech Flesh 11: Femigraphing Frankenstein
I feel the electric energy of a new nodal point coursing through my
body. Another history of Man and machine being written by the male authors of
the biotech revolution and resulting in the final female extermination. In this
moment of technological silencing I think back to Mary Shelley and her political
prose. I read many feminist responses to these new bodily invasions and see the
dilemma, my being a feminist as well. Constructing a discourse about the
gendered forms of power within biotechnologies is itself a reconstruction
cycling within a loop not of our choosing. I feel this tension within my own
body. I create the characters of Mary Shelley, Ms Millennium Femifalse(the
embodiment of post-millennium feminism), and a version of myself as a confused
young feminist. These three voices are in conversation with each other in an
attempt to illustrate the tension I, and others, now feel as feminists
desperately trying to evoke a history of gendered technological exclusion in
order to prevent a future of the same, but always jumping into a
discourse rather than beginning one.
And here is my story of Frankenstein and her future analysts...
H/our cultural coronary — DISconnection — Manifests in monster
(w)rites Ms. Millennium in her analysis of now crusader Mary Shelley. Eye Miss
Mary. That poetry whore. VictorY. Eyespy a telling of a (t)old story. Please
join me on a paperchase.
The femigraphing of Frankenstein continues so for the sake of a
starting-point I shall repeat this typical feminist retelling: Infusion of life
into fragmented cyborg chunks of huMAN FORM stitched together. Undone.
Disconnected(ness) leads the nuclear neuronal narrator to crEATe cybernetic
FEEDback naturally intrinsic to the circuit. Missing humanity makes madman? This
seems to be the conclusion. The anATOMy of a dream is to deconstruct the corpse
into new life. Was Mary a repressed visionary? End. Or so writes our Ms.
Millennium. missing mary. Other versions and verses are im/possible. Palimpsest.
Trying to return to mary's lost victor repeatedly. Loop back to (re)locate
missed mary. Here is one more graphing of mary's meaning. Hear my fiction
of superimposed feminist narration and watch how I too cycle back within
H/our protagonist's absolute bondAge with presentfuture anticipates
future digitized memory chips and participates in cyborg construction for future
de(con)struction through reSurgence of absolution masked (as) dislocation.
Suppose simulation mocks Truth by putting illusions to real meanings so that we
can see them. And so wAS the scribbling scrolled as future texts. SHe wasn't
disconnected as other versions tell us but rather wired within the circuit at
such speed jamming1 our truths
to us. Ms. Millennium (re)cycles the old testament in new high-tech water
resistant packaging. Play Boy. Femifalse spins reel truths. Hyper dislocation
millenniumMADmen miss. Mary. And we memorize mesmerizing memory with more
graphings — incongruent iconic mirages of water make me thirsty in hour
Time-Space context: MilitaryMania shifted to MedicineMuse. Poetry slut
pens VictorY 2K. A feminist's daughter her positioned politicized pen yes wrote
of our future (w)rites. His/Her process of creating the k/new life of mechanized
male monkeys was all about location. Resistance flowing within the electrical
circuit. Wired within us. The process of Hyper-HumaNature alienation transferred
into man draining her life into mechanicalman. No, his process was one of
supreme connection with the future moment and Ms. Millennium was wrong to hype
disconnection. Yes he was crazy. In the sane.3 Seeing
simulated forms before simulation? Mind Blowing! He must have been
alienated by his penetrating connection to (present)history as s/he created
future simulacra with origin.
Seeing the fu(tor)ture of the present, Mary offers us the moment by
writing us through victorvision. By only knowing present truths as a jammed
future4, men are
made a bit too uncomfortable, perhaps. So the story is written as one of present
dislocation which directly renders invisible the absolute connection female
bodies feel to this dislocating system. By bringing its opposite to conscious
being, a self-sufficient deterrence machine starts to spin.5 Victors
all-consuming resonance with presentfuture gets disguised as its opposite.
Apparently this initial simulation was soooo successful that Ms. Millennium is
caught with her pants down. Again, nobly recycling within a loop.
A Telling Tale. H_our narrator screams silently. No now, only HIStory.
Through a process of exclusion HERstory is included in a data flow of negation
peopled by the ghosts of others' fears. In a lost battleground of tattered flags
mary lovingly offers the ghosts names. The cycle continues. Loop-Back-Again.
Victors voice of dominant discourse spoke through the haunted authors'
present to her anticipating audiences. Exposing intimate connection to
presentfuture dislocation places a high-speed glitch in mechanized deterrence.
Her process: Searching future sign for present-historical origin, revealing
future simulation. MIND BLITZ. Houston we have a problem. Fixtheglitch.
Wait. What is the story mary tells us and through who. Victor and Femigraphings?
Return to Mary's VictorY.
Again. Victors positivistic paradigm paradise presents the
prosthetic possibility post-coitus. Analogue. Within the scientific dreamlife of
me/n hour story (re)surfaces. My battery hurts already. Repeat. The
dislocation emboDied by the fictitious, presents the boundary based
location of the real. This is the pre-modern CARNivAL anticipation of postmodern
simulated forms. Victors progress/ive disconnection tells of our author's
location within a dislocating high-speed scientistic system. The
power of the penned virtual historical fiction is in its/his/her link to the
naked, shivering, longing, lonely, collective... moment of transgressive
festival. Embodied. Embalmed. Refracted. Cemented and bound. Palimpsest. Loop.
"Dear Mary— My Blessed Daughter of Eve makes madman cursed by
contemporaries; crucified consistently. We do you proud. Our rallies
and texts sing your once strange speak. The silenced may have solace. The
message mARCHES on. You are (in) my prayers. Ms. Millennium."
"Dearest Ms. Millennium— We shall disCount madmen? Wh* are they?
K/not? Recycle nobly for you are Eve's REAL Daughter. I merely vibrate as
Shakespeare's aborted sister. Mary."
Reconciled: A looping smile. Regurgitation/Feedback. Again.
I often imagine conference calls with ghosts. Picturing what they
might say. And all of the screaming yet silenced worlds within our space. I can
see each new ball-point pen, just as Mary's, piercing a sack filled with fluids
now able to freely swirl. Yet eventually they too absorb each other again. Soon
each shade again appears primary. But... not without passing through the sacred
ecstasy of within.6 I too
shall write to Mary.
"Mary— They eagerly jump into the river causing splashes, quickly
absorbed into current currents. What is the point of soaking in their water?
The knowing laughter of fish my only sanity. Miss you."
"Friend— I'm smiling. softly. So easy to sweepingly dive into
sound. Is that a place of true noise? Till..."
There is truth in the sadness of knowing we swim within another's pool
even in our moments of greatest resistance. I too wish to haunt but in new
places. The fight continues. Listen to the future of presenTHIStory. just
"Dear Mary— In response to our previous dialogue I must confess
that a receiving blanket of confusion drapes me. Do we not honor your noble
life's work by proceeding on as we do? I am most concerned. Ms.
"Dearest Ms. Millennium— Oh yes, it is meaningful indeed. But
please, enough about me. To your dilemma. Through the looking glass of
time I bare witness to the movement of your worthy efforts. I am left with
only these observations. From your point of Genesis have you not willingly
catapulted onto the(ir) discursive wire and now desperately hold on for dear
life as speed is repeatedly increased? My simple thoughts are of another time.
Your point of departure, long ago in the history of the already written
future, is where your choices ended. And long ago in the history of the future
I too am most concerned.
We kill Victor. Y. Again-Again-Again-"
I am referring to Luce Irigaray's notion of "jamming" the system implying that
the act of jamming makes the system tense with contradiction.
I take the term "desert" from Jean Baudrillard and his contention that the
postmodern era is characterized by a "desert of the real". See Jean Baudrillard
Simulacra and Simulation, The University of Michigan Press:1994. I use
the term "hour desert" to evoke a sense of time's desert (or our desert within
this time in history) following Baudrillard.
I am thinking of Stephen Pfohl's discussion of being crazy, or, in the sane, in
the introductory chapter of Images of Deviance and Social Control: A
Sociological History, 2nd Ed., McGraw Hill:1994
Again, I am referring to Luce Irigaray's conception of "jamming" the system.
I am influenced by Jean Baudrillard and his discussion of "deterrence" systems
in Simulacra and Simulation, The University of Michigan Press:1994.
I am referring to the term "Sacred of Transgressive" as the sacrificing of
closed boundaries which is discussed by Patricia Williams in The Alchemy of
Race and Rights, Harvard University Press:1991
Patricia Leavy is a Ph.D. candidate in sociology at Boston
© CTheory. All Rights Reserved