Text Festival, 2011

Welcome to the Text Festival.

The Text Festival in Bury is an internationally recognised event investigating contemporary language art (poetry, text art, sound and media text, live art). Opening on 29 April 2011, the next Festival will be its third manifestation and run into July.

Against the background of global stylistic multiplicity, the use of language spans many artforms and may even be a unifying field of enquiry, a new definition and a new field of international linguistic art practice and dialogue. The Bury Festival is the leading focus of language in 21st Century art.

The Festival specialises in experiments, in new experiences, in performances and exhibitions that mix artforms in ground-breaking combinations that challenge traditional language art boundaries and offer artists a forum for dialogue and exchange of ideas.

Events:

The opening: 

http://www.textfestival.com/events/events.php?eid=35

Ron Silliman (USA), Satu Kaikkonen & Karri Kokko (FIN), and Phil Minton's Bury Feral Choir:

http://www.textfestival.com/events/events.php?eid=36

Sound and Dark:

http://www.textfestival.com/events/events.php?eid=37

MERZTEXTE:
http://www.textfestival.com/events/events.php?eid=38

Sound and Dark (2):
http://www.textfestival.com/events/events.php?eid=39

Exhibitions:

http://www.textfestival.com/exhibitions/

Publications:

http://www.textfestival.com/publications/

x is x

In the limits of a delirium/

In the limits of a delirium I have been thinking or rather becoming thought as an excess of reflexive pain about the hellucinations of texts as fiction //Literature is fashioned out of the irrational sickness of a mind leaving the obscure synaptic fractured intervals of phantasy to illuminate what is the mechanical decomposition of their mind/ corroded with narcissistic desire to add to the all ready overflowing shelves of data trash/ How inter-tangled /How confused how filthy their words leak from the orifices of their body/ In the dark flame of desire only the theoretical fiction is worth the effort for it in its non-being illuminates the impossible of the penetrating thought/the accumulation of words is only a tactic of delay hoping to put off the arrival of death/ Three nights of insomnia have bought me to a space of intoxicated fatality/ The death machine has no end to the erosion of corrosive waste which flows out in a bloody river to embrace you/ No word can cause death to abandon its memory/The only solution to the sickness of this delirium that is writing is for the writer to annihilate what has already been written/Cling to the indifference of the ruins of yr works/the fatality with the communication of horror and disgust is all that needs to be said and only once/The rest is caca/ Emerging from the blackness that will extinguish it/ we have gone beyond the the full weight of being and words cannot save nor explicate our delirious entrapment in the Post Verbal Gap of noise as an admission that I fail utterly as a writer/

APPARATUS OF PARANOID CRITICAL ACTIVITY/

A teleological pulverising of abject inexistence into an idol of broken reason
Pure aggression glides above the clouds obscuring cancerous ardour the work of negation and destruction in clouds of servile dust the ordinance falls
The polished anodyne rivets the density of pure atomic matter
What substance abuse immobilizes you other than the critical
elements of sarcasm irony and violent irrational synapse of flying
visceral lacerations demanding the conquest of irrationality
becomes fatigue lines in the belly of the cluster of selfish ideological chaos
motives silent and turned within against the interior monologue
a lightening intervention stress fractures excess is always extreme
Devotion is inextricable from intensity stabbing holes in the ripped dark sky
Emergent thinking as imagination a case of synonymous anarchy
Entirely unattended at our inevitable extinction each one alone
The will to life is to over come death the unsurpassable chaotic zero/
She is a triumph of radio activity her wounds belong to quantum physics
A recurrence of beauty in love with love itself looking for strange interferences with her miscarried thirst for sensuality of perpetual identity panic/

un_BEEP*alive_able

washing the metallic taste out of my wounded mouth
while my right ear was listening to the covering nasty green flavor trying to expand
i got smashed into framed horizons of those synapses
that would constantly choke themselves by
copying one frame of mind to the end of some sinister event
dead end but it would never appear it could be happening now
left ear heard the sound of keys
yes
i locked the box until glue would be leaking for the rest of those
it just didn‘t deserve this odiously transpiration
nothing but oppression nothing but regression
i was fed up with the taste
my stomach turned
it wouldn't be fading
starting to pull my teeth one by one using the red wrench
my jaw just dropped realizing i had chewed someone‘s bones
all brittle all torn worn by skins of them being limp larva
full of blood the taste got worse
those souls must have been never born isometric
why else would they be able to such loathsomeness
they wouldn‘t accept the lobotomies that simply needed to be a fact
so i put down the toothbrush that was the worst fungal attack of this day
pressing my head down under the swamp of my gnarled body
this repetition would just starting to continue in the loop of lachrymosity
no
i just left the bathroom having this oilskin tongue
which i would decide to cut in half
one side neglected
the other kept forcing psittacosis to my body
no
i swallowed
i fell
lock_


you make me smile
but as my muscles make my body believe
i would...
i fly_because you do¬

text

freshly it was time to undress the tar paint was spilling life's colors to the sound of birth
all turned to fast as they closed the light and neatly placed it out of reach of those that felt it was getting hot

why was to scream illegal


suddenly heads would get cuffed and tapered....{pt1)

bestrating

In een oneindige bibliotheek, het boek
dekt zijn allemaal grijs en rood. Het verhaal
werd ontworpen daar.

De bestrating van de woestijn
scheuren, en de nomade leider
Wanders voor hoger grond.

Nummers voor het eerst in mijn leven dichter,
maar ranting in een abstracte rand van
televisie is een liedje dat ik schuw.

scheme of which s

the 's' of your
m0ther_s:ON
illustrer anblick ohne zeit,
doch gebunden ohne körperliche ewigkeit -
could this be of any help
now that a returning hour would go down
with the twelve suns coming up

centered believe was not a reliable choice but a matter
of the cat scratching her eyes back in time



oh so trebl ed time
unlea shed
the
dogs
of serta noil

many suppliers delivered at instancesthrough fur borough
and so called skins tied nine
of them back in 1951


while starring at your output
frames trespass the limit of lesswake down sleepwalking love put one up to fine adjustments
hand her the multiple atom sang by ancient voices
do it was the mind falling

When Not in a Railway Carriage He Minds.


In a Railway carriage he doesnt mind vertigo
It brings miniscule mail from the tomb
What if I poke my finger in there?
they will prepare veal sandwiches in tea coops
why rock serves you right thrump

downstairs organs rattling round lost bearings
Fortitudinal footrests drive down the prices.. Lord!
whiffle snackle fresh cream turn the dryclean round

equally eloquently he pops his head round the door
he is wearing only his steering wheel.


.

hurry up and get dressed

Infinite I speak sequences, count steps
barking dog painting Space, leg raised
You are One-half of a half of a half . . .
Wound down, dwindling digits
Anger, bitter fucking rage
Here, that rages, now
Void bait
Apple thoughts beget no apples
You were perfect until I stood here
Conceivably perfect, or with worms
Experience is the worm
What if I just fucked you?
Two particles, here maybe
You are time and a grain of sand
So I fucked you and left
Tic Toc Tic Toc Tic Toc
Sequence

DiDiaRtuaR

Do you remember 110 Charlie?
Chickpoint of emotional perversion.
I was very was, wasy.
I am completly was in DiDiaRtuaR.
Areservated in aRsverat
point zwentri or sventri.
Und nun die Tagesordnung:
Initiation
backdownheadradiation
wright right - trail dawn
Das ist das Wort.
You know, there is some oR
in aR woRld.
SpiraR howl through the moon.
Come IC disco
in locomotive intoR
Can you vehicle me to home
OinaR OinaR
Train -major
Ferdinand Esisist Sizisist
Isticism, sisticism, pisticism
mysticism sm sm sm sm
R child scream to train - hair on curve.
Opeq Samovar That Chor
cuore sacre cuore sacre cuore
Oprepcy in room 2R7
It is huge white chirck
with no color Miniature.
Haunt do you feel?
wasy chicky.
And now Duett
WhataFa & Chirck
from PtRsn at once Holy Shit
PtRsncism & Wat´son
Störer der oR.
They want to put me in sitery
full automatic smoke king aRthuaR.
Ich transpiriere deine Inhalation,
elephant smells like empty glass
oR Not
Geezoonkeit
That was a journey through
Scriptum Deluxe ohne gleichen.


(caballé voltage lyrics by André Pissoir & Fernando Béton)

tekst spoken

Mensen praten, monden bewegen.

Ze hinken langs het spoor reciteren van het alfabet, de handen gekoppeld, tongen fladderende zoals weinig vlaggen kondigen hun land van verlangen.

Een geur van jodium en koude vis zweeft door.

Het vertrouwde ebbs en vult zich net als alle goede adem.

Plaatsen iedereen.

De acteurs nemen hun zetels, wissen hun glimlacht in voorzichtige knippert; de muziek lozingen heen, een zinderende en een plof.

U weet dit, en de een die komt volgende.

Onderdelen zijn kamers zonder meubilair.

Somehow I got hooked/

my voice is reverberating in the hull of a deserted intergalactic Freighter everything is valid when it becomes to obtaining the desired suddenness from certain associations that make no sense/the Codeine Wars Desert of Nagazaki absence of will that becomes the very factor that determined how we became post human/discipline makes individuals fascist/The is not enough hysteria in the world and too much panic/ Nils has been drinking with the Spittting Boys/The Control Apparatus had logged his absence/narcotic spoors of evidence were scattered over the floor/they had confiscated his drigs/he would come to the end of the same thought/which meanings that meaning is just regulated noise and noise is to be regulated meaning/