Description
Publisher / Executive Editor:
Eldon Garnet.
Managing Editor:
Judith Doyle.
Editors:
Carolyn White, Gerald Owen, and Brian Boigon.
Contributing Editors:
Sylvère Lotringer (New York) and Andrew Payne.
Art Direction:
Carolyn White.
Assembly Assistant:
Werner Arnold.
Business Manager:
Sheila Dee.
Cover Photo:
Boyd Webb.
Cover Design:
Carolyn White.
Table of Contents:
Jeanne Randolph, ‘Letters to an Authority’; Reese Williams, ‘Common Origin’; Albert Russo, ‘Tunisian Fever’; Ken Decker, ‘Cleaning The Tools’; Judith Schwarz, ‘Knossos’; Rebecca Garrett, ‘A Peripatetic Soap Opera’; Fastwürms, ‘The Perfumed Tadpole’; David Rasmus, ‘Photographs’; Susan Schelle, ‘The Death and Burial of Poor Cock Robin’; Brian Boigon, ‘Murder Architecture’; Lori Spring, ‘The Body in Film’; Ken Ludlow, ‘Psycho – Lingo’; David Greenberger, ‘Duplex Planet’; Marino Tuzi, ‘Comic Books and the Neo-cold war Discourse: The Problem of Moral Recuperation’; Carolyn White, ‘Midwifery in Canada’; John O’Neill, interview by Andrew Payne and Richard Wellen; Paul Virilio, Interview by Chris Dercon.
Editorial:
A slight moan, he covers his forehead and eyes with both his hands. Rubs his eyes. Rest? Not working? Difficult to remember the moments when the body was not demanded to perform.
“Your eyes,” he heard, “are like mine, they are enclosed by red dark rings. Do you think it’s a disease?”
And he overheard someone say, “It’s so nice to have someone do all this work for me:’
The proletariat body is an absence of rest.
A small hand stretches to grab at a brightly coloured moving object and almost touches, misses, but scores a red ring which is quickly pulled toward the mouth it almost reaches. The hand tugs and the back arches until the lips are moist and the red ring rubs the tongue.
A deep moan: the articulation of an entire body.
He closes his eyes and rubs the skin around the temples.
“Oh no! The blood isn’t coming off. Will that show?”
Eldon Garnet
Light reflects from an arm. Details of surface texture and fine hairs fix in chemical emulsion. The line of the arm curves, and flesh succumbs to shadow. In memory and association, there is one skin pressed against another’s. A mother’s face wrenched by birth, circled by the arms of a woman who supports her. An infant – Lacan’s homme-lette, half child and half egg – whose twisting face mirrors appetites exactly. Though there are no words, there is the consolation of language, its materiality, tones and very lack of transparency. Even voices resist description, the attempt to construct a double within.
The camera moves, and it’s like touching. Tracing a length of skin, the camera is your hand, lightly caressing, almost floating.
Judith Doyle
