The introduction by Lee Beckworth to 'in dim forgotte(n)/ Incunabula Media

 

Negtropics of Imaginary Cruising/

A genealogy of flows of intensity In Dim Forgotte[n] by Michael Mc Aloran

Michael Mc Aloran/s latest text has discovered and excavated a landscape of interminable desire/of excessive imaginary fields/a place where no reader has been and certainly no writer has documented before/this figural dimension/with such subversive textual skill and discipline as Mc Aloran/ Contemporary existential ideology tells the subject to pay attention and take control of their life to learn from the past and look to the future with its sprawling information freeways of algorithmic meaning/Mc Aloran defies this process with a work that defines a future without implicit meaning or narrative direction organising his world to his advantage with a style[less] fucking with the systems of written exchanges/ overwhelming the classical notions of univocal truth and eternal essences as limits on discourse/It is difficult to write about his work because many of the words and metaphors needed to do so haven/t been invented yet/He has revolutionised and re-inscribed what combinations of words and their potential meanings can be defined as to one beyond more than that of current/unchanging/ cognitive limits/that tedious repertory of reified transcendent values posturing as the “text”/always in a state of maintaining privileged signifiers and narrative reliability/ downtown emptiness and elegant inanity/]In Dim Forgotte[n] Mc Aloran shoulders the burden of representation and re-creates a form of literary innovation that seems in its brevity to leave out more than it retains while actually immersing the reader in a proliferation of possible meanings/Unfolding fragments in one voice and then the next and the next without resorting to the banality of a central character or aspiring to traditions of social realism or heroic post mondernism/Mc Aloran evades isms imaginary cruising around dissonant violence and breaking through boundaries and stoppages each paragraph shifts desires and social fluxes constantly producing and creating appropriating coagulated with the endless flux of other desiring machines/all the codes are floating in a opaque miasma of birth pangs of breaking down and reforming perceptions/For those whose reading has been polluted by the codex engaging with this text is all the more difficult/He puts his work in a place where he is not identified as the the primary generator of the text as errant/erratic/multi faceted author creating order out of what appears at first as mind blowing disorder/locating literature as the site of a new aesthetic struggle started by the likes of Samuel Beckett/James Joyce and William Burroughs/There is no longer a cosmos of rigid reductive fictional forms/the algorithm of formulaic dogma is confronted with a vigorous defiance/meaning originates in the imagination of the reader as an epiphany of discovery/all interpretive logic can only focus on structures and systems both analogue and digital/coding and totalizing operations of thought/......sudden from artefact razor fingers trace the asylum tears of what bled till next...words burn as of shit in wax paper where to rat is to nothing ever closure lung a neck snapped in the silent darkness of tidal oceanic...The text is an instantiation of the metaphysics of shock sentences which at the start are limited to a few words but which grow to lengthy passages replete with the primal waters of the life of each word in itself in its own world and as part of a state of apprehension Avital Ronel explores in her seminal book Finitudes Score/The reader must prepare for what they might become after reading and absorbing this nomadic/highly successful attempt to redefine the future task of both reading writing and understanding not yet conjugated/there are no prohibitions in this world and meaning is dependent on the contingent and the aleatory combination of the fractured corpse of humanity bloody and deranged and the ghostly presence of the unheimlichkeit /One must prepare for alterity/......waste attrition it all of less than ever breaks forth to collect of banquet skull teaming with nectar toothless toothed whore of broke jaw emptiness where spe/cial is to outstretch rhythm all sunk devour as of where belittle...blood is out of focus nocturne of drought/The work de-totalises words as signs with a set of significations that a community has agreed upon and usurps this process with the absolute reign of his own impersonal unique ideology/One not engaged with by the usual academic definitions and critiques/Not locked in a disjunctive synthesis/Sliding past all expectations of homogeneous mannerisms refusing a identificatory presence using brute force and blunt instrument quotidian intentions that of detourning producing a work that is antagonistic or antithetical to all previous texts/cracking open textual integrity and that of bringing to an end the cult of literal suicide unchosen and unspoken systems of word/sign equivalences with their ontological manifestations and implications//A torrent of data tracers illuminates the void of surgical precision of random individuality the reader takes on the task of a forensic team drifting to low resolution velocity disarmed as literary terrorist suspect slow wave of neural passes through the reader arrested by flux of images rogue spelling and [lack of] punctuation/there are few pronouns just a couple of [you] and one or two [their] the subject being is apparently eviscerated self mutilating corpse of the child [not at the centre which remains occupied by the word] under orders to ...strip meat from memory fresh meat...human waste bailing out these are the damned nothing of the sky to bite...all of in said of to reveal...razor splinters swallowed down...transparency flung to the dogs... as child dissolves the umbilical cord attaching it to ...snare bone bite havoc [of] close ...spasm of dredge of fist of some breakage point given to occlude dead haven of scatter words to barren fields where nothing ever ever marrow silence of accord/as drift shrift shift of sequence collide with sky bare meat hoping it can re-attach itself to dismembered words the migraine images of autopsy defuse into traumatic memory protocols of psycho surgery...mocks dawn’s collective absence of feel drags dead child bones through avenues of broken glass of scatter of rusty nails of cum of shit of blood of cascade of flesh to redeem in existentia.../ A new form of communicating using the cybernetics of rhizomic connections creating a text of improvisations on states of decay disorder and dismemberment of the very structure of the processes of cerebral thought/...self engaged night spots of the forever lost there never should have been no [thing] but word-less asked of yet never once asked for...Antonioni/s Zabriskie Point the exploding refrigerator of words disengaged from the power circuits of psycho sexual perversity/Meaning comes directly from inspiration through a maze of subversively threaded visions at first in single words slightly out of focus then clusters of words rush into view and finally paragraphs a new vocabulary of thought allowing for freedom of creation and fluidity of punctuation the reader is free to improvise and take themselves to places they never imagined existed...in labyrinth of bleak discord where shards are emblems of desire in ebb & flow of signature of meld through passage breathe where to/...fuck all sediment scatter words to barren fields...one of the many pools of lucidity that litter the text/The reader is sent to zones of occupation subjected to indefinite cruel and unusual containment under statutes pertaining to states of high mental Alert and Hysteria tortured relentlessly with heavy mental collision of word noise contamination ...denizen of excrement subtle as devour throughout where to exit from is to/ cannot exit...from as if to/ sound to fall to beg of it/ dead tide...electro-shock-therapy softening up for ambiguous interrogation by cerebral apparatus or extraction of fundamentalist genome by open brain surgery/Responses are expected and diplomatic immunity which gives respite is dead/...dog shit in the streets cannot wipe away the traces/ long turning of the breathe of it it clings to nasal/eye/ wipes away the reek it cannot/ nor ever/ aspire to it or ever lack of it...Every thing used to have its limit even the truth of Burroughs cutups sorrow death betrayal including desire for alphabetical entertainment/Mc Aloran takes the written word onto a higher platform maintaining an elegance of form and integrity of the chance for cognitive plenitude for the reader to engage with a plethora of floating signifiers/With post-human prosthetic servo word mechanism resentful perspective under immanence of deep and uneven phallic word-wars monitor self control codes blur/fluctuate/re-form .....as little by little child reveals burns in sands of night’s cavalcades where to drought is to of collision of dead waste speech fragrant as nothing ever was before cold ivory dice cast unto...../ Such passages are seeped in a deadly negtropics of melancholia and despair the words assert their strident meaning operating just below the surface of understanding yet anarchic enough to leave a critical impact on the reader/Creating a new way of writing and reading which alters the readers sense of an affinity with the sombre emotional aspects of conservative human nature/This book takes a crucial step invoking such primal emotions as fear/anxiety/dread and finally despair/Creating a sense of contemplation of a text that refuses to give up its meaning even after a second or third reading/It is a labor intensive activity/give it time to reveal itself reminding us of the human touch of genius/The words engulf the reader with a very complex structure of language stripping words back to a raw vital power avoiding the disease of our Age: that of Intertexuality/Mc Aloran inherits the powers of life and death the torso without limbs unsewn raised on dust veins full of oil the spectre of Phallic autonomy is a manipulated social conspiracy engaging with the paranoid and the skitzoid the artifice of intelligence grasps its own manufactured essences again/Mc Alorans work evades the urge to interpret corrupt reality transposing the work into a commentary which hopes to reveal many hidden meanings while at the same time offering nothing/in all its truth a decadent practice to say the least/Mc Aloran has widened the gap between literature and criticism and evades the arrogance that critics bring with their rigid attempts to snare the text within the limits of their own facile ideological aesthetics/The discomforting features of in dim forgotte[n] begin with the title and continue through to the last paragraphs.......silence then that cannot/ blood-stain upon skin/ turns the face aside a kiss of slaughterhouse/ strips denuded the carrion of vocal/ it all fall down/ time what of it to turn to utter waste/ irredeem of speechless/ speechless tones fades vibratory blood/ as it gathers as it set to light to burn down ever of to unbecome/ fade yes or no yes or no/ it echos... in the empty head oscillating between repulsion and attraction but never boredom/

'in dim forgotte(n)' blurb by Andrew C. Wenaus

 Like the dissipating flickers of photons and last snaps of neutrinos as the cosmos slouches towards the silence of maximum entropy, McAloran’s periodic utterances—like an abandoned number station sending signals into the ether—proceed with their directionless promenade towards absolute diffusion. With each reiterative instance of thwarted recollection, these utterances offer a meditation on a past as if it were so distant that its revelations become abstract to the point of null, all while the site of recollection in the present remains eminently alone, patiently waiting the culmination of a torturously elongated finitude. So, in dim forgotte(n) collapses this cosmic isolation into the very intimate site of memory in an ever diffuse present. By introducing this matrix of utterances stripped of their semiotic glue, McAloran writes where the sterile and silent ellipses the word and offers a glimpse beyond language into the soundless stasis of extra-linguistic occultation.

-Andrew C. Wenaus, author of The Literature of Exclusion: Dada, Data, and the Threshold of Electronic Literature

from 'cold ash redeem'/ DM Mitchell & Michael Mc Aloran/ Incunabula 2023

 

 Some images from the book by DM Mitchell. You can get it here 

'cold ash redeem'/ DM Mitchell & Michael Mc Aloran/ Incunabula Media 2023

 

the third part of the informal trilogy between DM Mitchell & Michael Mc Aloran, available here

...it says that no such utter thing should no not ever be in once thrice to begin as if to close of hour where flux of light were barbed nothing less/as was speaken yes than blossom drift of shadow(ed) light dissolve a syllabus a nothing more/as shadowed says thrice close of open hour ever should no be it trace open out of all to echo in of closure in upon what matter/as wry of eye/it blood it be to seal wound white again solace again nothing again/silence again...

From 'the worse/ the better done'/ DM Mitchell & Michael Mc Aloran/ Incunabula Media 2023

 

From 'the worse/ the better done', the second collaboration of image & text by DM Mitchell & Michael Mc Aloran, published 2023 by Incunabula Media & available here

from 'ghostmeat'/ DM Mitchell & Michael Mc Aloran/ Incunabula 2023

 

'ghostmeat', the first book of a collaborative trilogy with words by Michael Mc Aloran & images by DM Mitchell, is available from Incunabula Media

Some sample pieces from 'at the edge of pulse'/ (Incunabula Media 2023)

 

Available from Incunabula Media:

'A liturgy of absence, a paean to desolation. Shorn of sentiment and vain aspirations, it's as if the words on the page are a testament to vanished humanity, left behind when everything else has eroded and gone...'

"in stray exile of presence child's a-blind in silhouette discern what speech(less) burns in bait of fragment's resolve/ detracts unto edge in desolate brim of shiv till buckled bone arrestation of blood spray upon wild skins once known of null of butcher here or there ever after of in collision breath(e) eclipse of once was severed nothing of the known till once unto a shatter of all pulse resolve"

Buy it here

https://incunabulamedia.com/poethicks

=

1.

dense what night a shaft of blood recorded ever of

shadowy expound of silence breath exposed

windows of thick heat a desolate

a sudden nothing of to touch

wry bones to taste

entity lapse of

nothing the devour of a pestle & mortar smile

cracked jagged broke static emblems

foreign as was dawn

spitting out the shed skin

of seeds what blind

what soured

=

6.

castrato sunsets of the beached flowering of bloody sands

& the blood of tide

butchering all that can be observed neither seen

it-of in it dream

pulse white

shadows that beg

for blood

=

27.

skin-rip of circus wheel a jagged worship of never having

spin lapse of callused fingers adrift

echo-breath/e of excise nothing of the fortitude

nor the exist of rapture colourings

sudden closed flesh of scarlet weighted nothing of

all haven butchered the tongue dead fed to

the dogs of speech

disarmed a silence of the a-bask of that singular

setting

cold eyes burning

=

31.

needless to

of the orchid once

spitting into callous attribute

all scars brought to light by the asking of the skyline

of the once edge butchered meat

& the sew thy breath

beneath the sun's

bloodline

reduced

to be

=

'[unspoken]', (Incunabula Media 2024), reviewed by JG

 

‘[unspoken]’ drags the reader–wary or not, no difference–through pathless scapes of abandoned rooms and ruptured anatomies, through dead light and undead words. Though in appearance this text seems to be a patchwork of prose-poetic fragments and dramaturgical scraps, literary form is, as ever, a formality at best for Mc Aloran and, more often, even less than that. The relentless flux of decaying bodies and dubious voices stares between the pages’ blank spaces as if they were hemorrhaged eyes gazing through Ed Gein’s dead skin-masks: to further the already-great distance always separating the idiotic pageant of Appearance and whatever assumptions one would like to make of the impersonal, ineffable “real.”

Still, there is always plenty of room for “hyenic laughter”–that somatic signification of a communication-limit having been reached–and the voices which appear more frequently in the book’s latter half provide occasions for such laughter. These voices, even though presumably disembodied, stutter and stumble just as much as if their breath were still mounted in meat. The dialogue in itself, of course, amounts to nothing, so much so that its presentation as a “play” might remind one of an intentionally bad puppet-show in which it almost seems as if these fragments of voices were sheer babble echoing from the depths of some ontic asylum (far from that word’s etymological sense of “refuge”). And the parrying among the disembodied voices moves along with such anguish and futility, leavened with glimpses of meta-mockery, as to suggest that the inadequacy of language has always been at least as much a problem of consciousness as it is of mere anatomy. And should a return of the voice to the body be possible after such severe displacement, it bears the cruel gift of “ventriloquist illuminations…”.

As it seems Mc Aloran has been finding new ways to alienate the “I” via language in his other, more recent books, this text is no exception. Whenever that battered pronoun appears, it is always, according to traditional grammar, verbally mismatched: “‘I’ asks, breaking through the teeth of sudden disavowal…”. The pronoun and verb is in as much disagreement as all of the miserable traces of beings spreading throughout this text appear to harshly disagree with the illusory, though no less onerous, business of selfhood. And, of course, Mc Aloran sometimes states the matter as frankly as anyone could: “‘I’ is a dour cunt…fluctuating…obsolete, an assault…”; “I” could just as well be “it” for how much of subjective experience remains unspoken and, most likely, unspeakable.

This is yet another example of a feverishly-active poet who is thoroughly unwilling to let the reader rest on the well-cushioned though long since-abscessed assumptions regarding meaning, language and selfhood; a perhaps not-so-generally-welcome alternative to whatever trifles any given laureate might be writing any given moment…

Part of a short volume of two dramatic pieces, available here

'ever unto' - Incunabula Media - (2023 edition)

 

'McAloran's writing always seems to me to be the result of a process of 'removal' more than construction - like patterns left in stone by natural erosion, or almost like words left on an advertising board once the weather and time have done their worst with it. Although lacking in emotion, I find them incredibly beautiful and moving. Skirting the borderline between polemic and asemic, signal and noise, reading McAloran's writing is like taking a trip into the heart of a dead star.'- DM Mitchell.

You can find this book here

https://incunabulamedia.com/poethicks

Forthcoming from Incunabula Media...

 

trilogy - DM Mitchell/ Michael Mc Aloran - Incunabula 2023

 

(i)

(ii)

(iii)

images by DM Mitchell

texts by Michael Mc Aloran

Available via Incunabula Media

'at the edge of pulse', available from Incunabula Media

 

Now available from Incunabula Media:

'A liturgy of absence, a paean to desolation. Shorn of sentiment and vain aspirations, it's as if the words on the page are a testament to vanished humanity, left behind when everything else has eroded and gone...'

"in stray exile of presence child's a-blind in silhouette discern what speech(less) burns in bait of fragment's resolve/ detracts unto edge in desolate brim of shiv till buckled bone arrestation of blood spray upon wild skins once known of null of butcher here or there ever after of in collision breath(e) eclipse of once was severed nothing of the known till once unto a shatter of all pulse resolve"

Buy it here

https://incunabulamedia.com/poethicks

Var(2x) - 07/ 2023

 

Some recent work from the forthcoming 'cold ash redeem', is now published at Var(2x)

Now available: 'scenes from nowhere', Incunabula Media 2023

 

"In ‘scenes from nowhere’, written in 2011, we see the foundation of McAloran’s oeuvre beginning to take shape . “This old hulk of bone, meat, this rind... [will] fool the absence into thinking there was ever anything” is a recurring theme through his work, anything, that is, except language to insist on the despair of there never being anything. Beckett-like he says “the growing is the dying”, the world is a “trunk full of rats”, an “abattoir where beasts hang with their throats cut...” ‘scenes’ , however, unlike McAloran’s later works, and despite, or maybe because of his despair with the corporeal, does take a narrative turn, albeit, as one would expect, towards the dark side. The turn, namely centres round his finding a young woman, badly beaten by professional hookers whose patch she’d strayed onto, late one night, lying on the street. He carries her to his room, where he cares for her with a bath and whiskey. His claim “I’ll go on with it, without purpose”, is undermined when duty insists on caring for a fellow human, which he does with purpose, maybe love. ‘scenes’ is an ideal introduction to McAloran’s work. It contradicts his hopelessness in existence, where “dreams are for lesser men”, through his intuitive will to care that is narrated in a moving and compelling passage of the work that may surprise his followers. ‘scenes’ is necessary reading for those who want an introduction to his later works, and for those who have read them but need to know of their genesis."

Dr. Arthur Broomfield.

Available from Incunabula Media

IN DAMAGE SEASONS - 2013 Oneiros Books/ reissued 2023

 

Originally published 2013, now revised & reissued 2023

The book itself is available here