Unthem Words #4: DAY OF ESPIONAGE


Past now the garrulous ocean

Past points before lucidity, the night wind

Past my many friends of the black powder and wisdom

I fashioned my boat a knife

Cutting waves of interception

On static whitecaps passing

Slim bow

    bow of steel

          glinting capture

Which then is the destination

Which then reflection

Which then future

Which rapture

When does the course become actual

The thrust true deadly

Neither thought nor wish

When comes the vital piercing

This fortress of potential

For the clouds are breathing whispers
When I yell




Unthem Words #3: BIG QUEER IT


IT: Big Queer Force: not us; not not us.

IT. As in, not human, exactly.

Not nonhuman either. Transhuman.

Space amplitude queer sensation, queer arousal: circuit/drug.

In IT hear ID, the BIG IT, the one you always suspect, the oblique.

Peripheral, slipped, run from.

Whatever you run from runs you.

IT lives itself in your blink.

IT lives yourself in your sleep and you sleep now beneath your awake.

IT is extremely angry, and its anger is Too Queer.

IT = spacetimebodyfuck… but no, IT ≠ anything. IT = nonequivalent.

IT, dark and luminous, the catastrophe of the completely incomplete.

IT = HERE, minus a veil of words.

IT = HERE, minus all focal distraction: limitless here.

IT = HERE, vertiginously contiguous, indefinitely also THERE.

The neighbor's cough is my bone.

ID ≠ x in me. ID exceeds me. ID exceeds my body. Bodies careen across It.

Material space as the unconscious passing through us: that which desires.

Me and you as regressive repressive refracting bandaged skin.

Peel the skin. Bleed a big queer IT.

Nothing but the infinite depth of 2x4 plasterboard doublepane windows… hate death breath flight genital.

Big Queer Genital It: yes feel It.

IT the substance of sympathy, meat of antipathy, glass of lust, air of the Big Queer Void.






Sound is not exactly vibration of the air.

Vibration of the ear.







Light, color: space-frequency plus retina-pulse.

Locked/keyed: syndication.


Plane engine: air in the basin—edge of your word.

Later attention trims limits.

Suspend attention. A different selection.


I put my thumb to my lip like my Dad.

A longer rhythm.

Sun of the lens: a short one.

War of rhythms.


Shallow breath: a sick one.

Heave of a sob: toward health.

Shadow touches wind touches skin: they are many.

Extraction never plumbs them all.


Depth flooding surface,

Fall sideways.

Think what the ancestor thought.

Surrender to never surrender.

The earth is never its name.


It's about listening with the room,

about the room listening.

The sentient stroke,

the mothering air.

Cloud of rhythm.


Feel one out

search it out

let it in

it climbs your arm and

pegs your foot

to the floor.


What is it?

Typicality of technology,

the form the cone cuts in the air,

susceptibility of sensibility.

Habit of the freeway,

trace of ancestry.

In itself in air in speaker.

War of rhythms.


You search for it by nature.

Anti-work, line of least resistance,

corner babbler, stream of unseen water.


Found, appeared,

now a void or a temptation.

            Walk into darkness.

            Fuck the wind.

Surrender to never surrender.


Let it.

Let it in, let it go,

fall right in.

Topple asymmetrically.

Space is anti-center, anticenter.

All the unnamed is now.

Lock in and get massive.


That which is vital grows.

It takes care of itself.

You can go somewhere else.

It grows itself.

Earth of its own war.









We are an autonomous-space-production collective.



A space is autonomous when it produces itself.

We are not agents of spaces’ self-production, but aspects of spaces autonomizing.

Sound and light are aspects of space.

So are bodies and their movements.

So are words.

Sound, light, and the movements of bodies are not “contained” in a space, because this space does not exist without them. Were there no light, sound, smell or movement there would be no such space, but a different one.

When I say “space” I mean: “living-space-time-mass.” But I just say “space.”

Sound, light, motion and smell are the flesh of space, and space denotes this mass formed.

The question is whether the mass forms itself.

A space produces itself when its own acts form its own matter.

If a space is not a hollow volume but volume’s full mass, everything that happens in the space is the space’s own doing.

Does this doing produce the space itself, or form some elsewhere?

Do the formed doings of the space result from the space itself or from elsewhere?

If in both cases the answer is the space itself, to this degree the space is autonomous.

By the same reasoning a system of spaces can be autonomous in some degree.

A system of spaces produces itself to the degree that the doings of its masses result from these masses themselves.

Entering an autonomous space into a system of spaces indefinitely increases the force of autonomous production.

The material reality of a system is its acts of exchange. The spaces in a system remain autonomous only when the exchange between them stimulates self-production. When an elsewhere determines the production of a space from without, neither that space nor the system including the elsewhere are autonomous.

The exchange of means of production can stimulate self-production, if those means are employed for that purpose. Exchanging means of production is how an autonomous system empowers itself. An exchange that locks the means of production in some elsewhere is anti-autonomous. Such exchange and such systems should be interrupted.

No space is fully autonomous, because all space is contiguous and permeated by what surrounds it.

What matters is whether the space is autonomizing.

When a space is autonomizing, the increase in its own power can be felt. Feeling the space is what moves the space’s aspects to act, and what directs those acts. The multiple feelings corresponding to autonomous actings are the feelings of the autonomous space.

Autonomizing space is multiplying the means of its self-production. There are means of production proper to every aspect of a spatial mass.



You can use your hands to propagate an autonomous space, by building. In this case your hands are the hands of the space by which the space builds itself.

Speakers build space too. They are vibratory membranes of space, by which it patterns its air and resonates its body.

A speaker is therefore a means of production of space. Projectors and screens, which pattern light, are also means of production.

Even our speech produces our space. When it echoes completely from elsewhere, it forms our space under the power of that elsewhere, and it depletes our powers. When it echoes from here, it produces autonomously.

Hands on strings and vibrating throats are kin to speakers. They are means of production.

A microphone is just a speaker inhaling instead of exhaling. Microphones are vibratory membranes of space by which it multiplies some aspect of its formed mass. A microphone is a means of production.

A lens and an a/d converter inhale light. Inhaled light is multiplied light. Multiplied light is a force of production.

Eardrums, retinas and skin are kin to microphones and cameras. They are membranes of space by which space multiplies itself.

A recording is a means of production of space. It has to be linked with an amplifier and a speaker, a power supply, a playback device, a screen, and by this series it can produce space.

Muscle memory is a recording. A recording is a muscle memory. Trigger it and the muscle flexes, moving whatever it’s linked with. The flexing muscle forms contiguous mass. From it form ripples outward.

Does this outward flow re-form the immediate space, or only some other spaces far off? Does it increase the power of its immediate space to produce, or does it deplete it? If it makes its own space more powerful, it is autonomizing.

Many things can be done to tip a space into autonomization.

External production of the space—its production by elsewhere—can be interrupted. Turn off the patterns of elsewhere. Or reform these patterns.

Architectural changes produce space.

Media we did not make produces our space from elsewhere. Turn off this media, or repattern it, and it is autonomized.

Media we did produce produces space autonomously, so long as there is no fetishization of the moment of its prior production. Fetishization of the past produces what is present—the recording—as elsewhere. To avoid the depletion of power, never interpret a recording as a reference to elsewhere. A recording is nothing but a means of production that is a present aspect of our power. Certainly that means has a form, and a form which this space formed. It is a child, a continuation, a product producing.

Always affirm production over products, even though it is a product that produces.

Autonomous space feels—we feel some of its feelings—and these feelings are selections of which of its powers to deploy in the course of its self-amplification.

Motions of our bodies formed by previous motions of our space are autonomization of space. Motions of our bodies linked with other motions in this space constitute the amplification of the space.

There are birds and shadows and electrical hums here too, and they too are this space. They too can be autonomized. It is not possible to leave them alone; we have already joined with them. But it is possible and desirable to feel them, be led by them, to amplify them, to echo them, and otherwise to produce this place in synchrony. They are not interlopers; we are aspects of the same tissue.



People get confused because they think sound and light are signs and not space. They miss space because they focus on some moment of it and suppress the rest. Their focus produces signs and then they run in the outward way of signs. they deflate the space from within, by directing its productivity outward. Nobody told these people to focus, to look for meaning, or to weaken the force of our space. Stop focusing and you return to the space.

Thus perceptual habits interrupt the autonomy of space. But it works the other way around as well. If you are cross-eyed all the time objects do not exist, only space. Space works because it is continuous. Refusing to lacerate space is a way of autonomizing space. When it is not interrupted it operates. You can feel its operation. This frightens some people. They are frightened of their own power. They are frightened of feeling.  They need to relax. They need to go cross-eyed.

The autonomous character of self-formed light is best seen from the corner of the eye.

The autonomous character of self-formed sound is ambient by nature. You can listen to it focally if you want, but it is always the nonfocal part that is autonomizing. It autonomizes you too.

All we have to do is choose autonomization with our acts. All we have to do is autonomize.

It need not be thought out. It is not a thing. We are only aspects and gestures of autonomy. Autonomy courses through us.

It is light sound wood stone liquor kiss warcry.



Send us your means of production or we’ll send you ours.

If we feel it our spaces will join it—be produced by it, produce together with it—produce new means of production. Both of our powers will grow. So long as our exchange can be felt as empowerment, objectively real as the multiplication of means of autonomous production, we will augment it. We augment by contributing more means of production, like our muscles and our lights.

On occasion we must sum our forces so that we can feel them, so that we know what we can do. We join to autonomize some larger space. We join to interrupt whatever is anti-autonomous. Our spaces join out of their own felt joys, to feel a greater joy.

Our networks are real because they are material. They are powerful because they produce materially. They are autonomous because they materially produce themselves. They are beautiful because they produce what can be felt and lived.

They are dangerous for these reasons as well. We should understand them as a dangerous force, which we embrace. If we do not embrace the danger, we flee the power.