KGB/Autobiography
I've really gotten into a project I'm working on right now and that's why I'm having trouble keeping up with the posts. I will write one on Artaud/Genet soon for Lorraine.
But right now I'm excitedly working on a kind of autobiography. It's based on images from the KGB archives. Swedish Television is making a documentary about my dad's time in Eastern Europe in the 1970s and early 80s and they've gotten all kinds of footage from the KGB archives.
Strangely I feature prominently due to my poor behavior. For example, after my dad and I had been to talk to Lech Walenza and were driving away from G'Dansk I kept popping my head out of the sunroof of the rental car. It appears that the KGB found this very suspicious so they kept photographing it. Perhaps I was sending signals or something.
So anyway, my autobiography is written using the KGB's strange perspective on my family.
Another important point is that in these archives they are very persistent and detailed in documenting who in various photographs were spies. Turns out everybody we knew in Eastern Europe were agents! And even more funny: the people who seem accidental in various photographs (joggers, jugglers, bicyclists etc) were also agents. It's like the Truman Show! So anyway, I'm writing a distorted autobiography based on these photographs and the strange commie narrative that goes along with it.
And then there are the various pink-panther-style fumbled assassination attempts and bomb threats.
It's a funny book I'm writing.
The genre is "haute surveillance."
I'm also rewriting Genet as a numb show. It has a lot to do with bodily fluids. I'm writing about three books at once. There is also a novel sequence to my pageant Entrance to the colonial pageant in which we all begin to intricate.
But I will soon return to writing horrific accusations against American Poetry and Ron Silliman and Flarfers.
But right now I'm excitedly working on a kind of autobiography. It's based on images from the KGB archives. Swedish Television is making a documentary about my dad's time in Eastern Europe in the 1970s and early 80s and they've gotten all kinds of footage from the KGB archives.
Strangely I feature prominently due to my poor behavior. For example, after my dad and I had been to talk to Lech Walenza and were driving away from G'Dansk I kept popping my head out of the sunroof of the rental car. It appears that the KGB found this very suspicious so they kept photographing it. Perhaps I was sending signals or something.
So anyway, my autobiography is written using the KGB's strange perspective on my family.
Another important point is that in these archives they are very persistent and detailed in documenting who in various photographs were spies. Turns out everybody we knew in Eastern Europe were agents! And even more funny: the people who seem accidental in various photographs (joggers, jugglers, bicyclists etc) were also agents. It's like the Truman Show! So anyway, I'm writing a distorted autobiography based on these photographs and the strange commie narrative that goes along with it.
And then there are the various pink-panther-style fumbled assassination attempts and bomb threats.
It's a funny book I'm writing.
The genre is "haute surveillance."
I'm also rewriting Genet as a numb show. It has a lot to do with bodily fluids. I'm writing about three books at once. There is also a novel sequence to my pageant Entrance to the colonial pageant in which we all begin to intricate.
But I will soon return to writing horrific accusations against American Poetry and Ron Silliman and Flarfers.
posted by Johannes at 10:16 AM
5 Comments:
I assume you'll also get back to scolding and telling us Americans how stupid we are for not reading everything not written in English?
KGB?! Remind me to get someone NOT under surveillance to write my letters next time!
(just kidding of course- I wouldn't trade you for the world...well...probably not)
"Haute surveillance" should be the title.
Holy moley! That sounds even better than My Life in CIA.
But yes, please do hurry back to our non-purposive agenda-sharpening.
What a cache of imagery to draw on!
Think about it: if everyone is obliged to be an agent/informer, (the way it was supposed to have been, say, in the GDR with the Stasi), the only way one can resist (without being arrested) is through a deliberate and sly incompetance. So degrees of failure to do the state's bidding (to spy) are degrees of secret honor.
that must be a lot of fun. I'm writing my autobiography now using the records I forced the psych ward to release. Wow! I sound crazy! I went back there and took some pictures myself. Everything the same, nothing the same.
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