a voice opera on naming and the un-named
as orated by … and translated by majena mafe
Sounded-language?? Is it soundage?
Is it sounage?
Is it soun-n-n-n?
Is it aaaarrrg?
What are its other names or other no-names?
What is the space that in itself, (performing itself), is what I call sounded-language? (because I can make-up mark-up, no better word for it)
I’m hearing it in my eyes. I’m reading it with my fingertips. Its gyrating scabs of sound hit my eyes and go to my ‘hearing space.’ It’s what I hear in language hitting my ears off’a the page … roaring resonances sounding at depths and heights registers within a continuum of unmeaning-meaning-unmeaning, that fill full the spaces of possible and break’n with them the them into the more than MORE THAN.
each word each letter each white space-ing a sounding
small things are big things they are all equal alight with sound-age
How does my ears see the word? read the word? be the word vibrating? Small amplitudes are impossible scores for improbable movements of means.
…. The multifarious sounding-out is one drone
droning out depth as width-this a gape-ing-ness
It is a wound held open … in language of the text. Pumping out unwitting, haemorrhaging the unwriting, the unwritten the bank/pool/ file of words in silence while this ‘one’ speaks …
The babble does not ‘sound’ still …
The language of the text is made to resonate with the eye with thinking, with logic. The wound is ripping at the sclera with resonance in resonating. the ripeness of ripping.
It is a wound in language of speech. The language of speech is made to resonate in the mind like the text, not the ear. The theory of speech does not gurgle. Adult speech is logical obeying gormless grammar frames. The aural frames of means are not meant.
Not say’d … it is the wound of the throat. The throat granulated against vibration, against crying out against crying out. The throat is crowd. The throat as crowd ventriculating rearticulation. Plastic wrapped. A cover a repeat without quality.
A wound is a strategy. A becoming, a sloughing off, a peeling back of the rotting.
A suppuration of secrets. It is a question to its own becoming. It does not supplicate to order, it is an ‘other’… it is a superstructure.
A lesion … its stick with serum ooze to word. An insult … it is sounded to offend.
A pang we hear at the break in ‘formality’ in operetta as it operates outa’ within the score and the more than.
It is sounding a word bigger than ‘range.’
It echoes resound upon itself to silence- cancelling out, subtracting itself away. In enunciating enunciation is eaten.
It is complete intact unhurt in its wound
It is being the sounding out as vigorous ness
The sounding out is plumb and probe and fathom wider than deep. It is the question it is how the land of meaning lies … Sounded-language is never terse it is never the test.
If the affect is pleasure or pain it is neutral the pure as in undefinable event constantly prefiguring in terms of place, language.
At the edge of words we say it repeats – and there are no repetitions A noun is the name of calling the called
It is a conundrum it is paradoxical it is refusing it is not form
It is a bother it transgresses meaning.
and … and … and (stutter … stutter … stutter)
Corban at the edge
The utterance of becoming
the unuttered sound
the sound of unuttering
the sound of becoming-unuttering
noun problem with fixed object word term at the verb …
all fleeting moving shifting
as … The unnameing pushes up against ‘things’ and sounds deep, sloughs off, loops or through, in language we have sound in painting etc as well but we often go to the eye … the too much breaks into stuttering pulsing vibration, reverberation
it is refused -unheard because it has no name.
This is unnaming in unnaming-ablity*
Something sounds out but it is a sounding in, a sounding of depth … it is sounding as deep- wide inscape as a portal a potential undoing itself as it redoes – like the snake sloughing skin as it grows a new one simultaneously, paradoxical space, binaries so far gone. This is the sphinx’s riddled question. No its the sphinx’s riddle answer.
And “… the object is torn asunder from itself in two directions.” who wrote this?
*There’s a lovely moment near the beginning of Michel Foucault’s The Order of Things, in which the late philosopher shows how living creatures used to be classified prior to the advent of the modern kingdom-phylum-class-order-family-genus-species system. There was a radically different order of things, as it were, and reshuffling that order involved a tremendous redistribution of power throughout society.