Public (E-Journal, York University)

Frenkel, Vera

Metropolitan Chords and Discords

Silverman, Kaja

The Cure by Love

Goto, Hiromi

trophic cascade
HIROMI GOTO
january 26, 2004
mildly depressed. note your cycle. you prefer to other yourself. a double neg-
ative makes you positive. you're positive. this happens in mathematics and on
island retreats. holistic. you're tired. of some thing. break the cycle and all
selves will follow. like the nicest people. it can't be the children. i kid you not
treat me right. tonight. rabbits and chickens revolt us to death. they left the
warehouse to start a crusade. the children wail and they can't stop scratching.
sleeping it off with hands half-closed. mites, ticks, etc. "Can't you tell?" the
homunculus is another matter. the sound of rain is pleasing. eye drops.
splatters.
january 27,2004
the blood is not fresh the blood is stagnant. the energy is low and needs a burst
of masturbation. the pleasing sound of rain. i can only please myself. placing
the blame on others you are strong enough to eye the i.
the sticky place between the thighs. meat quivers. lashes. a tale about eyes and
eggs and a matador. tasteful. not provincial. of course there's a priest. don't
say bedpan. say bidet. this is the homunculus' favourite story.
january 28, 2004
night tires breaking through water on asphalt. are honey, lemon and a thin blue
scarf ward enough against the longing in my throat? a lozenge might do the
trick. the gutters are filled with detritus. luckily we no longer throw urine out
the window. the Sisyphusian nature of email brings me down. the lowing you
hear is coming from the refrigerator. it should stop any minute. i'm positive.
Alchemists rationalized the homunculus into being in a fit of procreative desire. They longed for
a body to call their own. Unfortunately the homunculus would only develop when the divine sperm
was mixed with horse's urine. The irony was not lost on the women, but many men were pleased.
The tainted garden of the womb could be laid to fallow. Learned scholars spent marry summer
afternoons in the glass laboratory. Doctoral theses were written.
january 30, 2004
it's finally happened. i've come to this moment too late and slipped into a
tomorrow i'm not ready to accept. just because the world order keeps on dis-
appointing me doesn't mean i'm not open to surprises. i would still like a nice
piece of tenderloin. taste full of juices. so prise me off the asphalt of love. the
rain sounds colder than yesterday. tomorrow is today. in two days time it will
be february. it might be time to write a list. do the income tax. take two
Tylenol. take out the trash.
february 2, 2004
slippage and entropy. how much bleeding is a stuck pig? the eyelid twitches for
sleep. birds twittering behind closed curtains. come back when the day is nighter.
i feel lonely. the night just outside the window. Inert, but loaded. all the
same. outside every single window of the house. i run from one to the other
but night, night, night, night, night, night, night, the monotony is driving me
to distraction. "isn't this what you were waiting for?" i scream. but my heart
doesn't answer. (note: children didn't notice that the spaghetti sauce was
made with vegetarian ground. the homunculus was ill-tempered.)
february 3, 2004
the child keeps coughing. i am torn between concern and annoyance. i bring
a lighted candle into the room and the movement of shadows. water taps in
the drainpipes. the death watch beetle is not a beetle. lousy similes and
metaphors will be the death of me. the child keeps coughing. i am torn
between anxiety and frustration. i go to the fridge for an orange. sweet con-
solation. beautifully modified, the late-night news numbs the ache. when i go
back to my room the child is coughing.
february 23, 2004
how many twenty days have passed? they fall away like dead skin cells. micro-
scopic dreams. a nightmare of cellular proportions. the virus passes from child
to mother. lungs rattle and crackle a disconnected short wave transmission. i've
missed the transistor of love. but sleep is the next best thing.
The homunculus was gently extracted from the glass chamber. After eleven months of incubation
it seemed exceedingly frail and pale of complexion, almost translucent. To date, it cannot abide
touch of any kind and prefers to be suspended on a gauze sling inside a tub of water. It must keep
its head above the surface. It will not drink milk, human's or otherwise, but will take horse's blood
with a pipette. The laboratory technicians have been calling it "Lucky."
88
march 15,2004
i've been thinking about sylvia plath. all the women who had to stick their
head in an oven. women have been mothers for a long, long time. their
aprons are malformed but they can still cook a damn fine meal. single moth-
ers are ruining this nation of hard-working consumers. consuming mothers
more often. pregnant rabbits will reabsorb their unborn if the environment is
not safe. mothers often carry a rabbit's foot in their apron pocket. humming
Captain and Tenille into their chowders. the return of disco might be the very
thing to swing the world around.
ordering pizza as an act of reconciliation. i prefer a market share of womyn-
designed biodegradable and artistically pleasing tampon applicators. the
thought of hemming two pairs of girl's pants is making me think of sylvia
plath. mothers have been tired for a long, long time. i have seven hundred dol-
lars of bills waiting to be paid. the clacking of their yellow beaks. they are
always hungry and the noise is driving me to the malls. (don't forget: get
squealing back tire assessed by nice jpnse mechanic in n. van.)
march 16, 2004
cunning women dress up like girls to clutch bills in their vulvas. the valve in
the nether regions is rusty and cannot be plumbed. "This was supposed to be
about love." plump cunts are juicy mackerels. the intersex appearance of
clams doesn't appeal to all consumers. nothing a good chowder can't hide.
a nice A-line skirt will serve most women well. an opening of a deep need is
not without crumbling edges. a fault-line always lies with the mother. she
didn't serve you well and her head is in an oven.
march 18,2004
there is very little to say on a night like this.
april 5, 2004
the full missed moon. the minutia of every each day. i'd rather be reading a
book. last night i dreamt in poetic lines. impurities in the water. residual
images affect the heart; it's not really broken. you only think it is. the garlic
was heady and the sake divine. rabbits stewing. an unattractive disposition
changes nothing. "You sourpuss!" mouth brooding. baby fish dart in and out
of its mother's maw. ma. last night the cattle stopped singing sonnets. they
are in mourning. i can respect them before i eat them. the homunculus says
nothing.
april 9, 2004
russian roulette du beeuf. the homunculus loves it. the homunculus would eat
beef every day if only the cow would lie still. the rich pungent tenderloin in my
panties. is recycling the blood an option? wasteful. the homunculus waits in
the hallway. the doorknob rattles. the door shakes in the bucking frame, the
shudder pounding, bang!bang!bang! the doorknob clatterclatterclatters.
heart. silence. the sound of weeping.
april 12, 2004
SHOPPING LIST
beef eye of roufi~
-t0matos
GR.id,ep thighs
eggs
"'rntik.
(anoia o'il
gutter
~e
~
_Nesca.fe
-asparta me
~oke
Hnggies/
april 23, 2004
the atkins diet is good for movie stars. straying across a universal front stars
collapse in my refrigerator. how does viagra find me? why does cialeprin
hound me in my cyber home? virus protection won't keep the dog sniffing at
my crotch. do they take us for nitwits and morons? a 24-hour boner is too
much of a good thing. take the bone out of a fish and you get really nice fil-
let. you can't eat meat every day.
The developmental curve of the homunculus must not be compared with the developmental
stages in human growth. The homunculus should be classified as a new species, a new branch of
sentient life untainted from the original deviant strain. By bypassing the female human recepta-
cle, mankind may reach greater heights in pursuing the truths in theology, science, mathematics
and philosophy.
april 24, 2004
slipping time. splitting every second. each microsecond unfolds into a new
dimension. i'm infinite every day. i can't bear to hear those twittering birds.
closing curtains closed. a long distance plan can make a world of difference.
fair trade redemption. one cup gets me through the day. are you tired? the
children ask me. why don't you have some coffee? their knowledge shatters
and reassembles.
april 25, 2004
it's just that food has to be prepared every day. every day the children must
be fed and the homunculus won't stop keening. food nudges against my
thoughts, the refrigerator door will not shut. wrinkled hasuki jammed
between milk gone bad and we know the meat is evil. fish! fish! fish! but only
once a week lead poisoning privilege.
sylvia plath ran out of recipes. it happens. mothers run out of ideas and they
just can't bear to fuck another meatloaf. Kraft saved a lot of women from
heartache in the seventies. combining products with recipes so many things
can be done with mayonnaise. malaise avec aubergines. petit l'oeuf du mourn-
ing. l'hormone reduction sauce. a french spin on a cliche can be tres delicious.
better than a mother gone to fat. catch the drippings for a nice gravy.
heartburn. nothing a good salve. can't fix.
april 26, 2004
if my mother wasn't alive. she would be. (note: May 9th Mother's Day march
for universal childcare rram @ Victory Square)
april 27, 2004
drinking is not an option.
The juvenile period of the homunculus is approximately double that of offspring born of human
mothers. No doubt the time is necessary for the development of its larger and more complex
brain. Although it exhibits aggressive behaviour and is uncanny in its ability to satisfy its phys-
ical urges, the homunculus is by no means intellectually and morally substandard. We project
that its prolonged juvenile stage is merely the natural precursor to a prolonged and highly
advanced period of maturity.
april 28, 2004
running for orifice. war on error. i wrack. i rate on top of the pyramid scheme.
heat-seeking mammals. chickens, cattle, humans thrown into a pit. buried a
lie. it'll show up in the water. Coca Cola promises. compromise your off-
spring. leap the gap. lapping spilled milk. the homunculus laughs. hysterical.
may I, 2004
may be another way to frame the.
caught in the act the young.
descending from lofty.
sugar sprinkled with a.
late-night CBC news anchor tried to.
nails bitten too close were.
sighing, she rolled from.
screaming brakes left long.
of baking soda can eliminate.
rose in the air like fried.
may 4,2004
deep frying mid-afternoon porkchops leonard cohen filled my eyes with burn-
ing. he is the perfect age to be a fatherlover. i speak theoretically. besides he's
a downer. forking toward sylvia's path. you never know. major tom might
have met and loved an alien. things happen. leaving the kettle to boil dry. "1
am full of feeling." metal burning on metal. at least you know the fire alarm
is working. the bloating in your midriff. sadness washes over the body. a
rogue wave. drowning in aisle 6. the mottled pink and fatty flecks of white.
regular ground to the bone. don't kid yourself.
may 6, 2004
mortality in the sugar bowl. morning's sweet coffee. laughing at my own
jokes. i tried bonding with the nurse's aid but she just moved to the next don-
air. giving blood can make a body. self righteous. recessive traits tainting. one
pint : four people. exponential. fishing loaves from a sow's ear. a helping
The homunculus has been in the juvenile stage twenty-fiveyears, eight months and thirteen days.
Although we have no data to compare the development of this species, we have some concerns that
the homunculus we have been studying might be a flawed of its kind. Our initial proposal was
to raise and study one homunculus to adulthood, but because of the limited capacity for compar-
ative study we have embarked on a second tier of investigation.
9 2
hand cut off at the wrist. shit happens. the angle of light from a low-hung
sun. striation of the skin. all that blood. "Will it ever be used for purposes
I'm not aware of?" the homunculus had to be locked into the trunk. a slow
bruise healing.
may 8, 2004
I can't stand repeating myself. How many times do I have to say the same
thing? Do you think I like repeating myself? It's driving me crazy. Why both-
er talking to each other if you're just going to fight? Just don't talk to each
other. There's no fucking time for pancakes now. What's your fucking prob-
lem? Look, I have to do things every day that I don't like. Everyone does.
You're not the only one. Do you think you're special?
may 9, 2004
marching for universal childcare as an act of reconciliation. we ate our oben-
tos at stanley park. the neon yellow sulfur was a bright spot in the afternoon.
two gulls tugging two arms of a starfish. the breaking point a sandcastle of
shells and lopped daisies. a flung frisbee slides between air and despair. barg-
ing waves lap like dogs. debris. the seagull's maw a deep pink slit.
quiet darking the clock's soft ticking. i will make the children's lunches in the
morning. sleep extinguishers. i will be a better person. out of organic oranges
and apples. the quick passing of a dreamless night. "You promised." i will
fold the laundry. i will up the ante. climax overrated. rising interest doesn't
mean. put on the rice. thank god for the timer. cordless salvation. "They real-
ly do pour Coke on roast beef!" up the ante. infiltrating the kitchen. Raid is
my last option. first sound of thunder. heat-seeking mammals. the water
sheds. debris. a nice bit of cracker. "I am full of feeling." morsel at night.
rogue wave. waters rising. a new lease on strife. no plant. no animal. buy
products. enjoy life. i will love. i will love.
One hundred homunculi will be developed from one hundred human donors and one hundred sepa-
rate samples of horse's urine. Some of the homunculi will be raised in a controlled environment,
some in homunculus-only groups with non-human contact and some will be fostered out to human
families.
93


English

trophic cascade

Forkert, Kirsten

counterpublic

Farocki, Harun

Phantom Images

Introduction 
Saara Liinamaa, Janine Marchessault and Christine Shaw 
Locality as dwelling and imaginative horizon can be seen as an expressive 
metaphor for the distinctiveness of cultures shaping and shaped by the 
global urban landscape. It is now widely recognized that globalization as a 
process has given rise to creative forms of social life and political activism 
located in and around cities. These are conjugated by the recognition that 
the local is an intrinsic aspect of cosmopolitanism and internationalism. 
Artists, activists, and social theorists increasingly engage with the local and 
localities through an orientation towards, and circulation of, actions 
grounded in immediacy, ephemeral events, "interventions," and lived situations. 
Locality is the immediate and the everyday, the fluid, the evanescent, as well 
as the frames and forms of the urban environment; it is the dynamic play of 
city structure, symbolic interaction, and critical intervention. To think 
through localities is to address the specificity of place as fixed and fleeting, 
general and particular; it is to speak from the spaces of promiscuous attachment 
and precarious dwelling. 
This emphasis on the local is not the means to some new ontological 
essentialism, but provides a pragmatic way of materializing experience, 
making meaning and alterity among other things, in a world of increasing 
movement and concomitant virtuality. At the same time, the local is easily 
appropriated to serve capitalist ends and conservative mandates; it risks 
reinforcing reductive notions of identity and thrives off easy identifications. 
The promotion of the local sits well with neo-liberal agendas promoted 
under the guise of the "Creative City." 
This issue of Public approaches the concept of locality in a dialectical 
fashion - seeing in it new possibilities for translocalism, diverse coalitions, 
and critical engagements as well as new reactionary articulations of market 
fundamentalism, and commodified difference. 


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Metropolitan Chords and Discords

The Cure by Love

trophic cascade

counterpublic

Phantom Images

Introduction

Awaiting Disaster: Olafur Eliasson's "The Weather Project"

Rice Imperialism: The Agribusiness Threat to Third World Rice Production

Singapore, Variability, and the Exhaustion of the Local

Indians on Tour (or Scouting for Monias)

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