resembling the body called flesh
sticky segments set randomly adrift in the network 

gathering ghosts from the machine 
to illuminate an event horizon that breathes alone among others

he says the universe is an hallucination
she says it is a field enfolded

she says she has been captured by a city of ruined children
he says these spaces are eating her savage joys

she says dreams drip away, revealing the indistinct

All post media direct action cells must pursue the instabilities in
Technologies-even before they become metaphors.

space is the ultimate high ground

resembling the body called flesh
segments set into motion as trace, trace which stains
stains roaming new memory systems in search of a place to rest 

the storm is here

the wind from below is coming 

time for a new Reality

Their VR helmets can’t see the failure of Reality before the new fundamentalism of the telematic—they continue to believe that the lights they see from the midnight bombs they drop are coming from something that still exists: nation, justice, and democracy. These are now nothing more than the last signs of dead cultural stars.

global engagement is the application of precision force from, to and through space

she says the stars are slowly disappearing, light becoming dark
he says it is only here that he can exist 

she says she is running blindfolded towards the ever brightful
he says there is no beginning, but a circle containing a gap 
for the unexpected to enter

she says here there are intensities which he cannot begin to understand 
he says to him all things are less than zero

coma life trawls drearily towards the inevitable
while new forms arise from the ash of future’s memory
building their skins, sewing and patching, tweaking and stretching
pushing beyond what many from the comfort zones have drowned in

Space power is vital to attain our goal of being persuasive in peace, decisive in war, and preeminent in any form of conflict

our dead must come out of the night and the earth

let them dress in the garb of war 
so their voice may be heard in the empire of silence

stories that dance in the mountains
in that climbing and falling of red stars

breaking the mirrors of Power 
moving into the elsewhere

afterwards, let their words fall silent
and let them return again to the night and to the earth

adrift in the network resembling the body called flesh 
are packets of soft recognition

Now they are one in front of the other, any more distance would break the contact, less distance would make them implode.

Two forms point one on the other, they are staring at each other crossing the selves.

a scream, yes, a scream 

he says that it was a night of intensities and he did not plan for it
she says she believes in nothing less than everything

he says that theirs is not a mathematical relationship
she says her thoughts are as dark and sticky as blood 

The moment of the sexual act I multiply my personae, do you understand?
No, I do not understand.
Do you understand the problem?
No, I do not understand.
I became multiple, animal, innominable power, I hear myself speaking with other voices, I do things which then I do not remember, you are going to have a sexual relationship with one thousand persons.
I am worried for your safety.

tremble

Due to the importance of commerce and its effects on national security, the US may evolve into the guardian of space commerce

shadows of tender fury
the passing of the dead shelters those who have nothing . . .

those who bear the historic burden of disdain and abandonment

those who don't exist

ciphers in the big accounts of capital

the gigantic market of maximum irrationality that trades in dignities

The MESH is busy mapping the human genome to create meme-gene weapons to target specific genotypes and building self-replicating fleets of computer controlled molecular weapons. Post media cell must fight the future with gestures that have no name in the present.

we must be instantly aware, globally dominant, selectively lethal, virtually present

ring a ring a rosies
pocket full o stealfies
bend over banker
lights go off

all fall down 

she says the Power assassinates and forgets
he says she also believes in goblins and fairies 

I become a horse, if you look straight in my eyes
you can see that I have got the eyes of an horses, gaze at me.

You do not look like an horse
Yes, look at me, can you see my eyes?
Yes, it's real, your eyes are transforming, they are big blue deep, a
descendent lateral cut, you are blonde, much more blonde than I remember.
I understand that you look like an horse, but I cannot see what is the problem.
The problem is that in the sexual act my personae multiply themselves
And each one of them pass through me.
Yes, but this is not a problem.
In the sexual act I multiply myself and maybe you will find yourself hanging by the big toes while I'm cutting your throat with a blade made of tiny wood.
I understand, but this is not a problem
Do you understand which is the problem?
No, I don’t understand.

throughout a weary transportation of transmissions
with time so small it stiches itself through the imaginary framework 
as a voice revealing the thematics of our current ruin 

For too long the specters of hyper-memetic cargo cults have flowed between the bottom of the third world and the top of the virtual class. A circuit that keeps the impossibilities of the fifth worlds behind the eschatology of designer futures for the first world.

control of space assures access, freedom of operations and the ability to deny others the use of space

she says that she no longer knows herself

she speaks of butterfly wings crushed by a creature with no smell

she says that a devastating glance has rendered her invisible

she says that they have stolen her silence, leaving her only with useless words

she says that now there is nothing left except emptiness

No, my sexuality is a multiple sexuality too, I am moving and changing shape too, even if I'm often female. Anyway I remember everything.
You will not know with who you are lying, do you understand?
Yes, I understand but for me this is not a problem.
You do not want to embrace me.
We will never embrace, it will never happen
No, I do not understand and I am steeped in stagnant water-lilies. 

Post media cells must travel among strings of inventions that fall outside of the logomass. To seek gestures that leap over the lines
of flight that our current collective realities or imaginary conditions of speed and interconnectivity. We must place the impossible and the unexpected as our counter-dialectics.

the goal is Full Spectrum Dominance

these anchors for listening, watered by the tears of the dead, pooling a slow, eroding trust to a bitter circuit in the lines of power

chemical pale sleep
dreamstained sheets
no centre, ragged edges
zeroing tolerance
gene raiding hyperdecay
fox bites tail
invisible artillery follows nurse with wound
endlessly uncoiling a spectacle of irretrievable situations

intolerable signs

ruined, all ruined

come be my next five minutes
come, she said
destroy, she said

Post media cells must create situations for mutation that can interrupt and reroute the protocols of acceleration, improvement and obsolescence that late capital is bound by. So that rational history will be broken and remade by the tiny hands of the intergalactic ninos of the fifth world.

In a moment you become transparent and I embrace your framework, a red skeleton as a radiography, I pass across yourselves and then the palace comes tumbling down, I lose you between the ruins, I do not see anything, not anything else.

these are attempts of resembling the body called flesh 

this is a cry for new  memory systems to address and build despite the lack of attention given to such building 

this tender pain that will always be hope

such are the voices of the body called flesh

Texts sourced from: doll yoko, ricardo dominguez, diane ludin, agnese trocchi, United States Space Command “Vision 2020”United States Space Command, Vision 2020  United States Space Command, Vision 2020 United States Space Command, Vision 2020