from The Canard Book 2

The pages define the book by qualities meant to implicate the business of
real discourse

the medium of the book resembles familiar, unprecedented walls. books cover
the innate in common with neither protection nor definition. either the
process of attention attracts individual customs, or experience moves at the
speed of the book. the difference between succumbing and envisioning is that
the latter does not write uniform conventions. possibilities for
acceptability look familiar. the book gives discrete content to sequential
units, but objects indigenous to the page are portable, spatially intrinsic,
random. economic conventions design the book, filling and imagining its
literary invention. clues of structure are a genuine reading, relatively
experienced in contrast to something else. a book that can be an art object
becomes a specialized communication. the economic book needs a retailer to
publish its secure proposals, imaginatively numerous forms saved from the
eliminated practices. one repository of the programmed page is infinitely
theoretical, a multiple limit destined for display as feasible contact with
unconventional commerce. simply reasonable differences between reproductions
and work, not produced and then along the line as well, worth both
invaluable currency and linear traditions in contrast to the possible
autograph as an exhibition. the pages define the book by qualities meant to
implicate the business of real discourse, not the longest theory between
essential and rectangular, these pages are attempts with covers to bind
particulars to the book. to communicate an innovative reading, books imagine
one folded purpose: the work itself is a particular aside constituted in a
space of sequential limits. some syntactic distinctions resemble previous
shapes and needs, but books are primarily dramatized phenomena likely to
originate in reiterated experience. readers depend on alternative strips and
cards to categorize the critical suggestions in a parade of necessary
materials. other arrangements inform the decisions within structures: most
books are read for a different evidence of initial sentiment. I read the
visual book for the book. its possibilities make a mind in both directions.


A natural language

a book is each of these, also words. a book is a writer who writes the fact
of texts. the fact of such an instance is literary, a series through the
nature it reveals. written reading is a sequence is not the case. space is a
case of moments contrary to words ( a text is such a text or from prose an
autonomous more or less). more or less following the book uses it as a
sequence which occurs at a different moment (words do not in a book write
time or any particular book). a book does not write time nor the bearer of
dimensions nor the fact of distribution nor assimilation within incorporated
ordering nor poems). a book exists among languages fitted to libraries
including the writers of real responsibility in new autonomous containers as
accidental books. an autonomous text forms here as the writer judges the
others who write the reader into the process of this text. the writer writes
to actualize a parallel reality. even poetry contains the self-sufficient
emphasis of the book. the book links the writer to the assumptions of the
text. any written sign is not the structure of a bookshop; its form is the
servant in the chain. when writing prose, language is identical in the new
element to fulfill words. the books avoids existence as a problem of the
book. nothing happens might be how pages matter. there are still wills
dancing in comparison. poetry is the same as text yet differently preceding
the book wherein written repetitions compose the roles of superfluous art.
the content of the writer will always be eating the people who like books.
the sequential functions of particular individuals such as tiresome language
do not consider the text as an author reading strawberry gossip in the laws
of poetry books. something happens in a chemical book of pears: the
necessary transcription of poetical margins writes the fact not sung so
loudly language. letters interspersed against the intentionally real
translate a prose of needs as original and many more. but they don't repeat
normal occurrence. poetry sung in type is still a novel whereon the deeper
conventions propel language into words. punctuated discoveries use less
transcription than simple facts. to write a mind is to sing the printed
nothing lacked and aloud. the spatial, but only the smaller margin, this is
not that way, this is the introduction of an enormously unavoidable since, a
new inter-subjective exploitation of the concrete music of incalculable
history. the concrete is efficiently open, or narrower by bigger uses,
written by the consequences of its birth into space. a natural language,
albeit communication, is only an example of ideally invented poetry.


None of them but a book

a book is communication in the physical space of words. concrete books,
native to space, exist as subjective consumption of objective moments. the
book is still the page in the space of the ground and now, but the
autonomous representation of an existent outside subjects communication to
the laws of imprisoned meaning. the chicken is printed on the conditions of
the perceptive egg. language is a sequence of real alternatives that takes
place in the generic poetry of ideal matter. the text contains an exterior
exchange of experiential realities. there is no language as a medium of
transmitted intention. language is the starting point of everyday
intentions, just as intentions transmit the invocations of everyday
language. the new will not be the new unless it is the transmission of a
want. if the words mean unfathomable presuppositions, feelings explain
intentions to one another, and every radical inclusion will always be the
image of a particular indefinable author, a utility. language neglects
itself with words, images written on the blank page of someone else, the
whiteness of intention divested of utility, a series and a currency within a
certain identity. each book writes the perfect book in the same way that
every poem is searching for the mother of meaning. investigations of the
message give birth to the absolute reader. a concrete paradox must abstract
intention from a rose. every word telegrams every structure as a part as a
part of reality to abstract language, but words are no less fictional than
the sequential roses of a text. nothing exists in its turn as a structure
forming itself to any particular. I see no rose is a word for none of them
but a book.


A new faculty of signs

a book is the portent of a personal text. whenever a book is isolated as the
totality of plagiarism, the author's language hints at a new constituency of
love. part of the bookshop harmonizes with the revelations of careful art,
thereby words choose the author's intention as a starting point, a word uses
its singular gift as an enigma for thinking love. love means one of the
elements isn't necessarily irrefutable. the fact of the book is essential to
the activity of the author's intention, it is a talent to solve the I
against the known. the importance of the I performs the blood of the text,
but also chooses no other word in the intention of the reader. a written
love functions as nobody flowing out of passions, able to intend the
manifestation of a test, letters as indefinable jokes wherein it is proven
you love someone. love has inflicted language upon the meaningful intentions
of nothing. the author means something as simple as an unfathomable weather
in order to wrong a misunderstanding, you must read the structural methods
of identity. knowing this, one must believe the impossible reading ( a
reading of the rhythm appreciates the moments of the alphabet). the book
functions as a reading of understanding; in the same way, time quickens the
understood book. there are needs in order to love the specific reading -
methods take no heed of discriminate creations. to read the complicity of
geography, systems condition into stealth a new faculty of signs.


As instruments in the enjoyment of enlightenment

the artist's book is a critical collection relished within a series unlike
permits to avoid inexpensive ideals. at the heart of the artist's book is
the phenomenon of consciousness, a rebellion against the obsolescence of
cheap commodities. every ancestor of friendship is a product of potentially
reproduced writing. separate writings conceive ideas and pieces of books
circumvented by modest misrepresentation and fragile for the easiest
audience. the product among the immense societies increases the cost of
ideas as big business, literature as we know it is already neither an art
nor a book (a book is a work of visual and/or verbal exhibition). no outside
system ambitious in hope weighs the art world heightened and used as subject
matter. the book is planned as the visual remains of a constituted history,
poets and portfolios with roots in romantic anti-art. anti-art initiated the
point fora medium of retribution, articles, drawings, notebooks, editors in
lieu of extreme others. to ignore their own books among them in particular,
the Surrealists have been a deadpan approach for years. an unnamed stream
validates the signs, neither criticism nor art was necessarily the point
among other things, but a poet included in incommunicative publications of
himself uses the art world as serial independence to catalogue the
appearance of his dispersed fragments. the worlds existed usually as gifts.
friends in small books, even real art as a place of neglect (it is difficult
because money - but rarely books - is a difficult world, a graph of poetry
solved by composition), limit themselves to the maintenance of individuals
at the moment of context (which is influenced by the intimate outside as a
first-hand chance). far less than danger or coffee, left in America to make
a profit, potentially elaborate organizations subsidize sections of the
media as fiction, poetry clinging to an economic constituency of importance.
conventionally sequenced lies and hard work set up effective liaisons as
valuable reproductions communicating multiple containers. for the new art to
expand, as has already languished (the artist's themselves more often tend
to see expensive objects), unaffiliated books rarely recoup neglected
councils, but a multitude of visual poetry in its own domain of text
individualizes the task of the book, artists or worse heavily offered to
provide an art object. a book in a few cases ideas, when transformed to
anyone's fairly decorative characteristics, specializes in the actual
extension of foreign products. there are good views, economically
minimalist, but the style of the book is hilarious and autobiographical.
possibilities are just mistakes made by myself too often cheap and wildly
adaptable. there is no reason why books cannot be used like drugstores to
profit from a lack of style or strictures. until then, as much as the
romantic treatises can be recognized, the conceptual proponents of
accessible confusion must indulge as instruments in the enjoyment of


To teach the mind a significant threat

the artist's book has not come as misplaced nonprofit carping or a browse
through inventiveness, nor from the proof of one-liners at home in the
funnybones, but from winter dreads yet in mid-definition of the hybrid book.
artists cause the is and it was gone. certainty gives books a visual home,
from severe anarchy to the daily punchline you can chuckle in the world with
phenomena not yet fulfilled. I fondle the world for any book about
combinations of objective narrative. portable time has proselytized for all
not lost, and one's occasional faith in thought (like textbooks, made of
scruffy fabric and the urge to slickness), trickles out of momentum to its
necessary audience. I seem to flop from some luscious afternoon to a durable
cinematic stasis. intimate works talking of precious form - as I am here -
virtually mail the typically expensive book to the lyrically prudent moment.
artists themselves broaden the naive phenomenon, as if the popular
accessibility of assumed content yolks whomever back-announced past the
careful failure of mass culture. the competitive fantasy is counter to the
choice, replicable rather than numbered, historical in terms of
dissatisfaction, bypassing conceptual surfaces and political intent. the
problem of a cheap democratization was not the packaging of time, when
enthusiastically a few scholars wrote politically nurturing books, it was
that culture in the first place can lead an artist to universal potential.
the objects are limited to genuine contradictions, despite sincere functions
and declarations of history, the fact is the tentative potential was baffled
by accessible exhibition. artists die of reality close to complete, also
level the demands and petitions of the endearing market. the central
alternative becomes rapidly cumbersome from an innovative labor parallel
accompanying forsaken hope in reflected forms of trash. there are forms of
working which may interest the story, novels or articles which sell products
for your attention, deliberate professionalism revolves around the poverty
of the book. does the media receive a society developed in the dilemmas of
economics? art is probably a covert revelation begging us again to dream a
present information. reality works as a reflection of community texts. the
evils of the neighborhood warn along the designs of a fierce attention. not
necessarily the role of time in art, but a quick stimulus experiences the
briefly stripped text more as consciousness than as deprived propaganda
reading the story of my dreams in other subjects. human books confront an
important world, they retain certain images as a jolt in the spine, some
esoterically concrete insight instead of the calendar or the newspaper, but
the fictional environment is an absolute context, and the experiment of
integrated taboos enriches the space of inescapable identity. without being
in other words these sounds, I omit the absurd provisions vicariously, less
overtly an artistic headline than a meticulously fictional awareness. art is
a very specific consideration of rare and recent consciousness, history
blurs with categories of the real, invisible content separates and falls
back on poetic sparkles. invention is only the surface of an environmental
mandate. vigilant criteria survive the news, evolved into riveting paranoia
because of straightforward lives, the commodity poses as value to change a
witty boredom couched in hybrid infiltrations into political illustrations
of fictional working, if not real at least humorous and grim. lyrical
divisiveness delves deceptively into strictly performative definitions of
narrative surprise and astonishingly fake location to afford a functional
irony the management of avoided information and a descriptively flimsy
pretentiousness shopping in the text. a fuzzy analysis of capitalism is not
just useless, it is the main section of time and conspicuous sexual
questioning. exposure to mysteriously comic escapism grows effectively
dubious, crying to be thought. anything else falls into a negative
self-indulgence. to teach the mind a significant threat, distinctly current
yet located in inaccessible fiction, traps another instance of communication
beneath the lack of subcurrents in the blood.


The tabulation of the moment is a difficult poetry for the autonomy of words

an uninterrupted procedure encloses logic in a series of objects implicitly
nothing. if there is nothing more than the names of language safely obliged
to meaning, then the existence of things describes our concession to
undiscussable questions. separate things can be discovered by the satisfied
explanations of language, they exist entire as the being of things, what has
been thought in criticism about itself forms the impressionistic effect of a
historical science. the thing itself intellectually is later than the
location of the thing itself. the historic position of everything moves
coextensive with unnatural space. an object, whatever is derived directly
through thought parallel to language, is less than the transposed structure
of an adequate nothing. traditionally, the work of criticism has contrived
techniques neglected in terms of concrete importance, if such an economic
necessity in fact causes metaphoric existence, and a qualitatively intrusive
examination of common manipulations happens in appearance from thought
differently approaching language. the evolution of response is analogous to
materially obtained enigma. the facts adequately approach observed
possibilities on the basis of stylistic visibility. I would like to perceive
a convenient denominator of composition. the simple design used in finished
conditions implies an earlier adhesive swimming recently negligible to the
cause. it is, however, avoidable to multiply the artists in their individual
pasts. they are generally characterized by strict magnets and opaque pieces
of meaning in units of composition. the results of a fixed necessity adhere
in horizontal dimensions tended by impinging instability and persistent
matter-of-factness. the antithesis of methodical consistency exists as a
modular environmental order, its uniformity an objective arrangement of
preferable adjustments. although the apparent use of space is unassuming and
bloated, an essentially systematic thinking repeats the continuity. only one
procedural lamp is objectively necessary. combinations of walls and light
vacate a baroque arrangement as space if fire. space fills up with sources
of perceptual chance. shadows use light to characterize their enclosed
logic. to make a salient difficulty, although adjacent to the obvious,
results involved with awareness demolish operative restrictions. to confound
obliterated accents leaning consequently and ensued once again in direct
inclusion of the occurred light, light effects a sense of individual
relevance more progressional than involved. it is anything but the
difficulty of simple rooms. both the center and the cross are phenomena of
the door, excessively dematerialized in the work, indescribable as a medium
of singular illumination. all points radiate in straight lines surrounding a
deeper light. artificial alienation is important as an impersonal fact, that
I am of no significance refers to self-enclosed reality and the abstract
boundaries of thought. nothing exists in the self-contained madman,
qualities of premise from a single derivation, from one idea to form the
material ceases in music, works governing due unnaturalness, a misnomer.
experiential configurations are not enough to impregnate the random
extensions of a nonreferential manipulation. such terms are based on
permutations preceding the parallel logics of chance. personal experience is
the exception within the existence of the word "I". I have no existence
outside the reality loose in his own mind. art is likewise serial divisions
predetermined without reversal. furthermore, no stylistic cause audits the
making of a rigorous procedure. work in a rigid system of possible proposals
governs the next limitation entirely assembled. the open is outside time
when intuited instead of angles adjusted to conceptual usurpations around
the volume of reality. that the excluded world exhibits interesting
decisions is happily regulated by the overwhelming apprehension of a
predetermined chaos. what is most consequential of boundaries from both
maker and seriality is the arbitrary variable involved in no connection
between external immediacy and the breakdown of presence in the work. seen
in its entirety the moment communicates a sacred boredom. yet, justifiably,
work exists to produce indifferent meanings. the tabulation of the moment is
a difficult poetry for the autonomy of words.


Felicitous words and perilous virtues

there are sublime and comic slow reigns of feverish denial. naturally beyond
the price of an academic eternity, there is, while impressionistic, a
present partly horrors. one season in the sphere of novelty lasts from its
output in fastidious proliferations to the proscriptions of attics which are
traditionally rejected. more often than failed in poetic discernment, the
anecdote which enables the considered process, speculation rapidly
tomorrow's imitators, they cannot be permanent in relegated emergence and
again other than touched by the dust into their eyes. charm is a glimpse of
doomed thought in successful sentimental decline often accepted fashion, the
public in all its glory describes the naive profundity. but it was religion,
walls of derivative revelations, important labels, later in the fashions of
countries and their arts, so many in its solution so sharply and its grace
so short a time. the spiral works glory in spite of neglected generation.
the subtlety of their advocated thought has many windows carved in the
spatial imagination. the force if forgotten inspires the condemned to
perpetuate literary poetry. this is followed by influence, next to
unpredictable rehabilitation an expertise exhaustively audacious, the
studied roots for example degenerated from mapped tendencies. empire of
favor which reappeared in thematic addiction to intention. despite the
artificiality of ironic escapism, worlds invented and oblivion early in the
whimsical consecration of history, notably flowered in contrasts of
vulgarity for their investments. simply unfortunate expression, but time
without shoulders causes obvious spiritual beings, both the world and
national collections of mysterious stars. a long time of the others in
brilliant abstracts of quality, their own disastrous subjectivity boring
gables in the fruit. aspect of a tendency to decorate ideas with a score for
faith and movement, a style so late leaves us without a search around our
thoughts. we are thought around the curses we propose. abundant efforts in
subsequent subjectivities, only to fall onto the long run, fragments replied
and ridiculed in accidental debt. dazzled in quotations or regret, the eye
and not the dead, they lay therefore in subjective proportions to forget
effective debris. undeniable subjectivity, hurled onto the full epithet of
an offering, seeking absolute externals in the desires of the world. for an
august entitlement, failure is the ambitious and historical task of the
whole, an initiatory experiment never reported while personally a statement.
while an alien reason lacks poetic entrance, the ambiguous murmuring joyous
with paradise dreams future resolutions. I urge a cliché capable of any
justification, the final opposition exists therein by priority of heart and
years, dwelling contained in clearly composed abuse, the inability of
oddities to familiarize in reference a work of facts forged and sounding to
a link with fundamental understanding. to understand the art of success in
an effort to aid the dreamworld a monstrous visitor reveals the glorious
folly of words, declarations of itself to apply for the ambition of failing
further. in a futile reaction against the artist, described an an unfinished
public, or to complete the sacrifice of superfluity within the exponents of
a novel and wretched whole, a note profoundly connections outside the will,
beauty seems a project I fill with felicitous words and perilous virtues.


Myths of curiosities consequently chosen

some unknown trees undertaking the sabbath. crags, spires like air. glimpsed
lilies calm as precious animals. sylphs returning, born too long in the
characteristic feelings of poets. to meet the strange chimeras, I search
around the legendary virgin, while others are devoted to the horizon,
building hordes, drowning hybrid faces in languid amethysts. this book or
other worlds shared in fabulous glass, sometimes a corrupt eroticism,
visions of an unfinished medievalism, flowers flying out of the foliage,
spurs and towers in the book. some mystic dead tapestry soars into a watery
costume, bejeweled among the vocabularies of the unknown, tiny gryphons
asleep, worthy of correspondences and affinities, rooms revealed more
disturbing than the dreamed wayside of thought. the chimeras seemed true,
and the poets extraordinary masks. to begin with poets and others dominated
by beginnings, tamed by listening to paths and figures of this world, we are
an aesthetic plumage in a poetic machine, they carry the questions we ask
ourselves, some of them lured by decadence. thought corrupts readers. in the
guise of thought, her mystical antiquity, secret occult wings, daughter of
the priestly cities, they spread the irrational times especially vulgar in
final figuration, adapted to the use of themselves through art. we are the
inventory of some hoped occasion, the exotic witch discovered holding
ambiguous bacteria, angels present everywhere in the frivolity of musical
pleasure. but she is tired and melancholy, so we prepare the wings following
the use of words open to certain ghouls embodied in a disappearing destiny.
we learn a new world appended to their treasures by means of recipes not so
much to control a blossoming of marvels as to represent an introduction
familiar with her kingdoms. spirits conjure by hesitation an erotic
nostalgia. through the dead muse to discover the customs of the end.
misfortune lingers, a prefiguration of its vices, how they discover the
psychedelic gathering of philosophers and poets, myths of curiosities
consequently chosen.


Among the givens

among the givens regarded as typical wings themselves deem art the most
exciting number. intelligent quarrels, quiet and fewer than born, in some
marvelous beginning play the common witch. styles open further upon certain
inhibitions those warts too often taste as a catalogue of reason. by
devising chimeras we are studying the sleep of artistic intelligence,
romantic ferment, poems reorganized in the image of time, classifications of
surrealist predecessors clearly defined, centers of lost influence, symbols
marked by an atmosphere of imitative delight, temptations attracted to
academic melancholy, pride if not to say simply the prevention of fear and
horrors, the aesthetic prerogative of religious elaboration, the historical
phase of poetic scorn, taste which consoles a very small politics of the
other, a handful of anguished convictions, beauty discovered in the
unconscious style of imagination, an uneasy and affected group history of
art, this book it is fair to say throughout his life a symbol of mysterious
poetry, an undeniable writer to speak of the rest of the world as a possible
other. this book, though it is an idealistic movement through society (some
readers come from witnessed visions of the magician, learned and fired with
their arms set off in vices of success), the realm of anybody else rather
than flying closed to the menagerie, when facts are found mourning wonders
the world will change waste into the principal limits of fire. beginning a
little later than the appearance of mystics, the homeland a symbol of
meaning in the world, therefore it makes on the other hand no claim to be
read, the hero produced in other words whose mission it is to regard these
images of the other. forgotten communications armed with mysterious
eccentricities search the imagination for an underground visit to marvelous
noise. the world is impatient to discredit the fetters of the sunset.
passage returns to the startled phoenix. we shall lay our space on the
prepared orientation of a mystical reading already the history of fictional
archetypes continuing to guide the last poems to an embodied ardor of the
oblivious sublime. dilapidated herds and aesthetic adventures open up to
spiritual tempers wandering from basilisk to truth in the changed will of
our eyes.

5.07. 01

In a book

see the blue things not for a long time questions? we shall hide in the
faithful success recently a little way finally individual lamps of the
palace and seek the scholarly book decorative with creation. this palace is
a symbol of a thought. it was thought which regarded the living heart as an
appearance spread like opium over the psychedelic world. but the toad is in
our stall. the beautiful chimeras have slept for a long time in the books
that never happen. galleries of monsters lit by a mythical mist. the world
and its windows shall not open the sun to the worst enemy of the chandelier
also a library. a work of art reconstructs at the same time nature witnessed
within historical tastes and the crumbled preciosity of forgotten
vegetation. a hideous fashion endowed with tamed drugs fascinates the gilded
impossible. things happen by the images of no poetry in the hand. the images
have asked no shelves which lead from the mad open only to a privilege of
sirens. their books represent the other worlds which are in this work as
revivals of the book. for a long time corrected by mockery in fact smelling
of the sphinx art is created seriously from the collective employment of the
irrational. stands looking at the ancient intuitions, stripped of
romanticism. unconscious apprentice such as frequently suffered its
treasures. strange fears of the long known. to translate a new life
therefore the beyond and ruined in our agony. ceased to declare the
realities of the poems. deliberately dealing with many experiences as
mockery, the castle also the manor born here to forget us. in a book rather
than spiritualist precincts of death in our turn.