Archiv für Mai 2010

„Mass Hysteria“ at August 7th in Hamburg-Hafenklang

Confronted with spaces more than ever gridded and pre-arranged, mapped from the google universes to the nano-th degree, and already (over) saturated with the intentions of others, the contributors in this issue take up the general theme of drifts and drifting. The responses to our initial call range widely across genres (scholarly essays, fiction, nonfiction, film, accounts of performances), terrains (urban, rural, psychological, virtual), structures of feeling, and modes of locomotion from the pedestrian to the spectacular (a semi-truck). Several acts as Hamburgs finest event by Boris HH80 deliberately follow in the steps of the Situationist psychogeographers….conjointly!


As our runnin‘ Crew ressembled a lot good stuff, we shall appreciate the aberrant partnership with B-Grrrlz as chance to settle Britcore Hip Hop in Hamburg with antifascist lyrics as wrote of the body…-… is a painfully intimate first-person account of a Grand Passion, of love won and lost. It is related by an ungendered, unnamed, sexually plural, spatially dislocated, temporally unmoored, and curiously disembodied narrator. The story told in the Vinyl is a simple, even stereotypical, one. The narrator falls in love with a beautiful married woman, XXX , who, five months into the relationship, is revealed to have cancer. The narrator strikes a bargain with XXX’s husband, who agrees to treat XXX only if the narrator abandons her. The narrator decamps for Hamburg, without telling XXX, after several months departs again for London in a futile search for her, and returns north to face an uncertain future.

There are sections of the antifascist lyrics on Vinyl – text meant to suggest that the narrative action unfolds in a present moment—most notably the records last few paragraphs. However, the bulk of the events are retrospectively narrated, with an often confusing relationship between chronological and narrated time, distant and more recent recollections. They also are filtered through the narrator’s memory of such things as his/her previous (failed) relationships and colored by his/her efforts to convince the audiophil listener that the relationship inspiring this story is a singular one, is not like all the many others. The text is thus motivated by a logically impossible effort to demonstrate a negative, and the (ill)logic of negation conditions and radically destabilizes the text as a whole. The simultaneously present and curiously absent position of the narrator is only one of the many paradoxes that pervade this text. These include its extremes of narrative, linguistic, and generic self-consciousness, undercut by the narrator’s frequent lack of self-awareness or its paradoxical stance that critiques the cliches and conventions of romance while remaining in complicity with them. „I don‘t want to reproduce, [the conventions of romance] but to make something completely new,“ the narrator tells us

We call for trans-feminist insurrection:
We come from radical feminism, we are the dykes, the whores, the trans, the immigrants, the blacks, the hetero dissidents… we are the rage of the feminist revolution and we want to bear our teeth; out of the offices of gender and politically correct, and that our desire guides us continuing to be politically incorrect, bothering, rethinking and changing the signification of our mutations. Being just women isn’t enough anymore. We have outgrown “Women” as the political subject of feminism, and it is in itself exclusive, it leaves out the dykes, trans, the whores, the one who wear veils, the ones who earn little and don’t go to the university, the ones who yell, the immigrants without legal resident papers, the fags.
Let’s dynamite the sex and gender binominal as a political practice. Let’s follow the path that we began, “one is not born a woman but becomes one”, let’s continue unmasking the power structure, the division and hierarchy. If we can’t learn that the man/woman difference is a cultural product, just as the hierarchal structure that oppresses us, we reinforce the structure that tyrannizes us: the “man/woman” borders. Everyone produces gender, we produce freedom. Arguments with countless genders…
We call for reinvention based on desire, the fight with our bodies before any totalitarian regime. Our bodies are ours!, as well as their limits, mutations, colors and transactions. We don’t need protection over the decisions our bodies, we transmute our genders, we are what we want to be, transvestites, dykes, super-fems, butches, whores, transgenders, we wear veils and speak Wolof; we are network: furious pack.
We call for insurrection, for the occupation of the streets, to the blogs, to disobedience, to not ask for permission, to generate alliances and structures of our own: let’s not defend ourselves, make them fear us!
We are a reality, we operate in different cities and contexts, we are connected we have common objectives and we won’t be silenced now. Feminism will be trans-feminist or not at all…
We luv you.
The WhoreDykeBlackTransFeminist Network.

Yo! Hermeneutics.