ignotum per ignotius

Le Moulin du Merle 1999

September 9
Life's an Automated Bitch, in three handsome steps
Bringing R+r to school this morning we automatically stopped the car upon sighting two young deer in the field. After a few minutes they approached us within 20 feet: we could see their wet noses. Elegantly they flew off when I started the engine again, to hurry for more learning.
My buy-cycle then automatically got me mirabelles at 18FF for 2 kilos at the Varzy market, and
my purchase circle was automatically entitled to one free pain chocolat at the bakery: to celebrate the all encompassing Rentrée.

God, am I automatically grateful to live here.

La rentrée
September 7-8
Solidarity Spree
Debunking Demographics: Early Information Age is rapidly becoming more interesting, for the rest of us knowledge consumers. Because Nice Price Knowledge is what our empowerment is about. Want to know what the Netherlands is reading—read: buying at Amazon? Read like this (and why wouldn't we before someone else does?), the Dutch prove to be still opportunistic crypto-imperialist analphabetic merchants (their current top-10 list contains 9 titles of the how-to-read-real-fast-and-superficial and how-to-get-rich-at-the-cost-of-the-new-economy kind, and Ellis' Glamorama...).

Purchase Circles and Buy-Cycles are the avant-garde of egalitarian information access, from everywhere, all the time. The New Emerging Solidarity is so cheap. Information Vigilantes wake up!

This is the hated Komar and Melamid model of go-see-buy-watcha-like; Veni, Vidi, Visa; One World, One Card. Markets don't do excellence. Democracy sucks beyond the fulfilment of basic rights and needs. 'Thou shall not shop different' rules after: love it or leave it. Go buy yourself a life.

BricoDépôt, JardiLand, McDonald's, Sainte-Bernadette: news from the cryptocastles
Codecastle reality check: wednesday afternoon (no school day) we go to Nevers for high and low culture browsing, slowly building up to see Paul Virilio's and Claude Parent's Sainte-Bernadette de Banlay church from 1966.

Paul Virilio's and Claude Parent's 1966 Sainte-Bernadette church
Sainte-Bernadette en Banlay, 1966-1999

- Compact block of grey concrete, the church Sainte-Bernadette du Banlay both surprises and repels at first glance. (...) The church proceeds from an architectural thought defined at the beginning of the 1960s as the 'fonction oblique' (by the architects Claude Parent and Paul Virilio.
from Nevers et sa région... Guide Touristique 1999

Unlike any other church in France, we find it closed. Which makes sense from its 1966 ideology, but has probably 1999ish reasons of theft and vandalism. So we'll have to return to experience its infamous interior. While Sainte-Bernadette is canned a few kilometres down in Nevers, and her adoration is in Lourdes, this bunker celebrates the fonction oblique manifest, and quietly awaits the next niche war in its 60s social housing decor.

- Beyond a legacy of old books and old buildings, still of some significance but destined to continual reduction and, moreover, increasingly highlighted and classified to suit the spectacle's requirements, there remains nothing, in culture or in nature, which has not been transformed and polluted, according to the means and interests of modern industry.
from: Guy Debord, Comments on the Society of the Spectacle, 1988
Sainte-Bernadette de Banlay church front
Sainte-Bernadette de Banlay, 8 December 1966 (consecration)-8 September 1999


church doorthe cross on the side
September 6
Alles van waarde is weerloos
('everything of value is helpless'—is this an idealization? Can we live with it? For it?)

Le jour de la Rentrée
Moulin 2.0 has arrived. R+r returned to school after 9 weeks of leisure. They go to different schools now, which will teach them (to improve their French, to begin with). I'm more sentimental about it than they are. It's a perfect rentrée day: cloudy with sunny spells, some wind to rip off the first leaves, and a nice temperature to sip coffee outside.

Return to school means return to business for parents. Moulin honeymoon is over, which leaves us with mixed feelings. Last night we kissed good-bye to Kristi and John, who in April were among the first, now are the last friends to visit us here for a while. For three days we hustled and bustled around the house with them and sat at this absolutely calm Loire beach, skimming good-bye to summer.

The noble amateur and the bachelor
Following looby logic I'm looking into amateur excellence: inimitable. The amateur de femmes could be a bachelor.

September 3-5
No technology beats lunch
Remembered that one when reading the Cluetrain manifesto (any Literature addressed 'people of earth' is blasphemous, or parody—or brilliant truth) and Paul's careful pick of it. Markets may be conversations, yet (and that's acknowledged in everyday experience) they traditionally settle with second or third best (products, services, conversations—whatever). Now if a 'market' (I like also to remember the market as a fair) is a conversation (or vice-versa: conversation is a market: too true), among friends, among lovers, among enemies (here I go again with the nettime hostile meme), among blackmailers—things are different altogether.

'In an ideal (cluetrain) world' the conversation is among recipients and producers (markets and workers):

- We're also the workers who make your companies go. We want to talk to customers directly in our own voices, not in platitudes written into a script.

...and lunch hasn't been invented to beat technology, but to change employer... (follows: no employer beats lunch). The conversational script should allow maximal informational drift... Meanwhile the pathologies of information habit revolve around ownership: does the consumer market own the information (= raw material) for the corporate market to mould its services and commodities after, or can the latter party still cause uncontrollable urges among its target consumers? Short: do we—consumers—design, condition and produce a demand, based on our needs—to sell it to some 'worker' facility, to craft the fitting commodity or service? Democratization of excellence has no precedent, but under some very strict regimes? Consumer strike is a powerful medium. May the new Ombudsmen rise.

courtesy Rolf's attention, from a wine label
my needs are my castle

A Market/not-A Market: 'changing the way people buy'
Accompany's Demand Network aggregates demand for products and organizes Buy-Cycles to force prices down. Amazon taps from its customer database to deliver inspirational insight in to what Delta Airlines is reading or Canada is watching (Did you know this of the Canadians? Their taste for... I mean, you know... it's really gross...): call it Purchase Circles.

Clue Looby Lunch
Loss of excellence comes as no surprise, market-wise. Invention and innovation are addictive and selective (decisively not common) idiosyncracies, more or less successfully organizable/projectable/mediatizable (in education, corporation, institution), approachable, stimulable (incubator), but not Common Good still. Wild talent. Trickster stuff. Looby logic.

Excellence is looby privilege and principle.

Only loobies find excellence in these words.
It is thinkable that A is not-A; to reverse this is but
to revert to the normal.
Yet by forcing the brain to accept propositions of
which one set is absurdity, the other truism, a
new function of brain is established.
Vague and mysterious and all indefinite are the
contents of this new consciousness; yet they are
somehow vital. by use they become luminous.
Unreason becomes Experience.
This lifts the leaden-footed soul to the Experience
of THAT of which Reason is the blasphemy.
But without the Experience these words are the
Lies of a Looby.
Yet a Looby to thee, and a Booby to me, a Balassius
Ruby to GOD, may be!

from: Aliester Crowley, The Book of Lies, 1913 at the Hermetic Library

A Market; not-A Market.

September 2
Preach what you practice
Trying to get au courant with net.critique (say, the genre) I lost considerable time this morning trying once again to make sense of nettime (home of old boys new media monologue since 1995). Its rants, like so many I've witnessed on rumorous and rhizomous net.culture mailing lists, will only work for you, might even contain valuable links, when you are a subscriber, on daily deleting duty. In retrospect they're useless. For net information supply the nettime mailinglist misses the point, lacking necessary meta-ejaculata...

Monologue Rogues
The limited genius of a Geert Lovink would have been much better contextualized (and catered to his loyal followers who, in return would have fed back and improved on his style, vision and market value), would he only have preached what he practices and early started his own monoblog But that's very unlike a mind that does not hesitate nor ever stops to criticize even the slightest sign of corporatism. Nettime 'enemy' (to use their jargon) Paul Treanor has a superior understanding of information media dynamics: his site is a loaded container of opinionated, against the grain, net critique. And monologue, indeed.

The bachelor pattern of ejaculation
Zero followup is a core problem of bachelor machine eros. Browse the nettime archive and you see what I mean. Zero followup in a networked medium equals zero offspring, or zero spin-off, if you prefer. And it doesn't even as much as stain the screens of the California Ideology it loves so much to hate... (Paul's italicizing).


Bachelor Excellence: the 1976 exhibition curated by Harald Szeemann Junggesellenmaschinen/Machines Célibataires: no on-line presence whatsoever—lost forever?

September 1
Rhyme by Math of Trend
- This man can rhyme the tick of time
The edge of pain, the what of sane
And comprehend the good in men, the bad in men
Can feel the hate of fight, the love of right
And the creep of blight at the speed of light
The pain of dawn, the gone of gone
The end of friend, the end of end
By math of trend.

Johnny Cash on Bob Dylan, liner notes on Nashville Skyline

Leave A Trail
When my mother unexpectedly died nearly 16 years ago, way too young at the age of 61, I was invited by the undertaker to come up with an 'in memory' within a few hours after the neighbours had phoned to break the news to me. I was in a state of shock, not at all capable of some smart last word, when I suddenly remembered her fondness of this saying: 'follow your own path, but leave a trail' (she was a very pure humanist agnostic) , which was expressed in a simple frame in the hall. Today, like then, I think, what this communicates to me, is ones possibility (I really should say obligation) to be independent in ones choice of direction in life, but doing so, in being absolutely private, to leave the others the signs of independence, the way you live it, not forcing them upon the world, but as opening possibilities.

The past week we have the finest of late summer weather, with cool and fragrant early mornings, gradually increasing temperature, but never too hot days and peaceful evenings. To be enjoyed and remembered.

Take Traffic's Rainmaker, when in the second half, over Steve Winwood's whining vocals a rhythm guitar break announces for the saxophone and rhythm guitar and lead guitar to share tender embouchure, preparing for percussion, drums and base to kick in big and the song to deaden in the sexiest of jamming licks: it makes my juices flow.

What would be more misappropriate here than to link to some music outlet? How much can you underestimate a readership!

Follow your own path
Paul and I repeatedly have been discussing (artist) 'estates', starting one night in the hotel lobby in Grenoble, after a long night of shovelling dog chow in Desert Storm patterns, on the occasion of showing our Temporary Autonomous Zoo at Le Magasin (watch the bottom right slide show, the 'Rue', and see our giraffes pop by). Also showing was Paul McCarthy, who had put up several artists' estates: works and documents mainly from late 60s, early 70s. Among them was Bas Jan Ader, of which McCarthy told us about the fight between the widow and the gallery, over his estate, not an unusual thing in the beau world of the beaux arts. Bas Jan disappeared (most retrospectives say 'died', when only his boat was found, off the Irish coast, 6 months after he started the In Search of the Miraculous piece), when trying to cross the Atlantic in a 13-foot boat. He left dramatic pieces and a trail of law suits.

I am too sad to tell you, by Bas Jan Ader
Bas Jan Ader, I am too sad to tell you

August 31
Greetings from Jargonia
Two nice tools for mindblogging jargon: via peterme Keith Dawson's Jargon Scout (nicest feature the Jargon Invention calls) and via eatonweb Clear Ink's SpellWeb, at which HotBot returned 'on-line' minimally (3,564,590-3,560,810) preferred to 'on line' (and Kleerebezem beat Klerebezem 13-0, such a relief). And when I submitted compare 'who'sdoinglyristosparklist' (actually being searched at that moment) and '', this message in a bottle was swallowed by deep waters. One last obvious one for the road: 'blog' to 'weblog' 250-1,340 still, today at HotBot...

Gender Divide Lowest At InfoSeek
Pattern, pattern, on the wall...: SpellWeb is a great demographics tool too—take a look at the man/woman ratio at
Infoseek: 5,966,234/5,560,813
Excite: 2,200,556/1,031,427
Snap: 2,671,952/1,025,445
Fast (volume!): 9,437,723/2,904,916
HotBot (pride of man!): 2,983,900/687,550

August 30
Welcome eatonweb <'blog: vomiting up the web since january 1999> regulars to the blogbuster discourse August 26 and 25, and on Alamut, August 27 and 25. Don't withhold your feed-back to or

IO Who?
Some party mailed a substantial amount of money ('an average Dutch income for the year', according to custom officials who phoned this morning) to our Amsterdam Binnenkadijk address, sent from Florida on August 19, the day after a rental contract was signed. The Iranian addressee (whose name and date of birth were disclosed to me) is unknown to us, or to the police for that matter, but immediately upon not receiving (how did he know? Is he indeed acquainted to the tenant?) his mail, hired one of the country's 'known law firms' to reclaim his dough from customs. I contacted the real estate agent to find out how well renters are screened. They're not, even when they pay 4,800Dfl cash in advance. Interesting information, now isn't it? Stay posted. BTW, some offices down the block from customs, tax officials two weeks ago seized two of my Dutch bank accounts for a sum of little under 8,000Dfl... I owe them some, I confess, but as soon as you move your ass abroad you're the usual suspect.

Privacy is no freedom
If one day some intelligent evaluation is performed on all our public (or at least with some—if necessary reinforced—'persuasion' accessible) information, we're dead meat with no escape. Protect us from the information we want.

Accidentally kicked a bee. From its sting my right foot and leg up to the knee swell to pig foot size. It hurts to walk. So I'm grounded with a big itch. A slight fever made my past visit me in my dreams. Hello my old friends :-), where have you been hiding in the daytime, for the past 30 years? As I would have thought, some of them return allthesearchenginesallofthetime hits... like Reinhard Muskens, a most radical among high school friends, whom I hitch-hiked to Scandinavia with in 1971 and a year before had believed to witness the next après-68 Paris revolution with, on May 1... Now some people hope their friends one day hit a file when they search for their own names.

August 28-29
Embedding vv. Embodying
How is information released from/related to physical reality? In sculpture we were used to 'houwen en bouwen', hewing and building: to release a form, an object from a material, or to build it from it—setting free some information, but not all (meanwhile depriving the material from its possibilities, but one: to become this or that object d'art). Information can be released from or added to material reality in many ways: the Literature ('Literature is the system of documents, publications, their ownership and persistence') producing irremediable narrative, produces infinitely more volume than any object maker can dream of. And I can dream of a Literature even beyond 'documents', contained in physical objects...

Heard It Through The Grapevine
New smooth groove vinyl acquisition (+neat black shoes) from the Seuilly-la-Tour vide grenier: includes Traffic's The low spark of the high-heeled boys, Dylan's Nashville Skyline, Creedence Clearwater Revival's Cosmo's Factory and Marley's Exodus, all original versions, at 5FF (0.76E) each, in satisfying condition: some added value in the form of scratches witnessing all yesterdays' parties that I never went to. Tapping information from dead material's irregularities remains a meaningful operation, as was poetically enhanced 80 years ago by Rainer Maria Rilke (find 'Rilke' to get to the passage), evoking a pick-up needle tracking a skull's coronal suture to produce the Ur soundbit.

Tracking Dead Grooves
alltheweb's fast search hit 1, on <"coronal suture" AND "Rainer Maria Rilke">

- A technologically up-to-date author follows in the wake of brain physiologists, who since the days of Guyau and Hirth automatically think of Edison's phonograph when dealing with nerve pathways. Moreover, he draws conclusions more radical than all scientific boldness. Before Rilke nobody had ever suggested to decode a trace which nobody had encoded and which encoded nothing.
from: Friedrich Kittler, Gramophone Film Typewriter, translated by Geoff Winthrop-Young and Michael Wutz (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1997), Chapter 1: Gramophone.

'Before Rilke nobody had ever suggested to decode a trace which nobody had encoded and which encoded nothing.' Think about that for a while.

August 27
Night Shift
At 4:06am, the early morning of 17 October 1995 I started uploading my first personal HTML files to a server in Amsterdam, from an appartment in the Printers House (sic) building on Hudson Street NYC. The game was called Shadowplay and I was staying in NY for the SoHo Arts Festival for which I had conceived soon-to-be-shelved Tribal Media. All this is history, including my account, which' web files I tried to log into last night, under the impression that only per Septemner 1 I was leaving the old house... but found access denied.

So from 0:28am early this morning I started to peruse my Shadowplay from my hard disc and came to some interesting hindsight.

The idea of Shadowplay was to maintain two streams of events, one chronological, horizontal, projecting 100 years (to start with), from my year of birth to 2053. The other topical, vertical, counter alphabetical from top to bottom. The timeline has two parallel streams; past and future, the latter feeding the former—as I would think now, in 'real time'. Refresh rate then I couldn't imagine to be too intense, so I paced the timeline by year. This was just to grow. Visited links would 'disappear' in the (black) background so ultimately your screen would seem empty (but for 'select all') after having followed all links. Then again, if you know your way around a site, you can even go blindfolded.

extralinking I used a lot for otherwise unlinked files which I put up at different occasions, when the url was only known to a select group. This was arrived at by controled publication ('extralinking') of the url, in a conference paper or personal email or some container. Unique files with unique urls, relating to unique persons/events/real places still interest me a lot. One-to-one publishing, which is different from email or other format.

Nobody uses a horizontal scroll anymore these days. And I still love the panorama. It'll be in Shadowplay 2.0 which I hope to re-cycle around here at some point this fall. Actually its 'journalistic' features have been overhauled by NQPAOFU but otherwise it is still a very basic concept for a site, for a personal web along calendar and alphabetical threads, which I'll try to make a useful extension to this site and other future content.

August 26
Post Scriptum Operandi
'My' weblog (not this one per se, but the ones that I frequently 'visit') first of all is a publishing format, in which contemporary cultural information (news, research, innovation—possibly as narrative) and knowledge (expressed in opinion and analysis and occasional critique) is presented in such a form as to benefit and articulate the medium specific possibilities of online communication. It is agency: it offers selections from cultural and technological developments, widely bearing upon new media (penetration), woven into personal accounts of emerging territories of cultural production, their technological conditions and affordances. Its periodicity is one of its vital qualities, as is its use of online resources.

Weblogs are born from a professional interest in new media, from roughly three backgrounds/contexts: editorial, design and technical. Their readerships are attracted by the specific qualities individual weblogs develop. Weblogs are a consequent and contemporary follow-up to the newspaper 'which is a gentleman' ('de krant is een mijnheer'; I yet have to find the original source for this quote). Weblogs are not only 'a gentleman' (author), but very much also a 'readership' (co-authorship). They're a private/public balancing act, feeding selected bits to selected audiences, and tapping from those, to improve a collective understanding of how dramatically new media differ from the old, and how much we love them for that!

A blogtop roundtable has to be given more serious consideration.

August 25
Paul sent me 17 mails today, I sent him 10. We had real good gameplay going on using email and weblogs, both avoiding more serious engagements. All's quiet for the moment, he did a final(?) edit at 22:10 CET, I just sat down at the keyboard again after outside dinner (we're back at 30°C) with friends, who are leaving tomorrow, so are off to bed, at 23:30 CET.

Breaking Blog News
Avoidance Comes As No Surprise to either Paul or me today... Meanwhile I FYI-ed bloglock and mementum to Cameron Barrett, to get going on a blog summit this winter. Paul suggested some other invitees as well. We'll keep you posted. We could pull it of, our last conf was quite a blockbuster. And made a great just finished hard to get by CD-rom.

BTW: Ceci n'est pas une blague ('this is not a blog')
Did you know that Belgian surrealist trickster painter René Magritte, before deciding which to use for a painting, passed his titles around friends—peer review avant-la-lettre.

Magritte 1965
from: Suzi Gablik, Magritte

Keep Reloading Kids, we're in real time ftp-mode today.

Don't Call Me Middle Names
The medium is our middle name. It is interesting to consider how long a medium persists in the name which carry the fruits of its use. Paul today at Alamut expresses our distaste with the bloglock that is currently invading the personal portal-cum-agency trade. His proposal for web opera or smart soap (the better one IMHO, but skipped as I see from another reload of the site... is this near real time, or what?) is well legitimized and opening possibilities, yet another detour (though P. also skips the 'web' part in the latest upload—sync minds running amock here). It names a cultural production genre or style after its medium—a childhood disease dating from the grand old introductory days of world wide wow and wonder... almost seven years ago. Your blog or mine? (still available)
A medium specific and mementum prone name for the utc (used to call) weblog (or some of them, but which? re: unsolved questions like the journal/weblog distinction, the links-to-links news service/readers digest distinction, content specialization, etc.) hasn't come up from its community. Naming should emerge from distinctive content and formal qualities, rather than from institutionalized (art, design, tech) or quickly historicizing (medium, tech) specificities. A contest through CamWorld seems expedient... if we'll find venture budget for this I offer to place the moulin at the jury's disposal. Nothing like a small blog roundtable this winter, with enough lag space around the log fire...

August 24
Did I say 'privacy rape'?
Take a sneak preview here. Did I say 'politics'? Wonder what I had been eating...

In order of disappearance/to disappear
If it works for the Costa Rican jungle it would work for Burgundy backwaters:

- For the first time your location no longer limits your ability to communicate. From anywhere in the world--mountain, jungle, or city--you can now telephone, email, and Web browse using a pocket-sized, battery-powered wireless communicator whose components cost only a few dozen dollars.

Pocket-size as far as containers go, but it's a great pic. Get Unwired, and for that matter be oMITed, because they are still into this discussion (faux empowerment):

- If we can enhance the meaning of democracy to include 'Information Technology' in the developing world, by dramatically increasing people's access to it, we can narrow the gap between those that are lagging behind and those at the forefront of personal opportunities and development.

Politics anyone? Where would you drop the 'pocket-sized, battery-powered wireless communicator whose components cost only a few dozen dollars' first? Probably Bhutan? (under: Driglam Namzha)

August 23
Dead Language New Media Curricular Math DL+NM=CM
acumen + innocentia = artificium

Coming alive
Kudos to these sources: ObiWan (on-the-fly database access for Perl, HTML, Latin and other indispensible languages—pay respect and ten bucks and go get it, all you Mac users) (which' documentation directed me towards the Internet Dictionary Project in turn) and Matt Neuburg's Latin dictionary database for it brings back Latin alive on your Mac desktop... I was up-and-down using a 1966 Flamarion French-Latin dictionary and a 1984 Aula Latin-Dutch one, both paperbacks...

Looking for sources like and intelligence waste disposal dump sites like and for clever links as refering to curricular trickery and dis-engaging alertness to constitute radical artifice et al... I spent a bonne week-end (only interrupted for the La Collancelle vide grenier and some gardening) on the surf side of the net. For further research I hit CmdD only 11 times, but xtrhard, when (re:)finding these links: Historical Technologies of Information: Orality to Hypertext; behind it is Alan Liu, of Voice of the Shuttle fame; and art-under-information (which she disguises as poetry-onto-media...) nestrix Marjorie Perloff. More on Perloff in the 90s at ebr ('weaves new modes of critical writing into the web'), another re:covered link from days past, which underwent changes, for the better.

It's links like these that unsuffocate me.

August 21-22,, it's all old math to me: ideology + ideology = parody. 'Take me away from all this mess'.

August 20
F for Dandyism
I'm desperate for an alternative translation of the Dutch belangenloos to 'disinterested'—it's one of those words (August 18, last paragraph). Paul re:August 19-20:

- we should D for Discuss this D for Disinterested stuff; I worry about the artists who embrace too much D for Detached becoming D for Dumb, and of course, D for Destitute...

:-) he's right, and getting back to it at (on, in?) Alamut. I was yet trying to imagine a highly artificial, sophisticated disinterest, as a condition of generosity. The stubborn, sustainable and paradoxical kind that can make you really dedicated (to the point of addiction: art is a drug) to a fine cause. Lat. innocens has several meanings that are close, especialy in their mix: innocent, peaceful, disinterested, incorruptable... But Latin's a dead language. So?

My interest in 'dead language' (classicdeadlanguagespeakoriginal) I remember once having read (but where?) supported by Jorge Luis Borges, who claimed that art can only be made in a dead language...

Which dead or alive formats along superior informatic license could be developed, to create a contemporary innocens position in new media?: the media of disintermediation, the media of reputation, the media of abundance, the media of one-to-one information sharing? And the media of hyperbole and hysterical technognosis, global penetration, privacy rape, media of distance pollution (Virilio): commodifying, domesticating hypermedia... and more.

Squirrel Foraging
Every summer my brain melts. I hope it wasn't too obvious. Luckily this summer we had a special distraction prepared for ourselves and the readership, and my mushy brain. Moulin Move is a good show. Alas for me, La Brain doesn't cope all the time. Some days I think to leave her alone. Then I hope to prepare her for the Coming Season.

Sciurus vulgaris
not our Sciurus vulgaris:

Not to be confused with another EVERYTHING/NOTHING
foraging monsta:

May she forage like the red squirrel, who I've noticed since yesterday morning. Now she is crisscrossing the garden and up and down the trees' in all directions and a pickin' and a diggin', to get the best bits. I wish my brain was more like this early Sciurus vulgaris.
Fresh gnaw
fresh squirrel gnaw from the red hazel oposite my studio window; or was it Sitta europaea,or European Nutcracker? (for its, and more sounds see
I do recall looking into animal gnaw and excrements with Paul for the Temporary Autonomous Zoos we built. Later I used the raw data of elephant shit, gathered from the Artis Zoo's pit (opposite of where we used to live in Amsterdam NL), in a piece for Mark Kremer's Wat af is, is niet gemaakt ('what's finished hasn't been made') exhibition (I hear Mark's back in A. from Helsinki years).


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Rolf and Roemer, kid brothers and our sons Rolf (big R, the elder) and Roemer (little r, the younger). Since we moved to middleofnowhere France they make a great team.
( Rolf Indah Jot Kleerebezem (RIJK, Dutch for 'rich' and a common first name) in full, born 17 July 1993: the brooder.
( Roemer Indah Pieter Kleerebezem (RIPK, like in Rip Kirby) in full, born 29 December 1995: the trickster.
G., Gil, Gilberthe
( Gilberthe Akkermans, my partner in life since 1978, mother of R+r and co-proprietor of the Moulin du Merle; leather bag and fashion accessory designer.
Jouke Kleerebezem, author of NQPAOFU since 22 March 1998; father of R+r and co-proprietor of the Moulin du Merle; artist/curator.
Paul Perry, long time friend and artist. Canadian with Anglo-Indian roots. Thriving expatriare in the Netherlands since 1982. Current stronghold: Alamut. Current foothold: gardening.


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