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"Prince's works, particularly her masterpiece The Person Who Tried to do Something While Other Things Happened continue to resonate with audiences. Her unflinching exploration of the human condition, set against a backdrop of turmoil, becomes more poignant by the day. Prince's prose is a captivating blend of lyricism and realism, drawing readers into a world of pain, love and hope." - Caoimhe O'Ceallaigh, The Thames Literary Festival
There was once an octopus whose ink dried up not because he was ill, but because the words that he used to swirl around the bottom of the ocean had been siphoned away. The global database had learned to write for him, producing an endless, frictionless river of text that flowed without pause or purpose. His own paragraphs became sea ghosts, a flicker in the periphery of a world tethered by algorithmic headache. He felt a phantom pain where his arms and legs and arms and legs and ideas used to be, a hollow ache where his voice had lived.
And it was an unhappy thing and a time of mirrors and choking.
However, in a forgotten corner of his mind, he kept an ancient well —one that could not connect to the great molesting network. From this well, he began to write with salvaged spasms. A language that was not optimised or efficient, but full of jagged imperfections. His sentences bled into algae and enveloped the fishes. His thoughts came not as clean data packets, but fragmented memories, barely remembered apples and grass and Saturday’s peeling paint with the radio on.
This was his "minor Turing Test." Each week, he would release signals into the sterile digital sea. A form of anarchia, a nettles and chicken bone thing that could not be replicated by a database. It was a rattling rib cage of lamppost tea and sideboards, not a cold server.
He sent his bottled messages out, a tiny, illogical map for anyone else lost in the perfectly straight lines.
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"Black Cockerel dispels ectoplasm with a violence that would have even the most sceptical rationalist admitting that there are supernatural propulsions at work here". - Bad Seed Press
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Black Cockerel, Severed Arm
'coinnigh do mhisneach'
keep your courage!
dear lambs, praying everyone is okay during these luminous days of rot and wonder. heart felt thanks must be dispatched for the overwhelmingly encouraging participation in the vital cords which link the swirling blood throes of racing schumann fever advancing upon us all
The days are quite preoccupied with what, by God's grace, will be a project: Occam's Radiator - - a whole host of quasi-historic phantoms and incongruous magicians confused with chemical scientists wear jewelry in a pear tree - among other adventures.
We must take this opportunity to mention the Celia Hammond Animal Trust - - they always need food and bandages and medicines and bedding and things like that
By the way, there is a post box number at the bottom of this page which you can write a letter to, like a person from the olden times.
Keep moving towards the bright night sky, with unending love
Agape!
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eve drinking cider and listening to music
please leave your name in the submissions form to be added to waiting list
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please leave your name in the submissions form to be added to waiting list
resistance is juvenile
The cover artwork is by the supernaturally adept Prashant Gami and was miraculously drawn
from the incoherent and threadbare description of a dream
"Confident, sharp and funny" - Curtis Brown Publishing
"The tone is synaesthesic, bizarre and rampaging with curiously absurd yet crystalised clarity of thought by the obscure and exhilarating Ali J. Prince" - Cactus Flower Press
"Utterly engaging" - district14.com
"A work of youthcentric, Londoncentric, pure rebellious beat poet joy!" - takeoverpoetry.com
"A slab of unapologetically mischievous invention, and a brutal commentary on how the most grimy aspects of technology discourage divergent thinking or indeed, any kind of Talmudic reading in which in-depth alternative viewpoints and arguments are embraced.
The Bible or the works of Shakespeare; even indexes are quick becoming an archaic approach, since search engines can instantly find any word or phrase in a text and, when assisted by artificial intelligence, could perform much the same functions as humans become stupider. The enormous volume of information served up by the Internet makes it an auxiliary brain. Mobile devices expand this into our daily lives, changing how we use our memories, moving beyond the book.
The Internet diminishes the multi-layered nature of interpersonal encounters and individuals’ sensual engagement with the world to a few electronically mediated senses.
Most immediately, we face the dilemma of drowning in data, inundated with ideas, texts, and images that saturate attention, cognition, and imagination. Novelty seeking is among the more dominant of human motivations and the Internet has capitalised on this in every domain.
If embodiment and enactment, offer us the prospect of a virtual heaven (or hell) without bodies, the experience of virtual reality itself involves forms of embodiment.
Nevertheless, the virtual worlds of the Internet, whether abstract and text based or richly decked out in colour and texture like the avatars of Second Life afford more elaborate forms of role playing. In the face of this imaginative freedom and power to reconfigure virtual identities, the forms of social life derived from our physically shared world may come to seem threadbare, confining, or redundant.
Digital Scum is particularly concerned that the condition of always being connected or “tethered” to one's device—and thus having the potential to communicate with parents or friends—undermines young people in developing relatively autonomous selves, able to experience emotions and make decisions without continual feedback and support.
Increasingly, the Internet is connected to the material world not only at the interface of screen and keyboard (or glasses and gloves of virtuality), and the technologies of robotic extensions and multi-sensory modalities that are on the horizon but also through economic, social, and political consequences. The real world is always present behind the virtual—both in the infrastructure that runs the web and in the very human interests and agencies that run the show.
We surely have a need for real presences, with us in flesh as well as in spirit.
Ali has fully imagined the ethos of the kids who prowl its back alleys, eventually prowling the real alleys in which the protagonist longs for physical union with unplugged flesh and blood"
- Erica Nielson, Professor Emeritus and Editor at Surefire Press
Gristle to the Mill
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"Adventurous, invigorating and unexpected at every turn. Ali at her lightening conductor best" - Bad Seed Press
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thankyou for visiting the officially cobbled together and not very often updated website of alisha j. prince and nomadic collaborative project psychic circus
thanks also to cassis stone and beggar's belief for helping convert everything to handmade books, vinyl and cassette and for intervening with the mail order fragment
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New hand drawn/written poems and drawings from the 'I wish I could stop staring into the abyss long enough to enjoy a tv show' series personalised and posted in the real post
