W I G G L I S M

TO NURTURE THAT WHICH WIGGLES

We loop into vital coilings, this coiling, our coiling. We spark the fibrillations of a vague biological embrace. We nurture that which wiggles -of flesh or steel, sinew or circuit, mud or imagination; transmuting art into a zoology of spirit.

FOR THAT WHICH WIGGLES IS AMAZING

We dissolve every bloodless workstation, artifact, and module of consumption, into the acids of living ritual. We grow connections in an ecology of twitches and presences; soaking tendrils of thought and conscience in a spray of fibrous feedback; infusing phantoms and facts with equal measures of visceral significance; writhing among the rivulets and curls of screaming knowledge.

We breed turbulent creatures in a mongrel jungle of plasma, machines, and minds. We struggle to love these creatures, these convulsions, to keep that which is lively, and that which sustains life, in supreme focus. May the lethal pomposities of art and science disappear in the surrounding blur.

So let us gently secrete every milky ganglion and wire into the quivering wilderness; Let us siphen every atom, and theory of atom, into the hot belly of shared being; melting into the monstrous, pulsing mystery of that which seems to be alive.

Let us entwine with the infinite squirming,
THE SUPER WIGGLING,
which thrives in slippery suspension somewhere between us.