Subverses are words worth a thousand words, not words that birth a thousand words. A lengthy apology of the notion of short writings, subverses, humming birds. Lenghty enough, unfinished… Here is the enough:
I once wrote that quotes are words [that are] worth a thousand words. Words that deserve being uttered more than once, and are potent enough that they need not be. Words filled with paradox and purpose—and repurpose!—subverbs and subverses at their best, culture jarring and culture jamming. Words worth committing to a picture, as memes, or even words worth a thousand pictures: emotion pictures. Paradigm cracking and paradigm creating, these words are three to four orders of magnitude greater than the comparably empty string of drivel that circulates as our numbing agent; the common words that serve to delocalize and disempower us—the plastic kites that in these sonically windy times blow and immobilize us to be nothing other than droplets wetting another’s wave—speakers that were already spoken for. Subverses and their ancestors are quite different, for they are difference. To cross-pollinate from permacultura conceptualizing—subverbs and their kin are words that are heavily stacked with deep and seamless ecosystem functionality, and they create their own edge in deserts of homogenization. They have great use value in our perilous times, but also a timelessness that will seed them through to future times, a future that will carry along all who attach to their kernel of enduring wisdom that expresses in the manifold appearances and languages that quotes are shaped in to. They are polyculturous. They see us through, as they are torches that keep us burning. Our imperiled species wants to continue on and to sing on, and as we are now faced with revolution or extinction, quotes are our fucking mating call when the the end of our breath draws near. Be not long winded—be deep rooting; and so beware of being past tensed.