The real lumpen proletariat: cascade of DNA, return of the bright dark star at the center, cast out of the Church of the Real: here be monsters and we succor them faceless, recombinant failed, chance on overdrive, fortune's misfortune and then we cast them out, casting lots, flying sorties into the heart of the Imaginary--Who could let us down but Us? Impacted fractal phylogenies impacting on ontologies: birth of COMPLETELY other, crossings and overloads out of bounds, the whole Kingdom deciding to mesh at the same time. No choice: the birther HAD to be a witch, right? How does one make a family out of monsters (by definition, one a kind, sterile--how can there be family resemblance?) moral of the story is: all crossings are dangerous places -- and the Family is the most dangerous crossing of all. Still and all: IT HAD A FACE!
Exhibit A, circa 1638:
"It was a woman child, stillborn, about two months before the just time, having life a few hours before; it came hiplings till she turned it; it was of ordinary bigness; it had a face, but no head, and the ears stood upon the sholders and were like an ape's; it had no forehead, but over the eyes four horns, and and sharp; two of them were above one inch long, the other two shorter; the eyes standingout, and the mouth also; and the nose hooked upward; all over the breast and back full of sharp pricks and scales, like a thornback; the navel and all the belly, with the distinction of the sex, were where the back should be, and the back and hips before, where the belly should have been; behind, between the shoulders, it had two mouths, and in each of them a piece of red flesh sticking out; it had arms and legs as other children; but instead of toes, it had on each foot three claws, like a young fowl, with sharp talons."
account from The Birth-Mark, Susan Howe
First Probehead
