Information destroys. The production of information means the loss of non-language, the physical. What is the shape of anti-information? It is not disinformation, for all information is both information and disinformation, they are indivisible. Anti-information must produce the destruction or nullification of information when introduced to the system. Anti-information must be something which refuses language, which is incapable of taking on language. Anti-information must continually reside in the present and continually change. For anything which is stable or exists in the past is immediately nullified, destroyed and reduced to the realm of language through history, through reproduction, through objectification. Perhaps music can be seen as anti-information, as it can only exist in the present. Yet it can be converted to information, through history, through scores, through recording. The actual physical music though can only exist in the present, but everything can only exist in the present, including the past. It is only through information that exists in the present that we know the past. Anti-information must destroy the information of the present without producing more. An event perhaps could be seen as anti-information, as long as the event does not produce reproductions, accounts, etc. The event must implode, like a black hole, sucking in its participants and its reproductions. If, as einstein suggests, information is a bomb, a fission bomb, then anti-information must resemble fusion, a melding, a continually denser and denser particle which absorbs all information and does not let it out. The present absorbs all information, it continually nullifies information, and yet, it appears, it also continually produces information. Of course it is humans who produce information, but we can not separate humans from the present. Anti-information might look something like anti-matter, consumed within milliseconds by a crushing encounter with matter. A mutual explosion. Minute in an infinite universe inhabited almost entirely of matter. Maybe anti-information happens constantly all around us but is gobbled up so quickly in an ocean of information that we can not see it Or perhaps, on another level, looking from a different universe, we can see a separation of matter and anti-matter. Perhaps we only see matter because we are looking from within matter. Perhaps from between matter and anti-matter we can occupy the difference. Or perhaps from between matter and anti-matter we realize that they are inseparable. That in fact they are one and the same and the dichotomies and binaries and dualisms all are operatives stemming from searching from within information. Is it possible to find or even create anti-information. Must they be kept separate in order to avoid their mutual destruction? If so this means that in order to look at both we must take a stance outside of both, between both. Is this possible? What if information and anti-information are one and the same, inseparable? Because I have a mind based on the language of dualism it is virtually impossible for me to imagine a state between information and anti-information. This would have to be a state of nothingness. A state of the void within ourselves. Between thought and experience. Between the infinite world of the concrete and the finite world of thought. Anti-information must be uncompromisingly physical. The body affronts the soul. The emancipation of body through the realization of its inevitablility, of its reality. A space between the body and the soul.
Archive: Author: wade tillett
abstention
this is the final step of art. and it was taken years ago. the destruction of the border, of the limit between art and life. the annihilation of our attempts to create and preserve a bubble here on earth. i am talking about acceptance. about understanding our life as something beyond understanding. about removing all the crutches. falling face flat and eating dirt and knowing you are alive by the grit between your teeth. it is time to stop the modern project. it was time long ago. abandon. no more progress. there is no progress. abandon all desires. abandon all goals. abandon all objects.
these are our weakest moments, when we live life through a video camera. stop. (and the other day the girl got out of the van stopped in the middle of the road at the plaza with the calder sculpture and the mies buildings, and she stood in front of the big red object and her mom took her picture and they were gone, without looking up, without taking a deep breath.)
abstain. abstain from recording. abstain from painting. abstain from photographing. abstain from writing. abstain from creating. abstain from controlling. abstain from thinking. abstain from limiting. abstain from utopia.
do not attempt to destroy them from within. this only adds to their power. it allows them to include larger and larger areas. until the entire void is saturated with satellites and GPS. art includes anti art. this is how da-da was killed. it was absorbed. is revolution impossible? society has put to rest the rebellion by making it a symbol, by objectification. by absorbing its power. by applause. by psychologist. society has empty shells, cadavers sucked of all their blood, propped at the beginning of the parade. empty symbols, the shells of figures sucked of all power by a mighty sponge. rebellion is a commodity. and the day you are absorbed is the day you are cashed in.
abstention. but how can i stop my self. i feel life slipping you know. this is what separates humans from the animals, the realization of death, and from this stems our whole culture, our whole language, our whole society, all of our attempts to destroy time. “one plays dead so that death will not come. so nothing will happen and time will not take place.” (hollier, against architecture 36) this is why i want to record the sound of the L, because i fear one day it won’t be there. but i refuse to buy into this entire culture of preservation and simulation. if you want to hear the L, go down to an L tracks and stand there and listen. really listen with all your body. don’t think about it. don’t wait till it comes out on video because i am not making any videos. find art. this is how the entire world reproduces, an enormous parasite on the void. by assimilation. by taking what it finds beautiful and objectifying it into something that can be bought and sold. this is economy… skins traded for beads. take a video, or paint a picture, or make a cd, or shoot a photograph, or make a virtual environment, or write a story, or a poem, or better yet a web page about the beauty of the L. no. in no way by reading should you believe that you know what it is like to stand underneath the L. this is not a valid substitution. there are no substitutions. the substitution becomes the reality. and then when people come to the L and it isn’t like the picture, be assured it soon will be exactly like the picture. by making the L into a destination i have objectified it. by telling you to go stand underneath it and listen i become the parasite. hoping to gain some sort of power, hoping to gain some sort of authorship of the experience you will have when you go there. so here is what i will say, if you are there, listen. if you aren’t there, fine, it isn’t that great really. i mean there are a million experiences within every life, within every moment, that are just as great. the important thing is to find art. to keep your eyes open. and please don’t turn it into a commodity. abstain.
i think this brings us back to the question of limits. we have to limit our selves from objectifying every experience we have. but more than that, we have to look really hard to find the void where it has apparently been abolished. we need to find great joy in the fact that in disneyland, on main street, somebody is throwing a cigarette butt onto the fake cobblestones right this very instant. and now somebody is sweeping it up. entropy. reality is the difference between the design and the manifestation of the design. ok, i’ll admit it, there isn’t much joy to be taken in the fact that somebody is throwing a cigarette butt in disneyland. it’s funny, but there isn’t much real joy to be had by that thought. the only real joy brought by the thought of disneyland is that i am not there. i do believe that we will never be able to eliminate the void. we will never be able to attain absolute control. the fulfillment of the modern project will never be attained. there will always be some little glitch that reminds us things are out of our control. we hate that glitch. my question is how can we incorporate the glitch without assimilating it. how can we enjoy reality without assimilating it into the realm of design, without objectifying it. does the choice to not design, to abstain, assimilate the un-designed into the realm of design? if we could silence the L, and chose not to, does this not make the sound part of the design? can we not design if we are designers? can we stop being designers? even the ability to make sound changes the silence, for your self.
these are our weakest moments, when we live life through a video camera. stop. (and the other day the girl got out of the van stopped in the middle of the road at the plaza with the calder sculpture and the mies buildings, and she stood in front of the big red object and her mom took her picture and they were gone, without looking up, without taking a deep breath.)
abstain. abstain from recording. abstain from painting. abstain from photographing. abstain from writing. abstain from creating. abstain from controlling. abstain from thinking. abstain from limiting. abstain from utopia.
do not attempt to destroy them from within. this only adds to their power. it allows them to include larger and larger areas. until the entire void is saturated with satellites and GPS. art includes anti art. this is how da-da was killed. it was absorbed. is revolution impossible? society has put to rest the rebellion by making it a symbol, by objectification. by absorbing its power. by applause. by psychologist. society has empty shells, cadavers sucked of all their blood, propped at the beginning of the parade. empty symbols, the shells of figures sucked of all power by a mighty sponge. rebellion is a commodity. and the day you are absorbed is the day you are cashed in.
abstention. but how can i stop my self. i feel life slipping you know. this is what separates humans from the animals, the realization of death, and from this stems our whole culture, our whole language, our whole society, all of our attempts to destroy time. “one plays dead so that death will not come. so nothing will happen and time will not take place.” (hollier, against architecture 36) this is why i want to record the sound of the L, because i fear one day it won’t be there. but i refuse to buy into this entire culture of preservation and simulation. if you want to hear the L, go down to an L tracks and stand there and listen. really listen with all your body. don’t think about it. don’t wait till it comes out on video because i am not making any videos. find art. this is how the entire world reproduces, an enormous parasite on the void. by assimilation. by taking what it finds beautiful and objectifying it into something that can be bought and sold. this is economy… skins traded for beads. take a video, or paint a picture, or make a cd, or shoot a photograph, or make a virtual environment, or write a story, or a poem, or better yet a web page about the beauty of the L. no. in no way by reading should you believe that you know what it is like to stand underneath the L. this is not a valid substitution. there are no substitutions. the substitution becomes the reality. and then when people come to the L and it isn’t like the picture, be assured it soon will be exactly like the picture. by making the L into a destination i have objectified it. by telling you to go stand underneath it and listen i become the parasite. hoping to gain some sort of power, hoping to gain some sort of authorship of the experience you will have when you go there. so here is what i will say, if you are there, listen. if you aren’t there, fine, it isn’t that great really. i mean there are a million experiences within every life, within every moment, that are just as great. the important thing is to find art. to keep your eyes open. and please don’t turn it into a commodity. abstain.
i think this brings us back to the question of limits. we have to limit our selves from objectifying every experience we have. but more than that, we have to look really hard to find the void where it has apparently been abolished. we need to find great joy in the fact that in disneyland, on main street, somebody is throwing a cigarette butt onto the fake cobblestones right this very instant. and now somebody is sweeping it up. entropy. reality is the difference between the design and the manifestation of the design. ok, i’ll admit it, there isn’t much joy to be taken in the fact that somebody is throwing a cigarette butt in disneyland. it’s funny, but there isn’t much real joy to be had by that thought. the only real joy brought by the thought of disneyland is that i am not there. i do believe that we will never be able to eliminate the void. we will never be able to attain absolute control. the fulfillment of the modern project will never be attained. there will always be some little glitch that reminds us things are out of our control. we hate that glitch. my question is how can we incorporate the glitch without assimilating it. how can we enjoy reality without assimilating it into the realm of design, without objectifying it. does the choice to not design, to abstain, assimilate the un-designed into the realm of design? if we could silence the L, and chose not to, does this not make the sound part of the design? can we not design if we are designers? can we stop being designers? even the ability to make sound changes the silence, for your self.
spam
port
i placed a data cd into my stereo cd player and ported it out to my computer through the headphone jack. i recorded it for a while and then cut it down to 10 sec. i then slowed it down 50% and cut it down to the beginning 10 sec. 14 times in a row, resulting in the 10 files you hear here. 1 original and the rest at one half the speed of the previous one. i then incereased the speed of the original file 100%, recording in the same fashion, resulting in the -1, -2, etc. series. the twinkling sound that starts to appear around number 10 can be heard as pure tones around number 15, if you turn it up really really loud. (an odd thing is that i can not hear these twinkling sounds on the original cd quality sound recordings. i can only pick them up after i converted the cd quality to the web quality recordings you hear now.)
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west
i need to start walking
west
fearlessly on water
and when my faith dies so will i
i will not return
this is the end
the rest is the end
no more fear of death
i am assured of death
welcome, beyond belief
no more staged and meager attempts to regain what we have conquered
we have conquered everything
abandon it all
look at me in the distance
fading to blue
from here it looks as if he is part of the sky
i am floating in an infinite void
i am not sure when my feet left the plane of blue reflection
i don’t need it anymore
this is how my journey will continue…
lighter and lighter shades
the borders, the beliefs hazing and fading
my limbs will become transparent and weightless
my thoughts will empty and shallow
a deeper and deeper blue
and on the horizon, above and below
fading shades of blue
and within and without
a vibrant shade of blue
there is nothing more beautiful than blue
there is nothing more than blue
there is nothing, only blue
sacrifice
we are carnivores.
those of you who affect to have never eaten meat…
you have killed with the rest of us.
the sacrifice is hidden behind blank walls.
(men in yellow suits spray down the sidewalks)
bring forth the blood to the public altar
(how else can we know what we are eating.)
i will wield the knife.
i have killed the animals with my bare hands.
i have removed the entrails and planted them.
look at your teeth,
they are weapons which tear through flesh.
look at your birth,
an enlarged physical being expands.
parasites.
you will wield the knife for your dinner tonight.
you will kill your own today.
no more mercenaries, executioners, butchers,
it is you!
out from behind the hidden walls, the rooms without windows.
you who have never looked the animal in the eye as it breathes it last.
you hypocrite.
you will never know life until you know the blood that flows through
you.
the blood on your hands.
plato
and this is what i propose
(are you with me)
that we tear it down before we build any further
you can’t travel with so much luggage
– and at first, in a barren sky larger than you,
you think that you have disappeared, a victim of your own search
blue in a field of blue.
but deep and below, you have not gone deep enough.
i see the light lined words wisping within you.
i see the pure and platonic forms you desire – you still believe in them!
constructs of the mind, chains with which we have built our souls
you – you are only physical possibility
“believe me, my brethren! it was the body which despaired of the body
– it groped with the fingers of the infatuated spirit at the ultimate walls.”*
at the edge of the platonic gorge
“how can i overcome the great divide?”
from a depth before you – “sacrifice.”
Fools! Not your body, your spirit.
taste the popped and hollow kernels
and now you are larger than them
expanse within the expanse
currents, liquid movements, in the silent and slow moving sea
life is eternal, we know not its limits
how will you know me
you will know me by my faith, a current below
*(Nietzsche, Thus Spake Zarathustra, First Part, Backworldsmen)
a hole
<html>
<head>
<meta http-equiv=”Content-Type” content=”text/html; charset=iso-8859-1″>
<meta name=”GENERATOR” content=”KWrite 0.98 [en] (X11; I; Linux 2.2.5 i586)”>
</head>
<title>
the_scheme
</title>
<body>
what if we were to put a hole in the screen. what if we were to break through
the fleeting glowing pixels hovering on a piece of glass. what if we were to
peek around the edges. what if we were to make the invisible and hidden
semi-transparent. what if we could be invisible and without scale and go
inside…<br>
the factories, behind the hopper windows opened a crack in a screened cage
protruding from the edge of a smooth brick facade, glimpses of enormous
man-eating machines which have, at their furthest extensions, humans under
their control, moving rhythmically. there are wires and steel protrusions and
thousands of crossing pipes.<br>
and on cline ave you are above the smooth brick wall you encounter on 12. the
beast has grown beyond roofs. it is an entire landscape. at night flames
shoot out from the top of the stacks. thousands of tiny lights shimmer in a
foreign land where there are no humans and no scale. this is a
semi-transparent landscape which attempts opacity with a single 10 foot
brick wall at the road. the structures inter-connections are all
visible. you can not separate the steel tower structures from the
pipes that intertwine them and run to other towers and tanks and
burning stacks. somewhere there is somebody who knows what all these
pipes do. they could identify them by their connection and relation
and position and size and shape and material within the process
landscape. there is nothing for show here. nothing to make it
consumer-ready. nothing is hidden in the name of ease of use or
‘freedom from choice.’ there is no graphical user interface. there is
no map. the landscape is the map. the physical manifestation is not
the representation of the process, it IS the process. this is not a
symbolic objectification of the process. the actual process is
objectified. there is no referent outside of its self. this is
a rational thought process objectified which takes on a life, a
function of its own. process diagrams are abstract – lines and
symbols. they do not anticipate the <i>physical</i> form that they
will take on. the actual physical building process is the
objectification of the production process. the production process does
not exist until the time-space deficit is overcome through a direct
physical interaction. this direct physical interaction does not
stem from its anticipation – every detail of construction is not worked
out. it is ad-hoc and individual builder specific. there is an infinite
number of ways to objectify the process, but it is the actual construction
which determines its form. after the process is objectified the diagram is
obsolete because the physical form IS the diagram. the process has taken on a
life of its own. the thought and materialization are one and the same. all
relations are shown physically as they exist physically. every link is shown
as a link – not as the representation, map, or diagram of the link – but as
the physical link which it is.<br>
what if we were to do better. like an inventor who builds through trial and
error. like a mechanic who tests machines and thoughts by running them. that
is – there is no diagram to start with. there is only the physical object
which exists as thought. the object and the thought can not be separated.
they are made in the same instance. they are always separate – at any time
the creator can abandon the project and the thought and object creation exists
in its own right. if it ‘works’ it takes on a life of its own – it gains an
autonomy of process, as well as the autonomy it has as a physical object. we
judge objects by their autonomy, by their separation from our thoughts, as
physical manifestations. we judge life by its autonomy of process, by its
ability to change and construct its self.<br>
so how can we create process and thought simultaneously? intuitively?
we have now entered a meta-world in which we utilize processes,
objects, as we create a meta-process. we manipulate life to create
meta-life. as before we manipulated objects to create meta-objects –
the ‘process.’ the process was the objectification of objects
manipulated in order to create an object manipulator. we form iron to
create a factory process which will form oil. we utilize certain
ready-made objects, such as pipes (the derivative of another process)
to construct our own meta-object, process, life. now we utilize ready-made
process meta-objects to create our own meta-process, our own meta-life.<br>
<b>form follows function.</b> this was a pretty good idea, but the fact is:
<i>form IS function</i>. ‘form follows function’ always begged the question
– ‘<i>which</i> function?’ the statement was usually applied to buildings.
but buildings are a collection of functions. (enclosing, heating, cooling,
light production, noise removal, circulation, waste removal, water supply,
privacy, ownership, control, production of other processes, etc.) they do
not really have one controlling function. what is the function of a house?
perhaps we could say life. but this brings us to a much larger question, what
is the function of life? life is a collection of processes which has no
product. the process of life is life. there is no end result, no product –
there is only the objectification of process. life is process. form is
function. (we are what we eat.)<br>
these are the beautiful possibilities of our new meta-life creations – the
ability to see our life as process. the ability to see the processes which
make us what we are. the construction of a semi-transparent image which
simultaneously is us. now we are without scale. now we are without limits.
now we can not be separated from our connections and relations. we <i>are</i>
these connections and relations. now we have made meta-life. now we
can see our genetic code, its interaction with environments. now we
can manipulate the processes of our own lives. now our own lives are
objects with which we create larger processes. (hasn’t this always
been the case?) the ability to see our life as process will not answer
the question ‘what is the function of life?’ this is an un-answerable
question. that it is un-answerable suggests life has no
function – it is meaningless except that it <i>exists</i>. that is, we
exist as a process without end or meaning. it is only our death that
ensures our individuality. within a meta-life, a process which spans
and consumes lives as building blocks, there can be no individuality. there
are no limits, life is only a part of the process. the information network is
its own entity, its own meta-life which consumes lives as its raw power and
building block. process consumes.<br>
and we, as ‘smart’ parts of the process, get feedback. our individuality, our
ability to create change, rests on the fact that we are limited – in the time
that we live, in the knowledge that we can know, in the change that we can
influence, in the perspectives we can view. we are the mutation producers of
the process’ evolution by virtue of our limits.<br>
we can never understand wholly the process of life which we are. there is
always a time-space gap between your self and the mirror, without it no light
is let in and we feel in darkness.
there exists the possibility to cut a cross-section. to punch a hole
through our understanding. to <i>see</i> all the processes at once, but not
know all of their meanings – that’s ok, they are meaningless anyway.
this is true information overload – to see all the infinite processes of life
extending infinitely in time space and scale and to understand that ‘you’ are
a certain position and collection of processes – a meta-process. there is an
infinite void beyond meaning. beyond belief. we can understand our self as a
meta-process within a meta-meta-process of evolution. we can see the
functions of our self as they function. we can feel the resistance as we
move. the reaction of our action. we can build our processes like an
inventor. the thought and object are the same. we test through
trial and error. we <i>do</i> build as inventors our life, our process, with
every second. there is no separation of process and its physical
objectification. life is materialization as conceptualization. life is
process. life is now. <br>
</body>
</html>
a walk
and YOU! you would not believe…
those stone houses, with dimly lit trees slowly passing
in a yellow light
cast from porches
from that alley, the sound of a generator or some other device
rows of telephone poles and dumpsters underneath the halide
children run just before dawn
“dawn i missed you
you have no idea”
where is she
where’s she gone?
and the black and white dog, a shaggy collie
looks back to the child
the sky is blue and then black.
sometimes, like tonight
a giant ceiling of clouds ready to break
i felt rain
i contemplated returning
i turned
i will just walk by
it was cool when it hit my skin
once in a while.
the bricks, the light, the shadows
they look so terribly real
so terribly slow
so terribly conforming
to all those laws
nothing i can not capture
this is the end
“i try to grab on to reality but its so fleeting
i used to have no doubts”
“what good news do i have for you?
some guys from bering springs, just outside grand rapids
they killed a girl and fried her up in a bbbq.”
the leaves are rendered to perfection
the little iron rings on top of the fence
an endless sidewalk
just beneath the canopy of trees
that brush your cheeks every then and again
and the windows with yellow light
dogs watch out the windows
i see it ahead
it is so real
a corner apartment
the center window is open
a tv is framed so perfectly it must be staged
who is pulling my strings
it flashes “morality”
and a blue light
as i walk toward
who is this
“reality”
what is this
“get real”
“so did they eat her or not”
“no, they were just trying to get rid of the body.
something straight out of fargo, eh?”
the sidewalk
i can feel it through my shoes.
and the cigarette.
it burnt my finger
when i went past the hospital
perched in the lights of a parking lot
a remnant of death
much too surreal
too dramatic
when i flicked my cigarette…
i didn’t see it fly
they would have never thought of that..
NOT seeing it fly.
its the end of the world
the rain hits my skin every once in a while
there are brick buildings
with square porches stacked three or four stories
and dimly lit yellow light windows
and there at the stop light
a limestone church against a deep blue sky
a spotlit stone jesus with arms outstretched like he’s saying,
“what, what do you want from me?”
Antiwar Demonstration Sites
Feb 15 – 16
Antiwar
Demonstration Sites
Africa
Cairo
Cape Town
Durban
Johannesburg
Kigali
Reunion Is.
Asia/Middle East
Bahawalpur
Bangkok
Beirut
Dili
Faisalabad
Gojranwala
Hong Kong
Hyderabad
Islamabad
Istanbul
Jakarta
Kansai
Karachi
Kharian
Kuala Lumpur
Kumamoto
Lahore
Larkana
Layya
Mandi
Bahaudin
Manila
Matsumoto
Multan
Naha
Okara
Osaka
Otsu
Peshawar
Qasur
Ramallah
Sahiwal
Sargodha
Seoul
Sheikhupura
Tokyo
Europe
Albacete
Alicante
Amsterdam
Andorra
Antwerp
Athens
Barcelona
Belfast
Bergen
Berlin
Berne
Bilbao
Bodoe
Brussels
Budapest
Cádiz
Castellón
Ciudad Real
Cluj-Napoca
Copenhagen
Cordoba
Cuenca
Dublin
Girona
Glasgow
Gothenburg
Granada
Guadalajara
Helsinki
Huelva
Huesca
Jaén
Joensuu
jubljana
Jyväskylä
Kiev
Kristiansand
Kuopio
Lancaster
Lillehammer
Lisbon
Lleida
London
Longyearyen
Luxembourg
Madrid
Málaga
Mallorca
Malmö
Moscow
Murcia
Nokia
Oslo
Oulu
Oviedo
Palma de
Pamplona
Paris
Pontevedra
Porto
Poznan
Prague
Puertollano
Reina
Reykjavik
Rome
Rovaniemi
Salamanca
San Sebastian
Santander
Savolinna
Seinäjoki
Sevilla
Shetland
Skopje
Sofia
Stavanger
Stockholm
Talavera de la
Tallinn
Tarragona
Teruel
Toledo
Tromsoe
Trondheim
Turku
Valencia
Valetta
Vienna
Vigo
Vilnius
Warsaw
Wroclaw
Zagreb
Zaragoza
A Coruña
Eskilstuna
Falun
Gävle
Göteborg
Halmstad
Jönköping
Kalmar
Karlshamn
Kristianstad
Linköping
Ludvika
Luleå
Lund
Lysekil
Malmö
Motala
Piteå
Simrishamn
Skellefteå
Stockholm
Sundsvall
Umeå
Uppsala
Västerås
Växjö
Latin America
Buenos Aires
Havana
Martinique
Mexicali
Mexico City
Montevideo
Quito
San Juan
Santiago
Santo Domingo
Sao Paulo
US and Canada
Akron
Asheville
Atlanta
Austin
Bakersfield
Baltimore
Bellingham
Bisbee
Blacksburg
Bloomington
Boise
Brampton
Butler
Calexico
Calgary
Canmore
Cape Cod
Cape
Girardeau
Carbondale
Charleston
Charlotte
Charlottesville
Chicago
Chico
Coburg
Col. Springs
Columbia, MO
Columbia, SC
Corpus Christi
Cortez
Dallas
Detroit
Durango
Edmonton
Encino
Eugene
Fayetteville
Fillmore
Flagstaff
Fort Wayne
Fresno
Galveston
Grand Rapids
Halifax
Hamilton
Hilo
Honolulu
Houston
Huntington
Indianapolis
Jefferson City
Juneau
Kamloops
Kelowna
Kingston
Knoxville
Lancaster
Lansing
Las Cruces
Las Vegas
Lethbridge
Lincoln
London
Los Angeles
Louisville
Macomb
Madison
Melbourne
Memphis
Minneapolis
Miami
Milwaukee
Montpelier
Montreal
Mount Vernon
Naples
New Orleans
New York City
Newark, DE
Norfolk, VA
North Newton
Olympia
Orange
Orangeville
Ottawa
Palm Desert
Parry Sound
Pensacola
Philadelphia
Phoenix
Pittsboro
Portland, ME
Portland, OR
Port Perry
Portsmouth
Prince Albert
Raleigh
Regina
Richland Cent.
Rolla
St. Augustine
St. Louis
Salem
Sacramento
San Diego
San Francisco
San Jose
Santa Cruz
Santa Fe
Santa Monica
Sarasota
Saskatoon
Savannah
Seattle
Sherbrooke
Sitka
Sonora
South Bend
South Haven
Spokane
Starkville
St. John’s
Sudbury
Tacoma
Tallahassee
Tehachapi
Temple
Thornbury
Toronto
Tulsa
Vallejo
Vancouver
Victoria
Wausau
Waterloo
Wilkes-Barre
Williamsburg
Williamsport
Wilmington
Windsor
Winnipeg
Youngstown
Oceania
Adelaide
Aotearoa
Auckland
Brisbane
Byron Bay
Canberra
Christchurch
Geelong
Hobart
Kelowna
Launceton
Lismore
Melbourne
Newcastle
Perth
Rockhampton
Sydney
Takaka
Wollongong
Antarctica
McMurdo Sta.
from:
http://www.zmag.org/feb_15demos.htm