Techniques of the Observed
This place where they culture the cultures! I've seen all this before I cry out, eyes closed, flipping frantically through my microbiology textbook. In my body of knowledge there is the apparition of The Body of Knowledge. There it was, over and over!
My magic carpet all ripped to shreds! Ridden without consent. Bidden without acknowledgement! Stepped on and called pretty. I've heard all this before, I lament.
To be put back together by someone else, somewhere. So graphically, carefully directed and conscripted to something far away from itself... It's for their own good!
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How they culture my culture in their petri dishes! How they see things I never saw in it! And how they cannot see what they are seeing.
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I'll show you what I learned of science; it is what we always already knew. For lack of words, it is unclaimable! That is the way of it. And yet, my textbook goes for it: so named, so claimed - that is the way of it.
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In seeing my self observed, I put on a good show. The technique of the observed! Who is that in there? Hidden in plain sight; a history of science!
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