“It was about people whose mental diseases couldn’t be treated because the causes of the diseases were all in the fourth dimension, and three-dimensional Earthling doctors couldn’t see those causes at all or even imagine them. One thing Trout said that Rosewater liked very much was that there really were vampires and werewolves and goblins and angels and so on, but that they were in the fourth dimension. So was William Blake, Rosewater’s favorite poet, according to Trout. So were heaven and hell.”
– Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five
Ktismatics 
I never read any Vonnegut for some unknown reason. I really should.
I probably asked you this before, but did you ever read Flatland? Perhaps objects really do withdraw to the fourth, fifth, six dimensions. But that would make them – at least theoretically – eventually, essentially knowable.
I believe, following Syd Barrett, that the seventh is return…
Saw Fassbinder’s Welt am Draht at the weekend. Brilliant film. Sometimes our being(s) go on for eternity. Maybe. The Matrix is inevitably invoked on the back cover of the DVD. The Matrix is touchstone for a generation, to my inter-generational disappointment.
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This novel is on my list.
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I’ve not read Flatland. CS Lewis invokes it as a metaphor for spiritual awareness, sort of like Kilgore Trout’s scheme. Trout appears as a recurring character in Vonnegut’s books. Trout isn’t much of a writer, his books don’t sell, and he’s pretty much of an asshole, but his crackpot ideas turn out to be true in Vonnegut’s alternate reality.
I’ve seen only one Fassbinder movie. I see he was fantastically prolific, and it looks like his oeuvre covers a lot of genres.
I’m on a noir novels kick lately. Somehow Slaughterhouse-Five came to mind in the middle of my spree, so I read it too. The noirs though are what have gotten me back in the fiction-reading groove.
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What one did you see? I’ve seen a lot but he was so prolific that I can’t be bothered to see them all, even if they’re mostly terrific (some are bad). I don’t think he slept during the seventies. He made about four films a year and produced several stage plays a year. He died aged 36 from drug and alochol abuse, but he crammed in several lifetime’s worth of stuff.
His major TV series, an adaptation of Berlin Alexanderplatz is simply amazing. It is the best and worst of Fassbinder in one place. It is, along with Bergman’s Scenes from a Marriage and Fanny & Alexander, the best TV series ever made. Bar none. Take that, Wire fans!
Check out Welt am Draht, if nothing else, I think you’d really like it. Great use of Fleetwood Mac’s Albatross too.
Flatland is a very funny, important and lovely book, in my opinion. Abbott was a theologian so he was concerned to present the idea of multi-dimensions against mathematicians who dismissed them, including Lewis Carroll. These days I think he would have written something against the super-atheists like Richard Dawkins.
So what noir novels having you been reading?
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I hadn’t known Berlin Alexanderplatz was a TV miniseries, because it was released theatrically in the U.S. (acc. to Wiki), and I saw a few episodes per evening of it, but didn’t make it to the end. I wasn’t as impressed as I’d expected to be, but interesting that I thought it was just a very long movie. ‘The Wire’ is a series, isn’t it? like the Sopranos, Sex and the City, etc., that go for several years? That’s very different from a miniseries.
I have found that the miniseries is one of the best of all formats, better even than the best series like the Sopranos. ‘Brideshead Revisited’ was great in the early 80s, in about 1993, ‘Wild Palms’ by Oliver Stone and Bruce Wagner was incredible, it was a near-future sci-fi miniseries that ‘matured in 2007’, I noted that (it wasn’t quite like that in the real 2007 any more than 1984 had been like Orwell’s), and was a very complex exposition and satire of Scientology (‘the church of Synthiotics’) and ‘virtual re-live’ was one of the exoticisms. In 2003, there was a French miniseries of ‘Les Liaisons Dangereuses’ with Deneuve, Rupert Everett, Natassia Kinski and Danielle Darrieux (who’s still alive), which I thought easily the best version I’d yet seen. The miniseries does allow you to tell the whole story, oh yeah, going back to old Masterpiece Theaters, there was a brilliant one mid-80s from J.B. Priestley’s wonderful WWI music hall novel ‘Lost Empires’, I guess that was 7 parts, and maybe those were the first miniseries, not sure, I believe the PBS Masterpiece Theater shows started before the term ‘miniseries’ came into regular usage. But for a real adaptation of a difficult novels, the mini-series can’t be beat, and is much better than those old Russian and other 7-9-hour things that people would watch at 2 evening sittings, I think there’s supposed to be a great ‘War and Peace’ like this, but then that ‘Berlin Alexanderplatz’ schedule really had been hard to stay with–looking back, part of the reason it may have seemed somewhat ‘less striking’ was that it was television, but I’m not sure. ‘Mulholland Drive’ was originally set to be a TV production, and going the other way is probably pretty rare (becoming a theatrical feature.) I don’t know anybody else who’s seen that French ‘Les Liaisons Dangereuses’, but I do recommend it highly, and Deneuve is perfect as Marquise de Merteuil, and Everett redeems some of his silly perfs. with perfect French in this as Valmont. Much preferred it to the Close/Malkovich/Pfeiffer movie which is more famous.
Does make me now think that even the most impossible literary works, like Proust, could be done as miniseries with the money, and I’m sure it could be found if they did these. The two Proust films I’m aware of ‘Swann in Love’ w/ Jeremy Irons and ‘Le Temps Retrouve’, with tons of stars, are neither that satisfying, although I thought the first was somewhat better than most did, and the second considerably less impressive than critics received it (the characters had to be abbreviated to such degree that Odette, the Verdurins, Gilberte, etc., seemed like ‘stick people’, and Deneuve looked ridiculous as an ‘old Odette’.)
But never saw ‘The Wire’, for which I guess I’m glad, so that kept me out of the endless discussions of Time Warner and HBO that Arpege and Steppling used to essay. I think it had to do with racism, but it may have had to do with feminism. That’s all they ever discuss, it seems (they may have a point once they prove that those are the only two subjects that have actual important reality. I’m taking a break from that business.)
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Noirs recently read:
– The Killer Inside Me, by Big Jim Thompson
– Pick-Up, by Charles Willeford
– Down There, by David Goodis
– Double Indemnity, by James M. Cain
I’ve read the first 4 chapters of The Postman Always Rings Twice, also by Cain, which looks like it might be the best of the bunch.
The only Fassbinder I’ve seen is Fear Eats the Soul, which is very good. Have you read the novel Berlin Alexanderplatz, NB? The Wiki entry describes it as Joycean. I don’t have any available sources for Welt am Draht.
As for miniseries, I previously reported that we watched and enjoyed the I Claudius BBC from the 70s. Lonesome Dove was a good one, but I honestly can’t remember having seen any others.
Tomorrow through Friday we’re off to Portland OR to scout Reed College, which is high on Kenzie’s list. I’d never heard of it before, but Reed seems to be a well-regarded liberal arts school.
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My ex-gf, the ballet bitch who I was involved with for 5 years, is from Portland and went to Reed before going to Columbia, where she’s been stuck in psychiatry and unfinished dissertation neuroses ever since. Can’t accept the fact that she’s just a nympho like me, it’s harder on the wimmerns even though they started it.
I read Thompson’e ‘The Killer Inside Me’ sometime in the 80s. It’s very interesting, I think there’s interesting stuff about the horrors of morphine in it that was very ‘alternative-spacey’, and his ‘The Alcoholics’ is wonderful, because the alcoholics being treated for alcoholism can get drinks if they beg hard enough for it. Fucking hilarious, I never heard of so sick an idea, they just wear down the staff so they can cure their postponed hangovers or something. ‘Postman Always Rings Twice’ and ‘Double Indemnity’ never read, but both made such amazing movies. The early Lana Turner one is her best film, and she just OOZES sex, much better than the later Jessica Lange/Jack N. one, but you probably know this. Nothing, but nothing, is better than Barbara Stanwyck in ‘Double Indemnity’, esp, when she says ‘you-ah huh-ting me’ when McMurray is trying to kiss her to celebrate how he’s ‘on board’ for the crime, but Stanwyck still only concerned with immediate sensation (in this case, minor pain.)
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I just heard that The Killer Inside Me has been made into a movie, which just got released. I suppose I should go see it now, though it sounds as if sensationalistic violence is the big drawing card. Big Jim was more subtle in his S&M fantasies, though some bad shit does go down.
We’ll be viewing Double Indemnity tonight. I’ve seen it before, and I expect that Raymond Chandler’s mood artistry spices up the dialogue. Cain’s book is so procedural it reads almost like an insurance claims manual. Postman runs at a higher temperature. I’ve never seen Postman, but with the novel in hand and Lana as star I must make a point of it, perhaps two weeks from now after other obligations have been fulfilled.
A surprising Reed connection. Hopefully the school doesn’t instill that ABD hesitancy in its graduates.
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Never heard of Pick-Up or Down There. Are they famous books? The Postman Always Rings Twice is Cain’s best one … so they say. All I know is that it made a terrific movie. There’s a version by Visconti too … is it Visconti? It’s called Ossessione anyway. Good film too.
The new film of The Killer Inside Me came out here already. It’s by a British director called Michael Winterbottom. Unfortunately, while I appreciate his prolific work rate and the variety of his work (he made the Tristram Shandy film and the Daniel Pearl film), I don’t really like his stuff. Maybe I should check the new one out though.
Fear Eats the Soul is great. I demand that you see more Fassbinder! Shame you can’t get Welt am Draht. It’s only just be released here, so maybe they’ll be a US release soon via Netflix.
I bought Berlin Alexanderplatz, the novel, this year after watching the TV series. Er, I found it incredibly difficult and gave it up after a couple of chapters. I’d like to think that it was really to do with the edition I got, where the text is sans-serif. Apparently, sans-serifed text is great for signs, not so good for dense text. At least, that’s my excuse.
Quantity, you’re right: a miniseries is pretty different from a series. Each series of The Wire ran for 13 episodes though, like Berlin Alexanderplatz. I never saw The Wire apart from the very first episode, which was okay. I understand that you have to keep with it. To be honest, I only mentioned The Wire because it is endlessly lauded by UK newspapers as the greatest TV series ever made, or even the greatest TV programme ever made. I’m sure it’s great, but I always want to stick the needle into comments like that.
Did you mean Fanny & Alexander having a theatrical version, rather than Berlin Alexanderplatz? I didn’t know that Berlin Alexanderplatz had had one. The theatrical version of Fanny & Alexander is a (long) waste of time because they cut it to just the plot points. The TV version is infinitely richer. With the theatrical cut, it’s a bit like making a film of Proust and just concentrating on the plot! The miniseries can do so much more.
Talking of Proust, I absolutely agree with you about Raoul Ruiz’s Time Regained. The only really good thing about that film is that it inspired me to read the books. I remember thinking that the good bits were the voiceover; ie the text. All that furniture being moved around to suggest the flow of memory was frankly embarasssing. I haven’t seen Swann in Love. I think it was panned at the time, while the critics loved Time Regained, so it’s probably very good.
I never heard of the miniseries of Liasons Dangereuses. Sounds very intriguing. Is it on DVD?
I was unkind to Wild Palms when it came out because there was a swathe of “quirky” miniseries in the wake of Twin Peaks, and I lumped it in with those. I’m also a bit allergic to Oliver Stone. I like the sound of the Church of Synthiotics though.
Fassbinder’s Berlin Alexanderplatz is nearly 16 hours long and definitely has some duff episodes (the seventh one clangs in particular), which is no doubt down to his drug intake at a particular stage of filming. But when it’s good, which is most of the time, it’s amazing. The two-hour epilogue, in which Fassbinder dreams of Biberkopf’s dream of life (or something), is unlike anything I’ve seen on TV.
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No, not a theatrical version, but rather a theatrical release. I guess it was just the TV miniseries, they showed it at one of the art houses (there were two called the Thalia, one near me, and they’re both now closed), and I went (with other overdone types) to see it, thinking I’d stick to it to the end. What I may do is try your Epilogue alone. I might have stuck with it had I known it was TV, but at that time I really didn’t know what the different look of TV was, I just picked it up, maybe. The theater was sort of dirty and uncomfortable, all the art houses here except Film Forum are, and I remember complaining about that to a ballet mistress I used to play for, and she said ‘Dear, I think it’s called DIRT.’ But there are smaller variations on this TV-to-theatrical release thing, as that Jeanne Moreau thing from the mid 90s ‘Summer House’, I believe, that had been a BBC.
I’ve never seen ‘Fanny and Alexander’, but had been about to watch the movie version, I guess it must be. Never knew about its origin as a miniseries till I read your post. Yes, I imagine it was very good. I’ve seen most of Bergman and can’t remember why I didn’t get around to that one.
I’m sure this Liaisons is on DVD, because at the time it was even on VHS, in the last year or two those were still being produced. It’s ‘updated’ to the 60s, but it doesn’t suffer from that, you don’t pick up anything except that people are in modern dress, i.e., it has no ’60s atmosphere’, and this is fairly unique, I think, because I usually am very distracted by updatings. I have been unable to figure out why this hasn’t been paid attention to, because when I found it at a video store (by accident), I thought, of course Deneuve was literally born to do the Marquise de Merteuil, and at the end, she stands as usual, bewildered that her life of aberration may not have paid off (I suffer this malady from time to time, as I’m sure you’re aware :}, take yesterday, for example, and then I’ll get a dream which will cure it, and that will make me want to see the dream in Berlin Alex, etc., although I doubt they’re similar.
Main thing to reconsider is ‘Wild Palms’. THAT is a kind of exotic masterpiece, and its portentous warning is not yet dated even. Oliver Stone didn’t exercise that much control over it, and let Bruce Wagner make most of the decisions. It’s HORRIFYING. I remember when it was first airing I would feel sick and I would think about scenes I’d seen all the time. I couldn’t believe how I couldn’t bear to watch it. It was truly violent and full of the coldest of blood. Angie Dickinson is one of the vicious ‘Fathers’ of the Church of Synthiotics, which also owns television stations–‘I have seen the future, and it’s CHANNEL 3!’, and there are these scenes in which she takes her daughter away from a dinner party and assaults her, socking her with fury in the stomach, saying ‘You gotta a MOUTH ON YOU!’ It’s got this incredible vulgar energy I never really saw in Twin Peaks, but the sinister feeling may well have come from Stone, who likes that sensation of paranoia, which even the credit-crawl music causes. I found the vhs when they were selling them out a few years ago, and you still see the shimmering palms with that fragment of music that always appeared with the commercial breaks and they made you feel even weirder. That girl from Sex and the City, Kim Cattrall, was quite good in it as well, and could have made something of herself as an actress had she not sold out to that idiot Sex and the City. Robert Loggia also. Well, it seems you saw it, but there were other oddments that I’ve never seen happening: They put out slick ‘accompanying books’ at the bookstores to accompany the film which would have extra material not seen in the miniseries, ads for Synthiotics like ‘Seeing is Bereaving’, then something like ‘Thinking/Knowing is ?’ (can’t remember) and finally ‘Touching is ?’ (should remember that, too, but don’t.) It sounds as though your aversion to it is different from mine, it really terrified me in a way I’ve never had a film do, and I was working in Wall Street and would go look at this ‘Wild Palms Workbook’ on my lunch hour, paralyzed with a state of weirdness from it, and this lasted about 3 weeks. This was even before I saw the whole movie, because I’d have to keep turning it off, it was a new kind of brutality that Wagner/Stone had managed to get that would accompany every scene, but in a new form. Lynch NEVER gets that effect, not in anything (that’s not necessarily a criticism, his is just ‘slower disease’, you might say. I think about 1997 I rented the VHS and watched the whole thing at home, and couldn’t believe how good it was.
Quirky, I guess you could say so. But Stone wouldn’t need to imitate Lynch, as it were. Wagner, I remember saying ‘I don’t think we were ever exotic just for the hell of it’, although I’ve read most of his novels, and it’s a very singular LA-provincial milieu–even ‘Wild Palms’ is naturally in LA, and the sun is always bright, such that even Josie Ito (the Angie Dickinson character) makes it even brighter with one of those reflectors by the pool, she usually has a flute of champagne, you may remember all this, then chokes her daughter to death in the Church or Synthiotics. Then there’s the ‘Wilderzone’. But’s it’s full of things I’d never seen anybody thinking of at all, certainly not on prime-time TV. I don’t think it got a big following like any of the Lynch things either. In the ‘workbook’, there was an ‘article’ (meaning the format for a ‘celeb feature’ piece) called ‘Josie Ito at home’ and she’s showing her Japanese furniture (emphasis on japan at the time had to do with all the greater talk of Japan’s economy in early 90s). I remember that I got so strange during the brief period when ‘Wild Palms’ was a kind of sensation that I made weird telephone calls to people, trying to pin down certain actors/actresses that I swore were also in the film, but weren’t, in fact. One girl I interrupted about Anne Archer (who wasn’t in it) during a party she was throwing, and she was not amused. What’s worse, I wasn’t even drunk, and recently I was told ‘put down the crack pipe’ on a board (yes, as recently as Friday), and I’ve never had any proximity to crack. I suppose I’m just naturally unbalanced, and what next? Wait for the shoe to fall off, I guess.
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I saw the Tristram Shandy, which was okay though not particularly stirring. I wrote a couple of posts about The Wire, which I thought was terrific though perhaps 1 or 2 seasons’ worth might have been sufficient. Racist? Maybe, in the same sense as Avatar or the Dark Knight, what with the white cop designating himself as vigilante savior of the black city, which consists almost exclusively of dealers and addicts. I saw it in a more hopeful light, with the anticrime unit using the criminals’ own tricks against them in very detailed procedural ways as a kind of guerrilla insurgency. Of course this could be the antihope, with The Master using The Servant’s tools against him in a counter-revolutionary crackdown.
By the way, NB, I recently came across three very entertaining British films, all interconnected: first came 2009’s In the Loop, which led me to Franz Kafka’s It’s a Wonderful Life, which in turn pointed to Withnail and I. These items may be iconic in GB and rightfully so, but I’d never heard of any of them.
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Yes, I thought that ‘Tristram Shandy’ thing pretty much of a bust, all about basically how you couldn’t film TS. I think it’s often cited as being so ‘cinematic’, and it took me 3 1/2 years to read it, finally it picked up and made me go ahead. I can’t think of a more (at times) maddening book. Going through ‘Ulysses’ the first time, even if you don’t get all of it (and of course you don’t) is not nearly as infuriating as TS, which is straightforward in a traditional sense anyway, narrative-wise.
Well, 300 and Avater and Dark Knight and The Wire have probably all been designated by Arpege as racist, considering that she is the Mistress (sexist term) of a certain genre of Media Critique at this point, but doesn’t want it recognized as such. Her critique of Zizek and the Black Man with the fly-swatting prick is one she likes to bring up to me. It’s actually one of his less offensive forays, and the black man’s reaction is not really that serious, and things like that happen in real life all the time; she interprets that scene as though Zizek’s ‘white yerrupeenism’ thereby made him able to appropriate this ‘magic penis’, which I find a bit contrived, although I do think Zizek should ‘say it ain’t so’ by going all the way. Not that that would prove it to the Media Conglomerate Mistress, given that I ‘go all the way’ with some of these types whenever I get a chance, and I still get the feeling she thinks that my enjoyment of my attractive dark partners is somehow ‘racist’. Now THAT is quirky, I’d say: one’s affection, if white, has to be racist by its very nature to all Blatinos (my favourite variety, it seems.) Some writers need to wake up and realize that it’s a big world, and not everybody can be condemned for being born well-to-do or also for not being born a Closet Lesb’an Marxist…
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Well, I’m definitely going to track Wild Palms down. Sounds great. As I said, I was unkind to it at the time because I lumped it in with Twin Peaks wannabes. I didn’t actually see any of it. Having Oliver Stone over the credits didn’t help either – although you’re right about his liking for paranoia, which he does well.
I think Berlin Alexanderplatz is too much for cinema sittings. A couple of cinemas did that over here in the 90s. A couple of friends watched the whole thing like that over a weekend. It moves too slowly and, weirdly, too intensely. I hired the DVDs and watched the whole thing over about three weeks.
Fanny & Alexander and Scenes from a Marriage are both great – but don’t watched the cut-down “theatrical versions”. They’re both about five hours long in TV series format. Criterion has them and they’re probably available via Netflix. Well worth watching.
Yes, Tristram Shandy (or A Cock And Bull Story as it was called over here – we’ll never grow out of “Carry On”!)was disappointing. Although I found some bits pretty funny, I was irritated by its pretending to be true to the spirit of the novel by finding it impossible to make a film. Ha, ha. A poor reading of the novel, in my opinion. The thing about TS is that it carries on anyway. Instead, we get a kind of po-mo comedy of manners that’s pruriently obsessed with Steve Coogan’s affairs. He’d just split from Courtney Love at the time, and thus the po-mo mirroring continues… Blah.
The only one of those films I’ve seen, John, is Withnail & I. In the Loop is a feature spin-off of The Thick of It, a popular fly-on-the-wall style comedy about New Labout spin doctors. Peter Capaldi’s character is based on Tony Blair’s chief spinner, Alistair Campbell. I never really watched the series because, er, in a rather pathetic way, I found all the characters odious. It just made me think, “Hey, but that’s what’s happening in real life – why am I laughing?” Everyone else I know loves it, so I should check it out properly. Both the film and the series were made by Antonio Iannucci, who worked with Chris Morris on Brass Eye and The Day Today etc. Chris Morris’ new comedy about suicide bombers from Sheffield, Four Lions, is definitely worth seeing.
I haven’t seen Franz Kafka’s It’s a Wonderful Life either, though I remember it won the Best Short Film Oscar. I think it stars Capaldi, and was maybe directed by him…?
What’s the link to Withnail though? I give up. I like Withnail, but it’s one of those films that people of around my age keep quoting at me. You know: “We want the finest wines available to humanity…etc” Apparently, Richard E Grant meets fans quoting lines at him wherever he goes.
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Did see scenes from a marriage, though it was probably the cut version. Was very impressed, however, but probably would have been more so by the long version.
I think you may find that Stone has used his gifts for projecting paranoia very well in ‘Wild Palms’. There is, for example, a meeting of Establishment-type suits that turns into a brawl which one would associate with less formal types, say Mafia or Suge Knight’s ‘offices’ at Death Row Records, notorious for people constantly getting beaten up right in the recording studios in the name of the art of rap–of course, this is somehow ‘systemic racism’ in the definitions. btw, by today I realize that if I was attracted to white sexual partners (I also am), that would be racism too, just the opposite kind. I suppose anything white males do is White Male Supremacist Racism, which is why I recently invented White Lesb’an Supremacy, deleted the comments and emailed them to pietpoet so as ‘not to upset the ladies’. But Arpege’s unique style is, like everybody else’s, to some degree reducible to style, and not necessariy potent political ‘action’, so that one can enjoy them without getting angry, which you are supposed to do, btw, unless you are a White Lesb’an Supremacist. I was told ‘if you could just get rid of that ‘pesky Other’. The way I see it, they’ve got the Lesb’an, but can’t get rid of that ‘pesky white’. Isn’t a ‘black Lesb’an’ the only candidate worthy of total and authentic supremacy in a world where Badiou has the gall to talk to Finkielkraut without asking permission? i think it’s hilarious, frankly.
That TS movie is truly terrible, now that we’ve got into some discussion of it. That girl Gillian Anderson is fairly depressing anywhere you see her, although decent in Davies’s 2000 ‘House of Mirth’, but nothing compared to what Geraldine Chaplin did in an earlier version (that was sometimes an amazing actress.) They were acting like she was this big star, and it was like this bullshit ‘production story’ that reminded me of a sort of amateur 60s thing like Russ Meyer’s ‘Beyond the Valley of the Dolls’, although that’s a little far-fetched, I admit, esp. since ‘Beyond the Valley..’ is hilarious with the women all chosen because of huge tits, and then told to behave as if nice middle-class housewives (without the soft-porn music, etc.).
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Didn’t explain that ‘suit meeting’ quite well enough, it sounds innocuous on the face of it, but it seems to come out of nowhere, and it has something to do with the photography. There are dozens of striking images I’ve never seen anywhere else, Angie is all of a sudden seen on ‘home telephone-television’ in bed with Robert Morse, psychiatrist to Angie’s lover (supposedly). I think they tell him (she with her campy champagne flute still in hand) to ‘grow up’ or something really gross like that. I usually don’t agree with the critic David Thomson, even though his Film Encyclopedias are good in some ways, but he does understand what Dickinson was capable of when she got the right director. Josie/Dickinson’s ex-husband is played by David Warner, and he gets out of the prison or asylum (there’s a lot of fraudulent psychiatry done by attractive young men done up in Edwardian style suits, who do a lot of lying, of course.) Josie/Angie expects him to automatically be in love with her again! When she kisses him, he bites her lip, and then she has him slowly drowned in a high chair in a swimming pool! while saying to him “it could have been so good, Eli.” In one of the virtual realities, the reality and the virtual are combined as Angie’s daughter, played by Dana Delaney, is shot in the heart, but since it’s half-virtual, she still walks around and says things to her husband, James Belushi I think “It’s a chest wound! It hurts! Don’t you understand that?” Things like that. I look forward to hearing your reports of it if you find it (I don’t know how easy it will be to find.) This work is a ‘cult style film’, but I think did not really find a cult following. When it came out in 1993, it was literally palpable, the critics were right to praise it in this case. Angie goes with ‘addictive tapes’ to buy info from one of her blinded victims, her ex-lover, in a low theater in the Wilderzone. She promises him more of them. She utters overtly racist remarks about one of the tape salesmen.
Okay, sorry, a flood of these images is coming back, I found them so much more imaginative in terms of that thing that always impresses me about any work: ‘How the fuck did they think of that?’ Some of those odd images were Wagner’s, if not most. Last night I had this image of Josie by her pool (and there is a network of pools that the two little boys discover how to get through, it may be sewer system, hard to remember), and there’s this amazing sense of ‘murder-paedophilia’, because Josie’s discarded and disowned grandson has become friends with the legitimate one, and he tells him ‘your grandmother will kill you’, so you get these predatory creatures almost like out of mythology.
Of course, I have no idea how original this will seem to you. What I like is that it was shown with almost everyone watching it, and then most of them forgot about it and it was rarely, if ever, shown again, at least it wasn’t like a cult film usually would be.
And Josie’s murder of her daughter is shown on her own television channel! I can’t stop, I see. Of course, that necessitates another murder once it’s publicized. Campy things include Josie being hauled in a wheelchair from a hospital to a limousine after a facelift (lol).
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The links: In the Loop stars Capaldi; Kafka’s Wonderful Life is directed by Capaldi and stars Richard E. Grant; Withnail stars Grant. The Wonderful Life short can be found on Youtube: part one is here.
I finished reading The Postman Always Rings Twice today — 100 tightly crafted, action-packed pages. From page 2:
“Except for the shape, she really wasn’t any raving beauty, but she had a sulky look to her, and her lips stuck out in a way that made me want to mash them in for her.”
Reed seemed a fine enough school; Portland, a cozy and unaggressive city with good food reasonably priced. Now we’re off to see my father in South Carolina for a week. I’m currently reading A Rebours by Huysmans, after which I may return to Cain for Mildred Pierce.
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Quantity, after reading your last comment, I found Wild Palms on Amazon quite easily and also for a bargain price. I assume that there was only one series as I can’t find any mention of a second one, even on imdb. Anyway, I look forward to watching it.
I’ll also check out FK’s It’s a Wonderful Life, John. Thanks for the link.
The quote from The Postman Always Rings Twice is amazing. Another book to my long list to read!
I have read A Rebours and La-Bas. Huysmans is a very amusing writer. The turtle always sticks in my mind from A Rebours. It’s a wonderful metaphor for the kind of living death that occurs in an overly aethetisied life. The body traduced by objectivication etc. Nothing is quite right, and one becomes disabled, immovable.
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I hope it does’t disappoint. That high chair, by the way, is not a baby’s high chair, but rather a specially designed one meant to look as pretentious as possible. I always think of the Angie Dickinson character as a dragonfly who may not always have been Satanic, but did succeed in completely forgetting that there has ever been any logical alternative. I had heard of that ‘very-near-sci-fi’ was modish at the time, but haven’t heard much of it myself. I found it far more effective than the stuff 50 years down the line, because you could easily imagine living up to that point, and 2007 was strangely outstanding a year for me, but I don’t think it had anything to do with ‘Wild Palms’.
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“It’s a wonderful metaphor for the kind of living death that occurs in an overly aethetisied life. The body traduced by objectivication etc. Nothing is quite right, and one becomes disabled, immovable.”
That has a whiff of the second-hand to it, because the ‘aestheticized life’ or ‘overly aestheticized life’, obviously more still, are always written up to be decried, ridiculed. They are always discussed, as when Deleuze talks about ‘aestheticizing society’ or ‘life’ or ‘the world’ in the ‘Proust and Signs’ book. It seems to always refer to popinjays, Oscar Wildes, various Edwardian exquisites like Ronald Firbank and is usually some fag-git rather than a wimmern who’s doing it (nobody thinks Lesb’ans have tended to do the superficial version of this, even if didn’t know the conflicts that awaited it them).
It’s not any different from any other state in which ‘there is always something wrong’, because there is no human state in which ‘there is not always something wrong’. I live what many would call an ‘aestheticized life’, but maybe it’s because I can. But THAT form is not even what’s important, and I doubt that it’s a pre-requisite to an idea of ‘aesthetic’ which does at least extend from that externalized one, and would obviously be available to anyone with the intelligence to see how to do it (including Lesb’ans.)
It’s like this. It goes both ways.
1) You could have an ‘overly aestheticized’ house nut, who is worried about every square inch of wood and paint and cabinet, but is a fat slob with a lot of money and who is not ‘overly aestheticized physically’ to say the least. He’s not going to have a ‘body traduced by objectivation’, nor really any kind that is designed to catch a special fish of even the more middling variety.
There are also clotheshorse men and women who spend most of their ‘body aesthetic’ on their apparel, and don’t even bother much with the body itself.
Of course, there are men and women who do nothing but cosmetic surgery, gymming, and the rest, and who really DO continue to find something wrong with the image as it is. There’s a book called ‘The Adonis Complex’ by a jungian (can’t remember the name offhand) which goes into the complexes that many of today’s younger men have no matter how much they work out. No matter how grotesque the muscles get, they look in the mirror and still see the ‘110-lb. weakling’.
Personally, I’ve been through some of these stages without ever getting morbidly involved in them to the point where I didn’t realize that their use was over (and all of them can be temporarily useful means of moving toward perfection, although the trick is that the perfection is never something you attain in such a specific way that you can thus sit by and say ‘There. Now THAT’s IT. Aren’t I perfect?’
I simply don’t exclude those external aestheticizations because they can, on occasion, lead to an aesthetics that is not so insular. This probably is found more often in the artistic domains than the philosophical and theoretical, not sure about that, it wouldn’t always be. But eventually, all experience can be included in a kind of aesthetic, if it’s not so insular. Although it’s true that once you allow for the existence of others to refuse certain aesthetic standards, you’ve already gone beyond that superficial rigidity that really doesn’t even seem aesthetic after awhile–those overly neat rigidities relax and become more at ease, and that’s more attractive than the one who is always fussing with every little thing about his appearance.
2) So that things like money matters, clearing up household problems, editing manuscripts, fixing sentences, dissolving problems between and among people, just to begin are, to me, all aesthetic matters as well. But these are usually not given that term, and the reason they are not is the desire to be homophobic usually, to talk about ‘too much grooming’, etc., too much gymming, and a self-conscious appearance physically. The point is, if somebody gets stuck in that, it’s not that big a deal, but there’s ALWAYS something wrong. I had a video that took me years to get from the library, it was in storage for about a year, librarians were overtly rude when I would ask about it, I almost began to think they were purposely doing it to annoy me, after all, I did make a semi-pass at the head librarian 9 years ago, and he has never forgiven me for not pursuing it! Yes, he didn’t necessarily ‘want me’, but he didn’t like it that I could first be very aggressive and then pull back totally, once I found out he was a very fussy, pedantic, and soprano librarian type who believed in ‘the rules’ to a fault, and talked about them (although my de-aestheticization of attraction was helped when he gained weight from eating huge bags of Fritos while on the job–that’ll do it every time with me, I do NOT care for fat). So yesterday, it was this bliss of having this 1952 NBC television show, it finally came in, even after that selfsame librarian ran even more interference and tried to beyond with his subalterns so I’d lose my temper and finally be ‘arrestable’ (I just said ‘who cares?’ and left, then it came in). BUT…my fucking remote wouldn’t work properly, even though my aesthetically purchased Size AA batteries were fresh and then sometimes it would work. It wasn’t that I was too lazy to get up and manually operate the TV set, it was that that was not part of ‘the idyll’. And it still wouldn’t–except sporadically, which was even more maddening. And then, someone I’m close to keeps forgetting things to the point that I am now often angry at him, even though his mind may be going. Several people constantly refuse to call when they say they’re going to, NO MATTER WHAT. This isn’t very aesthetic to me, but I do expect shit to happen. I had to make a tray for one of my AC’s because it leaked down to the girl below me, staining her curtain and walls. I began to panic in this heat wave, and tons of editing to do write now.
I think, in other words. the ‘overly aestheticized life’ is often singled out as something which is wrongly condemned, except in its most extreme forms, like Joan Rivers and Michael jackson’s cosmetic surgery, which, after Dorian Gray, ends up ruining their looks totally, although hell, maybe they think the ‘nose-job look’ is cute or even Pekinese. And the serious constant-gym boys, esp. often have extreme eating disorders, troughing whole gallons of ice cream at a time once they go out of control.
Okay, here’s another way of saying it: It’s the difference between perfection and perfectionism. Perfection could refer to anything, including things that wouldn’t normally be referred to as aesthetic, but they, by all rights, COULD be, even if not most esseentially. Perfectionism is related to classical Freudianisms and all that rudimentary talk of ‘anal-retentive’, and this is all very good IF you know when to leave it off. It’s, in fact, easy to leave it off when you swing back in the other direction, although my personal versions of this aren’t as serious as the gymmer whose desire to be ‘perfectly aesthetic’ is 100% negated during the moments he’s eating ice cream straight out of the carton. I did, however, almost leave out certain details on two projects this week which meant I was relaxing a bit too much, but I caught them just in time. So it’s natural, after the constraints of ‘perfectionism’, to then become sloppy as a kind of reaction, but the point is obviously to get some kind of balance when you keep the perfectionism delimited so that it’s manageable. Perfection is obviously always striven for in every single domain and field, and is infinitely largely than perfectionism, which can sometimes be no more than just microscopic, which is fine if it’s not so twisted that it’s barren and worthless. And wouldn’t perfection by never permanent, but certainly attainable at moments, and without obvious effort? Don’t you recognize perfection after it’s happened, and without contriving it? It can happen between two people when they communicate, and this has little to do with the over-fastidiousness that is usually termed the ‘overly aestheticized life’. But if it was PERFECT, then was it not also aesthetic?
You probably wonder why I’d go on and on about something like this. And I think it’s the fault of the insiders and the outside observers as well. The stereotyped ‘exquisites’ are indeed limited if they don’t use their clever artifices to go further, but the outsiders may, in fact, be jealous of some of those seemingly superficial refinements, which are not going to all be bad.
But an overly aestheticized life wouldn’t always be about ‘the body’, would it? It could be anything one was obsessed by, something where the details were more important AT ALL TIMES than anything else. To give them credit, people like Deleuze are closer to perfection than the ‘aestheticizers’ they’re criticizing and saying that ‘you can’t aestheticize society’, which is half-true. Of course you can do it, but it may not be enough. That’s the problem with the compulsive aestheticizer, is that it’s ‘never enough’. But I definitely think it happens not just in all fields of endeavour, but just in daily life: A person may wish to walk gracefully, and can learn how to do it, maybe, till it becomes natural. A professional dancer usually walks gracefully without even thinking about it, due to the training, and it’s nothing more than an afterthought.
I’m sure you were referring to the ‘over-aestheticizing’ of certain modes, though. But I still think a certain amount of this makes things perhaps ‘less likely to always be something wrong’ than the overt slob, where things are going wrong all the time, but he just doesn’t notice it, or ‘he ain’t gotta prob-limm wid it’. Your remark stimulated me to write all this, because I do remember certain remarks in ‘Proust and Signs’, about this ‘aestheticizing of society’. Deleuze himself had natural beauty, which you’re probably not really supposed to say about serious philosophers, but he was in a position to take it for granted, and may have even been slobbish in certain ways. But it was probably always ‘aesthetic slobbishness’. I rather doubt he’d have known how to do unconscious paltry slobbishness. He just knew that ‘becoming-horse’ was closer to perfection than going out to buy Armani suits (lol).
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Oh yes, knew I’d forgotten something. Remember we were all here–you, John and me–talking about Harman’s ‘thesis’ and objectivation of Levi’s daughter, and Levi himself seemed to be quite amenable to talking about his daughter as some sort of OOO-related something or other. That’s a form of over-aestheticization, wouldn’t you say? And following it up with ‘Take that, relationists!’ And doesn’t this sound juvenile? Because it even seems as thought the anti-relationism is a vaguely aesthetic project, given that anti-relationism would have to include the ‘failure to relate’, wouldn’t it? I don’t see how it couldn’t. And you have to EXPERIENCE the failure to relate, which is a form of pain, and that had clearly not been done by that speaker. He was talking about these matters as forms of enjoyment, of jouissance, of effete bullshit, because say, he was even right about anti-relationism, say he accepted it as the ‘secret of the secret’ as in the tedious, but profound piece of Derrida, he should show at least some sadness about this ‘failure to relate’ that he’s so convinced of. I don’t think one can always be in a conscious state of relationship, and do not agree with Derrida’s total negativity about everything (as I see it, he wants the secret and the knowledge that there are always unknown secret to be the ONLY reality, and my impression, although I’m being a bit sloppy here, because I don’t have Lyotard’s Libidinal Economy handy, and am not sure where I’d find what I need anyway, is that Lyotard doesn’t demand this. And I don’t think it’s because Derrida had discovered the truth of the ‘essential sadness of the secret’, so much as that that is the part HE liked best. Oh well, naturally I’m going to like Libidinal Economy better than anything of JD.)
But this point is, even if Derrida’s proclamation about ‘truths of the secret’ are really mainly his absolute worship of sadness, unhappiness and death, Harman’s ‘anti-relationism’ doesn’t even seem to have managed to get to the ‘sad part’ yet, it’s just like Uncle Toby’s hobbyhorse or something in Tristram Shandy. just freeze-dried and academic in the most academic sense. Academic all the way down the line and all the way up the arse.
And, to top all of that, somebody at mikhail’s talking about Harman ‘being your father figure’. Jesus, I didn’t even know such an idea could occur to someone! I know it wasn’t Mikhail, who has no truck with Harman. And then Dejan told John with the ‘haircut post’ that his hirsute photo showed his desire to be like some authoritative scholarly sort like Harman, or something like that.
I like to bring this full circle: the desire to imitate Graham Harman’s mien and demeanour, since so obviously everybody’s father figure, is surely a fate worse than the most superficially over-aestheticized life! But maybe I’m just out of fashion: The ‘Harman-Father Look’ may well be the ultimate Kiss of Chic for metrosexuals the world over, and I just haven’t been reading the right rags…
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Why’d you launch into that Joan Rivers anti-rant at Missus’s when I saw the trailer for the Rivers docu at DOT PALIN and it seemed to have that same great intensity,of her autobiography? I think she’s quite good and fun and even funny and I like the way she’s come to terms with her botox mummification as well.
There is a wider anti-phallic conspiracy taking place right now as we speak,
http://larvalsubjects.wordpress.com/2010/08/03/unit-operations/,
where the Narcissistic Cat says: ” In short, our theoretical framework tends to be one massive metaphor for fucking and the sexual relationship. Of course, it’s always a fucking where the men are on top in the form of an active form inseminating a passive matter. And again, that active form can be the signifier, signs, economics, the social, form, categories, reason, etc. What’s important for masculinist ontology is that form always be straight and one. I’ll leave it to the reader to make the appropriate phallic jokes here”
(I have to tell the cat that I tried dick-to-dick rubbing and mutual masturbation, but it just doesn’t replace the missionary in any substantial way.)
The conspiracy is no doubt to some extent organized by the Temptress (who is ironically by confession attracted to the largest French objet phallique – the Eiffel tower in Paris), but the Cobra, Analyte, Dominique, Agnetha and Nymphomania contribute greatly as well.
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That is PURE crap, Dejan, and you wonder why I won’t tell you anything important anymore? That last paragraph is inexcusable, and your usual attempts to produce divisiveness in people. The fact is WHOEVER that lafayette is at your bleug, I am NOT interested. The only conspiracy I’m interested in is the one that has happened at YOUR bleug and under YOUR auspices. Now, you can make all the fucking jokes you want about everybody in the world, but I KNOW that traxus is not involved in any of your conspiracies, nor is Arpege. That’s enough for me. Whether Dominic and Anodyne are is not something I’m sure of, I’ll admit that. If I were the paranoid person you have accused me of being, I would think traxus and Arpege and everybody else in the bleugs were involved, but I know they weren’t. I know ‘NB’ has something to do with it, but I don’t care. I wish he weren’t so nervous and would just come clean, but in the mean time, he seems like a smart enough fellow and has decent manners while wanting to remain hidden. John’s not trustworthy either, as I’ve said, but in his mind, he’s probably trying to be ‘fair’ (he doesn’t realize how overrated this ‘fairness’ is.) There were TONS of people involved in that conspiracy against me, that is NOT paranoia. I know they were, and I don’t care. I like traxus and Arpege, they’re the only ones that see me as a person. Arpege and I had our difficulties, but we’re not the grudge-holding sort. As for the others involved, I am not really angry at them, I just don’t consider them friends. If they want to be at least reasonably social, they have my email address. Once in a while I even write a ditty at ‘cr’ of AWP, but do you think that means I think of him as someone I’m friendly with? You’re just obnoxious.
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Don’t you remember when you said that you most certainly did NOT care about me ‘as a person’, that you just kept me around as a ‘freak show’. And you expect a reward for that? You want me to reserve for you a copy of the book? Honey, you can order it from Christian’s publishing house just like the rest. Traxus gets one free copy, and even John most likely, because he was so attentive to our 2nd book, and actually bought it as well. Yes, TWO FREE COPIES to bleugers is it. There’s lots of supporting roles for the bleugers in the first two chapters of the book, so they may want to shell out to find out. Naturally, lafayette gets some press, since he contributed to the book, and decided to remain anonymous. We are not concerned about this any more, I thought we might just call him ‘Satan’s Butterfly’.
You really oughtn’t to be chasing me around the bleugs anymore the way you always do, but you have no idea how to behave in society. It really is startling how you think a little flattery and I’ll run right back to that infested bleug of yours, which always is full of bile from lafayette. And your bullshit about ‘I feel uncomfortable even talking about it, as he’s said very little about himself personally…’ well, if so, I WONDER WHY! Good riddance! GET MARRIED TO LAFAYETTE!
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Don’t you remember when you said that you most certainly did NOT care about me ‘as a person’, that you just kept me around as a ‘freak show’
God how can you be such a depthless queen. I was of course ironizing Mis’z very own attitude, which is that you can only be her friend if you’re a refugee, a black WAMMAN, or a psychotic on medication. You may think whatever you want, but what she really thinks is that you’re a sad case in need of help. In fact, MOST PEOPLE in Mis’z environment are sad cases in need of help, this because she is so majestic, few people can follow her grandiosity and all of its meta-operatic levels. Other than that you also decorate the Bastion of Depravity with your queeny ways. Mis’z always needs something colorful on the wall to accompany the Haitian slave skins – minority group skin is ideal for her refined Communist tastes.
There were TONS of people involved in that conspiracy against me, that is NOT paranoia. I know they were, and I don’t care.
I’m not denying that – maybe yes, maybe not; you have to admit the boundary gets totally blurred when you mix it with film noir vamp. Besides that Nick Land crowd makes a living on conspiracies, that’s the whole idea of their coven. But Lafayette wasn’t one of ’em. I know this for sure because he only joined the parody after a while, having not even known you before he came to the Parody Center. And he came because he read my fights with Leninini, while he’s a staunch supporter of Serbia in all respects. That’s all there is to it. For the rest I only know that he’s a nice and curious fellow somewhere in England, apparently also suffering from some health problems because of which he’s frequently at home. And because he didn’t want to e-mail or share private info, I felt it inappropriate to push him into doing so.
It’s horrible that you designate Eloise, a woman of utmost integrity, as unreliable. Eloise soaked in so much of our shit, held a candle to all of our marriages and divorces, that I’m surprised she didn’t transform into an emotional oil spill. But Eloise is also a grown-up woman so I’ll let HER decide whether this requires punishment.
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I didn’t say anything about John he doesn’t already know. He let ‘NB’ and me fight it out here, and now we have this cordial, formal sort of thing, in which he always seems like somebody I’ve talked to before, but really all of you bleugers seem to think it doesn’t matter who the individual is, maybe that’s why you all hate me and admire me at the same time. NB likes knowing who I am without my knowing for sure who he is, or maybe not knowing at all (since it begins to not matter when there’s lots of hot ass on the street, and there is). This is the same with lafayetc, no matter what you say about him–why should that matter? He liked ‘playacting Nick Land’ for as many months as he could do it, which is just as bad faith as Nick himself reading the threads and refusing to clear it up himself. They’re both the same level of odium, even if in different locales. lafayette wouldn’t have ‘enacted Nick Land’ had he not been given permission to, because these cyber-idiots all have some fear of him, given that he made of himself this ‘cult figure’ which is sort of lovecraftian and not up there with say, even, Reese Witherspoon, much less Babs. They’re all the same, and that goes for ‘NB’ too, who surely thinks I got my just deserts. But only up to a point. None of them ever took their responsibilities in the matter.
You say what you want about Arpege, after all she’s a wimmernz, and is supposed to be just fun mainly, and she is. Now, when it comes down to having any real guts all the way, ONLY traxus, no matter how much you ridicule him. He is the only one who actually likes me. I don’t know quite why, but he’s a nice young man, and I wish wasn’t str8, but most of my friends are str8.
John tries to be ‘everybody’s friend’ and there’s no reason why he should be my friend more than ‘NB’s. But I did find out about the RM/DVeal connection, and that was useful. I’m sure NB is one of these, or close to them. Or maybe they just don’t have very inimitable personal styles. NB writes like Robin. However, I don’t know if it would do any good to find out he IS Robin, because he’s got to publish Nick’s collection of writings this year, and anyway, you were totally involved in allowing all the conspiracy, you’re just trying to capitalize now.
Further, you pretended not to have my address so you could SEND ME MORE DVD’S?????? HELLLOOOOOO???? YOU send somebody DVD’s???? Well, you have my Alabama address, just go ahead and send them there, I’m sure my Alabama family will LOVE the babyfucking movies you praise so, and I notice ‘lafayette’ always lies to you just to humour you. He didn’t ‘do the parody’, and you’ve convinced me of nothing. He was excited by the way he had temporarily charmed me, and how he is absolutely NOTHING to me anymore, and that goes for Nick Land too. These ghoulish cyber-people are nothing.
Anyway, even thought John is naive and doesn’t like worldly types, he’s smart and will get the one other free copy of the new book. Traxus actually contributed, so obviously would get one. Arpege will wish to purchase it, of course, and if she doesn’t, I won’t hold it against her. But she knows it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to send her more books. There’s a good bit of discussion about the insemination of the book with Robin, and also about Nick, although ‘lafayette’ wrote the snippets.
It’s interesting you always think ‘if I could just get him to come back there’, we could REALLY skewer him this time. The only good thing to come out of this (aside from the reduced-font writing examples of internet-freakdom written by lafayetc/desiree disgusto) was that I really had for some reason thought Nick Land was somebody really important. I give him credit for saying that I ‘Overestimated him’ (in emails), and about that he was 100% right. I can see that that would be uncomfortable, especially since he cultivated flattery of every kind in the book, and then when someone does tell him how wonderful he is, he finds out that ‘oh my god, I’m really NOT sew greyt, after all’, just some dimestore cult figure who wrote purple prose about Bataille. Just coarse and common. So I did him a service by stripping of his ‘endless aging cult figure’ posturing. hyperstition was this impotent thing.
But you’re not innocent in any way, so you can take your dvd’s and shove them, Dejan. I do NOT want them.
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“But Lafayette wasn’t one of ‘em. I know this for sure because he only joined the parody after a while, having not even known you before he came to the Parody Center.’
He most certainly was, of course, because he was always there when all of the others were, and he was always opposed to me. He was always aware of Nick Land and everything about him. Who he actually is I no longer care, because I find Nick Land quite as undistinguished as he insisted I do. Quite a lesson I taught him to: you make of yourself a dimestore cult figure, then wonder why somebody finds it impressive after all, like a criminal who wants to get caught. He’d say in emails ‘you’re overestimating me again’, and was he ever right. I’m very good at being momentarily seduced by these cinematic, vaporous things and then trashing them once I find there’s nothing behind them. I romanticized him, to be sure, but he also advertised himself as ‘only I am romantic, that’s why you sing lullabyes to me’. There were times he thought he was ‘more with me’, but he couldn’t manage to stay up there with me, so when he’d fall, he’d try to pull me down with him. The worst by far was when I was in Los Angeles, and he (or several of them, they were signing in as Saint Nick J. Land and Rev. Landayetc) did nothing but try to insult. After I got back, he said that I had ‘cast him out of Paradise during the Stompanato photo moment’ of Nov. with you and Northanger, because I just ‘went ahead and started without him’. He wanted to be the ‘S’ and stimulate me, make me dependent on him. So then after I got back he even pointed out to me that he had noted this moment in which he had ‘been cast out’. But he wouldn’t have been at that point still. He could easily still have redeemed himself and been a human being, but that was too much to ask. In fact, being asked to email and clear all this up (which Nick Land could have done, given that he read the links to CPC I sent him, then just denied everything, but he wouldn’t go on your bleug and clear it up, he was part of it, obviously) was sometning he considered to be ‘asking him to eat this’. But all this the ‘lafayette’ cooperated with. At several points, the ‘Hyacinth’ and the ‘lafayette’ were there at the same time ‘conversing’, it was clearly the same person.
YOU probably are lying about this, and know about it, but think, if we could just get Patrick back, then we could REALLY skewer him. But I won’t let you, at least not willingly. After Xmas, as I said, he wrote that I had ‘cast him out of paradise’, althogh his attempts to ruin my trip all the way to the end were unremitting, they were all ugly. They did make possible the new writing nd the Beverly Hills trips that made those come into being. But that was not his intention, the intention was to hurt and destroy. This is why I know ‘neither’ of these has any humanity. All that shit written when I was in CA was written by the same person, and you never cared. You were one of them. And even though there was still time after CA for him to redeem himself, he started talking about ‘we had Hadrian wired’, and I think he may well have talked to Hadrian, an insipid hustler on meth. Later, on the bleug, he signed in as ‘Old Nick’ and said ‘Okay, I’m sorry I said we wired Hadrian, it was just a joke’, but the real Nick Land would neither confirm nor deny this. The spouse wouldn’t answer the email, and so yes, it was interesting the way I can respond to these vaporous cinematic things and then trash them if there’s only a vacuous core. Who needs it? And I have gotten rid of it. There isn’t really anything to talk about. The point was to KILL, because I wouldn’t JOIN. Not that they would have ‘accepted me’, but that I ‘should have wanted to join’. But I wouldn’t, so the only interest anyone ever had (except traxus and maybe John to a degree) was in sadistic thrills. That goes for you too. But it didn’t work, you see. Even the ‘scarring’ John thought occurred didn’t stick. And it was all effected by refusing to ever write on your bleug while you keep ‘lafayette’. Whether or not he’s the real Nick Land or just somebody else, he’s malicious and is NOT nice, hates me and everything he sees in me. and I hate him too. So fuck you both.
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So, to conclude, it was that day in November that he seemed to note that I really had ‘stolen his fire’, he no longer had the famed charisma. That wasn’t my intention at all, I just wasn’t going to be manipulated. Anyway, I wrote he thought sending me an email was not ‘telling him to eat this’, as I said above, but ‘telling him to eat shit’. So now he’s eating humble pie, because I’ll do anything to stay away from him, and that’s why there’d be no point in talking to Robin again. This is much more corrosive than you know, because you don’t go back that far, it started maybe a year and a half. But why some little squabble between me and Robin should have started an epic saga like this is beyond me. I guess that’s what CCRU thinks life IS (Cyber culture Research Unit, a spurious institution if I ever heard of one).
They also did nothing but say ‘it’ll never get published, that book’ and ‘more loathsome memoirs’. And in perceiving these two who were most involved with that part, Arpege was quite indispensible, in this she could do even a bit more than traxus did, although he was there during this disgusting Martin/Joxter things, which were Robin and Damian (Sphaleotas.) Maybe one’s ‘cultural orientation’ sometimes really is the ruling factor in a relationship, I do remember when Robin rejected the original first chapter (which I reread the other night, and it’s superlative) because ‘I don’t understand it, I know nothing of classical music or dance’…etc., so they go and do the Lovecraftian horror coven. They can have it. And you’ve got more of them than you are willing to admit, Dejan, they manipulate you, but then, you’ve asked for it, haven’t you?
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Well at least the text sounds like it’s been written by a more self-empowered vamp bitch, say Barbara Stanwycke instead of Lana. It’s cooler and better designed to lure the reader into a network of selfishness & indecent passions. It has a new kind of a narrative intricacy and complexity, as though influenced by CHINATOWN or LA CONFIDENTIAL.
The tastelessness of the proposition that I could ever sexually desire a hauntology/objectology Ph.D (and I never believed a word you said about Nick Land being handsome) is worthy of Frances Farmer!!! And ALL THIS after I honestly told you that I find your noble sauvage poses at the window sill hot’n’horny!
(True, I might have deserved it, given my continued attraction to the Narcissistic Cat; but the Cat as you know is an adorable bear who accidentally found himself in the company of the vampires)
How do you imagine this situation, me in some worker’s Gothic/post-industrial suburb of London reading Meilassoux and making love to Graham Harman during the lunchbreak at the BEING AND BLAWGING conference… are you NUTS? I like horror films, but I don’t let ghosts or half-livin’ corpses between me legs!
It’s interesting you always think ‘if I could just get him to come back there’, we could REALLY skewer him this time.
Well I’ll admit that I feel a lot like Midge after Scottie’s melancholic breakdown, painting his obsessions with a forlorn and rather bottomly face. But there’s also the plain fact that the Parody Center hasn’t been the same without you, regardless of the fact that the clicks go on automatic pilot by now.
Further, you pretended not to have my address so you could SEND ME MORE DVD’S??????
Actually, I found the address in the old mail, so I’ll send it (to New York this time). It’s just that given your track record with new technology I’m not sure whether you’ll electrocute your own anus trying to play the DVD, so BE CAREFUL OK. It´ll be interesting to discuss A SERBIAN FILM together with Eloise.
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“And because he didn’t want to e-mail or share private info, I felt it inappropriate to push him into doing so.”
Again, I can’t IMAGINE why lafayetc didn’t want to ‘share’ this with you…he must be thrilled that you noted his ‘health problems that kept him at home’ on here. You’re all sweetness and light, aren’t you…So was it really IBS that kept him at home, and made him read ‘Gravity’s Rainbow’ again? Remember that’s the one he liked to talk about because it has the coprophagy section with that girl on the motorcycle, etc….
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must be thrilled that you noted his ‘health problems that kept him at home’
no that info he volunteered, he mentions being or the dole, and having medical assistance from time to time. but what i meant is he didn’t want to e-mail privately so i didn’t want to poke and prod.
i think he found your feigned lunacy interesting and this is why he started role playing, but he has no real connections with the world of nick land, so that whole part you invented yourself for your ”triple indemnity” scenario.
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‘but he has no real connections with the world of nick land’
It is indisputably true that you do not know this. But it makes it all the easier never to write at your bleug. Arpege is indeed more majestic and nicer too. She agreed with me that you were wrong to say that she thought I was ‘a sad case’. I HATE YOU AND LAFAYETTE!
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You may tell lafayette that I PROMISE to return to CPC if she emails me with all her personal details.
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I especially was moved at how she knew all the Hyperstition threads by heart, you know. That’s a hobby horse if I ever heard of one.
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You say what you want about Arpege, after all she’s a wimmernz, and is supposed to be just fun mainly, and she is.
You sound different when you say that. Calm and tranquil. Not much bile. Just like Malcolm McDowell in CLOCKWORK ORANGE after he’s been to the Party reprogramming session. I hope the wamynz at least leave you with an erection, darling. I could come and visit you, bring you Belgian chocolate and the like, chit chat, like the lover of the Irish guy in THE CRYING GAME.
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Well, yes, and along the lines of what you used to say about Jodi as ‘mother figure’, Arpege is more like ‘big sister’, even though she’s probably about 15 years younger. I called my real sister today, that helped. Arpege is like that, I don’t mind if she’s into Marxism to a degree that I never imagined possible. So it’s probably better this way, I tend to erase all my remarks I write over there, because I don’t know how to discuss those hot-shit intellectual things with her and the others. John could, but doesn’t care to, at least over there.
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Well, yes, and along the lines of what you used to say about Jodi as ‘mother figure’
You took those tits away from me, she got upset over DOT PALIN, you corrupted me and used me, and even verbally harrassed me, in quite overt sexual tones, and then you even took Analyte, who briefly thought that she could put me in her lesbian brothel, but would have kept some kind of a friendship if you didn’t arrive and COLONIZE everything with your overbearing ballerina ego. She was supposed to be MY big sister, since you already had the Asperger. You even thought you could take Eloise away from me, my good American mother, but I have a special bond with Eloise that noone can destroy. You spoiled everything and now you’re complaining that you’re the victim, the nexus of a vast international conspirancy against your self-importance. But probably the most horrible thing about all this is that if you weren’t as EVIL as you are, I wouldn’t find you attractive at all!!!
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I still love ‘I thought you were better than that, Patrick’, meaning ‘I knew Dejan wasn’t, of course’. I do agree that Miss B. is a ‘bear’, though, and does seem trapped in a mess of half-worldly academic vampires, all unattractive (except Mikhail, who has always had an unerring cool). That’s why she’s succumbing to using words like ‘fucking’ now.
You’re just trying to flatter me again about my looks, which are indeed distinguished, of course. I’m sure it pissed Dominic off, as he doubts he’ll have that much heat when he’s this age….hee hee….but it’s not working, because I was always victimized by lafayetc, whom you do know who is. It hasn’t changed. John helped some (and it was hard on him), and Arpege and traxus and northanger did the rest. You were enjoying the way I didn’t mind that people saw that I took a person seriously, yes, someone who even did nothing but insult me every time he seduced me again, with things like ‘all you get is your sickly Paramount ending’, until finally he realized that I just fight my wars very slowly and with constant vigilance to the Grand Line. He didn’t, and was split and splintered into a thousand pieces, just like poetpiet says of the internet, but I just wrote on the internet, I didn’t ever believe in it. But it’s what happened after I stopped telling things on the internet that is important, and I just don’t, because I know that you and lafayetc PLUS (whoever else the anoniems are/were) want to know about this so you can destroy them. Arpege is different that way, you see. She wants to go to the Pierre too. So you can take that box of Belgian chocolates and shove it.
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“Analyte, who briefly thought that she could put me in her lesbian brothel,”
It does appear to be that sometimes, you know. Esp. since she thinks that ‘bisexuality’ means that the homosexual part is somehow closed off by the fact that the equally nonexistent heterosexual part is also closed by the nonexistent Lesb’an part. Still, BY FAR the funniest thing I’ve seen on the bleugs in ages is how chivalrous Arpege is to her advances, while being totally bewildered about what techniques she ought to employ. Who ever thought Arpege would be caught in an innocent posture? She even told me today about having gone to a goddam ashram, that’s an image so funny I’m still laughing. Had to go off the premises to smoke twice, and did go to a nice resto the minute she got out of there. When I got out of my one ashram prison experience, I came back to New York and made everybody miserable for a long time.
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Esp. since she thinks that ‘bisexuality’ means that the homosexual part is somehow closed off by the fact that the equally nonexistent heterosexual part is also closed by the nonexistent Lesb’an part.
It’s much worse than that, she’s basically straight and she’s got a boyfriend with a big dick, but she engages in all this heavy dialogue on ”progressive issues” with gay people or men with a small dick or men with a big clit, like Arpege. However if you look closely everybody ELSE is denied the pleasure of having andOR receiving a big dick, except Analyte herself, who may partake of it off-handedly, as if it didn’t matter, as if she wasn’t elitarian to the bone, as if it was PURE ACCIDENT mind you that her boyfriend is endowed and she would also just as likely date a small dick, because you know ”it’s not about size, it’s about technique”. I totally hate that Diane Keaton shtick, pretending that one actually enjoys fucking Woody Alleen for his looks and not for his brains, or money, or status. Especially when she puts on that Morticia Addams costume, which is always popular with the intellectual pseudo-elites due to its supposedly ”meta-black humor”. Like, I’m not Hot as Hell, I’m a depressed witch.
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She just told you that about her boyfriend’s dick, most bleugers are not noted for their scrupulous honesty, and she would want to have all bases covered.
“However if you look closely everybody ELSE is denied the pleasure of having andOR receiving a big dick,”
No, I hadn’t noticed. She’s not vicious that way personally, just when she starts doing the intense theory shtick. She’s very clever, but her kind of unsentimental toughness if more to tastes of fems like you. You’ve enjoyed the punishments she’s meted out to you, and you have richly deserved them. She does it very sledgehammery, unlike Arpege, who could probably scream like Tuesday Weld if she got caught in a downpour while in furs.
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She’s very clever, but her kind of unsentimental toughness if more to tastes of fems like you.
To the contrary, that was the frustrating part, she cast me in the sissy bottom role without at all realizing the fulness of my Selwyn-style splitting. She thinks that it’s the TOP who is in control, you see. But this only happened because she’s such a spitting image of Laura Ellena Haring, and it is only because of this that I never humiliated her as hard as I could have.
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I just saw Dominic’s remarkable Twitters about Gestalt just now. They’re in reverse order, as I can’t be bothered to fix that, but ‘not intrinsically split, just partially actualized’ is far more therapeutic just in the reading of these snippets than all of the Theater of Cruelty that you and your vicious bottom correspondents used against me (never again):
The basic goal of Gestalt Therapy is to unbind energies that are bound in unfinished Gestalts, freeing them for deployment in spontaneity
6:45 AM Aug 5th via choqoK .Every “impasse” is in principle surmountable: the foregrounded situation closes, the organism recovers and can re-utilise its energies
6:32 AM Aug 5th via choqoK .”impasses” arise purely because of the organism’s dependency on, and ongoing negotiation with, its environment
6:27 AM Aug 5th via choqoK .The underlying assumption about the organism in Gestalt therapy is that it is not intrinsically “split”, just partially actualised
6:25 AM Aug 5th via choqoK ….of continuous (and unending) “integration”.
5:56 AM Aug 5th via choqoK ….and are oriented towards future closure or resolution. Therapeutic attention traverses them in series, in a process…
5:55 AM Aug 5th via choqoK .Temporally, the organism is embedded in a mesh of overlapping frames – “situations” – which bear traces of the past…
5:50 AM Aug 5th via choqoK .Gestalt therapy is like a sort of weird admixture of Husserl and Scientology
5:47 AM Aug 5th via choqoK
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You used always to compare me to Laura Elena Haring as well. But you see, lafayetc is your ace-in-the-hole to keep your ‘split’, or whatever you enjoy calling your illusion. Or maybe he’s mine. I’ve noticed that I’ve really made great strides in all directions since I only visit the CPC to look at it the way the Deneuve character IN THE BOOK visits her coffined Susan Sarandon character (in the movie Deneuve is killed, but in the book she lives forever, and visits the Sarandon character frequently and affectionately but vows never to let her out again.) You see, you find me attractive because you find me evil, I find neither you nor lafayetc at all attractive not that I KNOW that you’re evil. THROUGH and THROUGH, and that you two have a blood pact that is stronger than any two bleugers have. It’s all arranged carefully and disgustingly.
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find neither you nor lafayetc at all attractive not that I KNOW that you’re evil.
should be ‘now that I KNOW you’re evil’.
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She visits her again and again of course because her Eternal Narcissism couldn’t exist without the bottom’s continued support. It’s horrible, but in another way it’s total ecstasy and true love.
But let me return to the point, since you refuse to cooperate I think the best thing to do is to continue the ”Bastion of Depravity” series. In the next episode, Butchness’s Phallus is growing uncontrollably and threatening to choke the poor ballerina by self-deepthroating. Butchness keeps calling Rue Turbigo, but Kamarad Leninini is screaming so hard while he’s forced to eat Black Femidom’s unwashed ass, that nobody hears her. Meanwhile, Mis’z is teaching Analyte how to piss in Childie’s mouth long-distance: a useful preventive humiliation technique for those situations when the male oppressor is approaching and still within safe distance. At one point Analyte gets a horny and asks Liberal Woggia to unlock the chastity belt that Mis’z installed in the last episode as a safety measure, but Woggia breaks the key and Analyte is trapped inside her own chastity.
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John–when you get back–I can’t for the life of me remember where we were discussing the old bromides about money, but this is very good, and I’ve been thinking about some versions of this, which do lead to that idea of ‘qualitative money’ itself. I was pleased that I thought of the term before I then read it–in Wm. Burroughs, of all places. And this goes along with ideas of aesthetics too: Money seems to be, at least in itself, hard to bring into the ‘aesthetic realm’. I think this is an important issue. And it’s not at all impossible to do it. It doesn’t have anything to do with the quantities of the amounts (in that they could be at any level of small to large, although I do tend to like to exclude quibbling about actual pennies, NOR do I like those jars that say ‘take a penny, give a penny’ because they literally mean NO MORE THAN THAT, actually, come to think of it, I think those have disappeared about 10 years ago), except that there are ‘better amounts’ than others. It requires some slowing down of time to work these amounts so that they become as much (and sometimes more) interesting than the various satisfactions they’re exchanged for.
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Poor Eloise what depravity she’ll find when she comes back!
The article optimistically focuses on the attempts of some consumers to curb their shopping enthousiasm as if that can change the structural necessity of consuming profusely in your KANTRI’s vulgarly excessive economy, i.e. the obvious fact that the economy will only suffer from these self-inflicted austerity measures. (Truly this is mentioned in the article, but very shyly) So it’s a bit like Oprah Winfrey’s chastisement – I admire that bitch for selling her bulimia to around 350 billion people. But something rings true about that story of ”experiences” being more attractive for consumption now because they leave memories, which objects don’t, or at least not with the same success. I can also identify with the idea that we idealize travel, though I would put it differently, I think we sort of ”direct” the travel, use cinematic editing, to isolate or put in close–ups the gratifying moments while editing out the farts and the vomits.
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Well, you know, your cheap flattery (plus the fake shit about ‘not finding Nick Land handsome’, when you’d referred to that goblinesque photo i linked, and you called ‘that venomously attractive Britishness’, when it sas useful to you) is very telling. Now, you see, of course, that people who do not even like each other personally at all, cf. ‘k-punk’ on some September discussion of Nick Land’s anthology that Teacher’s Pet is publishing called ‘Fagged Noumena’ or something like that, what ever that means, are meeting to be collegial about Land’s and BN’s work (something about Determined Negativism, all of it consolation prizes) and they are going to talk in a second floor room at Goldsmith’s for five hours about these two thrilling masterpieces. Of course, none of the Expo Tourguides by this Wickham-styled villain are included, because even these types recognize the ‘cheap soul’ in there. Oh well, better them than me. But I notice ‘lafaytette’ hardly ever writes on your bleug anymore. I can’t imagine why. And she’s hoping that fagged noumena will outshine my own culturalproduct, but that’s old news. China has been defeated, des;pite their bragadoccio. Really sad, you know. It was the adventurer I was uniquely capable of bringing out, and he fantasized about that, but he couldn’t do it like I can. That’s why the bleugers hate me, they chose the straight and narrow, and that includews Nick Land. You have only so much demographic when all you did as an ‘adventurer’ was various things involving drugs and raves in the 90s at universities in Angleterre.
You know, Dejan, the only interesting thing about you for ME at this opint (obviously I really don’t want your DVD’s, even though you’re much too cheap to send them even if I did) is that you prize ‘lafayette’ so much. It’s clearly lafayette more than you who wants me to return to CPC, and by now he knows that I don’t think he’s at all impressive. I loathe everything he stands for, because he’s vacsuous and stands for nothing, and has no guts. Maybe the Socialist doctring is really to champion people with no guts, but you know lafayette really IS somebody. That’s why you keep doing all these idiotic flattery numbers thinking I’d pay any attention to them. And I never will. Because I found out from deep probing that ‘lafayette’ is worthless and should be sent to a ‘Dick Cheney black site’, or something really specialized that the CIA knows how to devise ingeniously. Go to hell, you wannabe powerbottom.
‘NB’ might well be ‘BN’, but it doesn’t matter at this point. They’re all just allied because of mutual academic interests and hope their ‘balance brought forward’ will amount to more than their current canned food. But Nick Land was literally ONLY interesting because he pulled off ‘being adventurous’, which he wasn’t. Adventure is somewhere else.
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But Nick Land was literally ONLY interesting because he pulled off ‘being adventurous’, which he wasn’t. Adventure is somewhere else.
”Adventure is somewhere else” is so below par that I found the trailer for PIRANHA 3-D more exciting. Sounds like something Marlene told the producers of SAHARA when they threatened to cut the salary due to excessive drinking. Please stop being ridiculous, you never gave up on your PETIT OBJET LAND, you just lapsed into temporary silence while it gestates towards ever-higher levels of perpetual collapse. But it’s alright; we all have our very own petit objet, and our collapses, as we should.
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See it however you want, they’re releasing his book about a month before mine, that was the only thing I had to mentally schedule. Thus far, I’ve managed to get through this horror only slightly sullied. It’s only you that ‘wishes me ill’, Anodyne and I talked about this type who claims to be ‘your friend’, but actually only says shit like “you never gave up on your PETIT OBJET LAND, you just lapsed into temporary silence while it gestates towards ever-higher levels of perpetual collapse. ”
Sorry, baby, but I just made sure to slip the last locks into place before John came back and made it possible to tell you on here–instead of at your sewer or on email. Now, it’s just the two books involved. As long as you read what I said above, John can delete this and I won’t care. you had probably already seen at k-punk that Robin, Brassier, Fisher, et alia would be in some room at Goldsmith’s sometime in September to discuss Land’s and Noyes’s books. They’re just academics.
well, yes, that phrase is an Americanism style of a certain period, but I’ll withhold that from you, you don’t recognize quality. I really thought this would have been removed after my nap just now. Of course, I wrote him out inside the book. What do you really think I’d want of him now that I don’t see him as exciting anymore? And you didn’t answer the part about how you tried to trick me by telling me i was handsome and he wasn’t? That may be true, but that wasn’t your purpose. You were trying to get me back there. And lafayette IS Nick Land, or he’d clear it up as I said so.
Good. I was swift indeed, and the angel who provided me with ‘adventure is somewhere else’ you’ll never know. That’s beyond you, but with every new attempt at cheap lacanianism, you make it easier and easier not to ever fall into the trap of that ghoulish creep again. The only thing I’ll conceded is that I’m a terrible judge of character sometimes. But that goes for my judgment of you too: I used to think you had integrity, now I know you don’t. As for ‘lafayette’, I never thought he had integrity, but I used to think he was sexy until he clearly was without real hungness, while proclaiming it. Don’t think it wasn’t painful, if that’s what you were looking for, but I would have to ‘collapse’ about something else, since the sex has been pretty incredible even in this heat wave, and it’s usually available any time I want it (although today there was pretty slim pickings after I said goodybe to Jack.) Well, this is an abuse of John’s bleug, but he can erase it, and in fact, the bleugers have been so gross to me (you especially) that I really am owed this courtesy, after all the nonsense and vile tactics. I’m not watching your clip, of course. I like to punish you whenever possible, and Anodyne was right to call you a toilet bottom.
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You had probably read the schedule at k-punk, none of that matters, just good to know about it. The bleugers mostly have a ‘unionized cronyism’, of which I’m very aware. I used to think Nick was outside that, but he’s not, maybe he is, in fact, as he says ‘top bastard’ of that, I’d just like to know who’d want to be ‘top bastard’ of some online community. It is rather extraordinary that you protect ‘lafayette’ so carefully, and then pretend he’s just a ‘nobody’ and ‘nice guy’. We both know he knows all about this fagged noumena stuff. Interesting to see that Nick Srinicek is at that 5 hours of exalted talk. I don’t know who Benjamin Noyes is.
Okay, now I remember why I wrote this extra reply. His book, although merely an anthology of old things, will sell among the bleugers and theory people much better than mine, of course, but that’s beside the point. He’s totally commercial and knows it, and although I did try to be collegial at his business corporate bleug when he came out with the Expo Guide a few months back, he’s not capable of even the vaguest kind of gentlemanliness. What I was lucky about is slipping these remarks in so that I can remain protected, since I know that, although he’s not all that popular with the bleugers, they DO prefer him to me, most of them. He’s ‘one of them’, I’m not. Okay, that’s all. I’d say luck of the Irish, since my name is, but that’s just my father’s doing, I guess I’m about 1/4 Irish, which is nice to have.
Yes, all these bleugers who talk about being ‘artists’ really would DO so if they were capable of it. Instead, they criticized me for taking so long on this book, well yes, it was very hard on me too, and I didn’t even know it would be published in the first long period of work, esp. after Robin wouldn’t even read it. So now he’s got Collapse and the rest. They all find their own level. I’m sure they all have their place, as far as I’m concerned only Dominic’s poems have convinced me of extreme talent, and he’s not exactly the most balanced person in the world (you know NOTHING of that, but I do.) Still, the Nick Land attraction was all about an ‘aura projection’ he was able to do, and may still exert on some. It worked on me too for a long time, but it just didn’t measure up, IF you know what I mean.
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how you tried to trick me by telling me i was handsome and he wasn’t?
I would imagine he told you to try that, that I was easily flattered. Well, you know, I think I used to be. But not any more. As for the writer of Fanged Noumena, I wished him well as recently as 2 months ago, now I don’t wish him anything, good or bad. He’s just some phantom, and probably wants to remain so. If you knew how to do a search function, you could look back at John’s post a year ago exactly, and the strangest remarks by ‘NB’, who kept talking about how ‘Land’s stuff is all crap’, then starts talking about all the good points in the Bataille book. I suppose the only interesting gossip element (so why don’t you look into it?) is the dissonance between Nick/Robin and k-punk, which has long been there. Not that this isn’t chronicled briefly in my own book (at least the Nick/Robin part, I had nothing to write about k-punk, know nothing about him except what I’ve heard from the other two, both of whom have done nothing but lie to me), but I’m sure you look at Fisher’s bleug from time to time. I guess maybe it was YOU who thought I was ‘a sad case’, not Arpege. But when push came to shove, there were political reasons to favour lafayette over me, primarily you knew I’d never cooperate, and the only hope you had was that I could be flattered back into being his ‘dungeon buddy’, as if writing on bleugs with some ghoul, whom you pretend to be unaware of except when it’s convenient, as in ‘the NICK LAND people specialize in conspiracires’, well yes, including that ridiculous woman, who knows all about it, and cooperates, she’s an idiot. But they’ve got you by thge ‘well-known chandeliers’, of course, and you’re stuck. Too bad. Good I slipped through, though. So YOU just go back to your boring cartoons about the ‘narcissistic cat’ and the ‘temptress’, your chasing me around everywhere is disgusting. John will be happy to blame it just as much on me, although you came over here and took your big shit. It’s entirely your fault. You do it because you hate me for not adoring you, and I certainly don’t, and I certainly DO hate you back. As I said, you AND lafayette, that stupid freak. But you knew all this. At least you know I don’t want your fucking Serbian dvd’s. Why don’t you send them to Nick Land? I have his office address. He’d probably love them.
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Thus far, I’ve managed to get through this horror only slightly sullied.
That Tennessee Williams gay paranoia is OUT – get it? OUT! – you’re too old for it and the times have changed. Now the bipolar disorder is en vogue, I mean for fuck’s sake just look at Anodyne, gene splicing scientist by day and PoMo SLUT by night.
The reason you cannot give up on Land, Lafayette, et cetera, is that paranoia requires a projection of own narcissistic rage, I mean rage at your own grandiose self-projection, which has become like the Deneuve character in HUNGER, too grand and too great for her own good. For this to be bearable, for it not to annihilate you, it is safer to turn it into a virtuality, something like the vampiric presence you created out of Nick Land. This is where you fail to understand the importance of the bottom’s relativization, his ”grounding” of the top’s narcissism, as it were. You think you will be happy in the castle with all the coffins safely stashed away in some Haitian storage room, but it isn’t so. This is what the Ab Fab clip explains in comedically brilliant terms.
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LOL, that was good. No, i understand that you have to make the best of your bottomism, and you’re right about Anodyne’s Bipolar Chic, but I DO enjoy the prospect of all the ‘coffins stores in some Haitian storage room’, indeed my grandiosity deserves no less, and that is why you worship me. I must admit I find you funny the way one would find a cocaine kingpin who killed your family funny once you recognized his ‘quaint charateristics’. You weren’t aware that I liked the idea of the quiet of all those coffins. I find it very calming. That’s why Dominic is very nice once every two or three months. He comes up with masterful things, despite his horrible nerdish personality. And his last post on ‘love and lovers’ was most charmant. I found it irresistible, although I’m sure he was ashamed at how transparent it is, and didn’t know that I know the backup.
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About the ”sex heatwave”, let me report that all throughout the Amsterdam pride parade last few weeks a mobile unit of the local Genital Diseases Clinic was offering free hepatitis vaccination, which they didn’t use to have five years ago. Apparently they had so much new STDs last couple of years it’s become a necessity to expand the medical agitprop.
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Yes, the tendency to barebacking is stunning. I NEVER do it.
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Your syntax was therefore, as usual, unwelcome. I wouldn’t even enjoy the fucking I’ve been up to if I didn’t do it safely. Somebody who insulted me on a cruising board (he was calling to shut down a theater which is the only one of its kind, and I just was annoyed, because it’s a well-run place, unfortunately, out-of-shape granddads go there and young slobs too often, but SOMETIMES it’s great.) so he cussed me to a farethewell and that was funny, said ‘you’re a poor sad person who nobody will speak to in real life and I felt sorry for you, now I’m going to go back to pretending you don’t exist just like the rest of the whole world’. It was hilarious. I find it so interesting when people use this kind of talk to people they know nothing about on these boards. I mean, it’s not even like most of us really know each other well on the bleugs, but on that board, this guy called me a ‘piece of shit’ and we both flagged each other. I just didn’t want the place closed, as it’s one of the few clean places.
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And his last post on ‘love and lovers’ was most charmant.
ALL THE LOVERS, that have gone before
They don’t compare
To you.
Don’t be frigtened,
just give me a little bit more
They don’t compare
ALL THE LOVERS!
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You would even trash dominic to kylie minogue. That’s why you and lafayette are together, you believe in nothing but trashing the pristine. And that’s why you like Joan Rivers, who is rotten to the core.
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Your syntax was therefore, as usual, unwelcome. I wouldn’t even enjoy the fucking I’ve been up to if I didn’t do it safely.
I wasn’t trying to make any commentary, you can fuck profusely with or without my blessing, I was just reporting the news from Amsterdam, which seems to suggest that a little restraint would save our community quite alotta trouble. The medical services are saying that if you’re living the gay life these days you need a checkup every six months, actually, that’s how bad it’s become.
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I saw Joanie’s documentary and I stand by my opinion, formed 20 years ago when I read her biography. That biography pulled me out of adolescent depressions, that’s how funny it is in parts. She is the foul-mouthed Jenta that Arpege would like to be, but never will be.
Speaking of which only an elitarian cunt could ever think that the sort of gay recital operettas Mis’z publishes these days at Qlipoth Toilets are BETTER than Kylie Minogue!
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You must HATE it that Mikhail publishes FAR more real music than even Arpege does. I’m going to go over there and listen to the Boulez. You’re such ‘cornhole-dancer’ trash, with that horrible girl, she’s not even as good as Madonna.
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You’re such ‘cornhole-dancer’ trash, with that horrible girl, she’s not even as good as Madonna.
In fact I think her reinvention is better than Madge’s, Madge’s slutted around too much for her age, and lost her idiom in the process. She doesn’t have Kylie’s European pedigree. But I am not a devout electro pop fan, a lot of that stuff is horrible. I still respect their grandfathers, THE EURYTHMICS, and there are some new bands, like KOSHEEN, that are quite interesting despite working in this fairly trased-out idiom.
I like Mikhail’s music, mostly. I don’t comment because I feel uncomfortable in the area of classical music, this because I feel that I somewhat betrayed my father’s line when I opted for the visual arts. I am embarrassed not to know basic things about solfeggio, for example, or composition.
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This is excellent, although I’m not quite as fond of it as other Boulez, first time I heard him using choral writing, I don’t find it quite as beautiful. Same crazy sounding solo girl, though, she’s good. Based on Rene Char poem, there are several. best is ‘Le Marteau sans Maitre’, I can’t remember if that has choral music, I used to listen to it all the time though. Kylie does not seem European, but rather just Hollywood Trash.
You sure don’t know about solfege, as there’s nothing to know about it, you just do it or not. It’s just sightsinging, you sing do re mi fa sol la si do to whatever pitches. The french do more of it than conservatories here, I did a lot of it. All you have to do is read basic music, there’s no mystery there. Knowing about composition is another thing, has to do with talent if you do it, but there’s also analysis and reading about basic structures and forms, like sonata form, but you don’t have the attentiion span for that, so you do Kylie with Poppers.
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It’s even got OOO material in the poem–something about a rainbow merging with the grass, although I guess Harman would say that this was impossible, and now k-punk is saying that he learned from Harman that ‘everything is opaque’. Like these nerds’ brains.
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No, this is the one Arpege or somebody there put up.
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Dejan, I just feel terrible that nobody will write on your bleug…
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Dejan, are you happy in your new role as Susan Saradon in her coffin?
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You should be thinking about being a nice person like these guys, you know, not watching disgusting whorish entertainments.
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”Plaint for a lizard in love”, this is apparently about the Cobra’s tumultuous love affair with Derrida. It begins quite movingly, as a plea, a plead,”Don’t peck the sunflower seeds, your cypresses will suffer”, probably (although it’s vague) depicting the scene when Mis’z was sitting with Derrida at her summer house in Lesbos, and told him that the cypresses were swinging in the wind. Then Derrida said Mis’z was drunk, and this is why it seemed like the cypresses were swinging. ”You are no pebble in the sky for the wind to set you free”, Mis’z was adamant, as Derrida unbuttoned Mis’z corset, and the rainbow merged into the daisy, and the grasses were bending in the fields.
On-topic, I always wondered whether flute players were especially good at oral sex, or playing the flute as a compensation, because they couldn’t deepthroat. With oboists, it’s clearly some kind of a passive-aggressive relationship with the tit. In both cases I don’t understand how one can spend one’s entire life making such gay lip movements.
Why did you send the article on the pump?
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”You are no pebble in the sky for the wind to set you free”,
That reminded me of that wonderful Magritte painting. The other part was funny, about arpege trying to allow Derrida to have an affair, but once I found out you have no ear at all (never heard of Boulez, think he sounds like Glass), well, that negated all your seeming cleverness.
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I thought it was touching and moving, in the very literal sense–never heard about those battery-powered things that accompany a failing heart. I thought they were talking about something recent, but by now one or both has transplants. I just thought it would inspire you to be a nicer person, just like the geezers and their police motorcade to the hospital, and would change your mind from its emphasis on filth and fagged noumena assholes.
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When I first saw this about ‘the pump’, I’d forgotten about the heart pump, and thought you meant a vacuum pump, which cause distended flaccidities in the male pudenda.
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And who is that Boulez, he sounds pleasingly dissonant, and a bit like Philip Glass as well – are they related generically?
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That’s the saddest remark you’ve ever made.
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Now that you’ve got your feet wet, you can comment at Mikhail’s all you want, you can’t possibly say anything more embarassing than that…and he’s much nicer about it than I am.
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Look I like the music, it’s ”avant garde”, surreal, dissonant, but the singing is horrid, especially when she starts bulging her eyes like something out of Ken Russel’s DEVILS, and the kitschy poetry lines kick in, ALL THE CYPRESSES sufferin’. I hate it when you shove your ballerina ”feelings” down my throat as if it’s somehow purer to have HISTRIONIA than some fluffy disco emotion, you sarcastic old fuckwad. And there’s no SEX in it, it’s all SPINSTER WAILING or something for married LESB’ANS like Arpege to enjoy.
I think real medical and humanistic breakthrough will only come when they come up with a penis pacemaker, allowing you to masturbate well beyond death.
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This, for example, although it’s nominally European electro pop, has both poetry and good music in it
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ALL THE CYPRESSES sufferin’. I hate it when you shove your ballerina ”feelings” down my throat as if it’s somehow purer to have HISTRIONIA than some fluffy disco emotion,
lol, it IS purer to have my ballerina ‘feelings’, esp. since that idiot editor of Collapse didn’t realize that I metamorphoze from a becoming-ballerina-Suzanne-Farrell to a becoming-hustlercock-Peter-Martins by the second book.
But it’s YOUR fault for everything because you keep that FAGGED NOUMENA in wait for me at all times. Without her, you wouldn’t feel as though you had stolen my ‘petit object a’, which is something I never have been able to get str8 and I don’t want to look it up now.
I agree about the ‘Cypresses suffering’, but you are supposed to be able to look back, instead of suffering amnesia and ignoring history as you’ve learned from NICK LAND and other Fagged Noumena. OF COURSE it looks ‘kitschy’ NOW, but no, the singing is very fine. Very idea you will listen to these common slatterns and say the singing is awful, when it’s just the weird melodic assymetry you’re responding to.
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Dejan–your ‘correspondent’ is at Qlipoth bad-mouthing my ‘narcissistic screechings’, which you will approve of. The only ones who always call me ‘Patrick J. Mullins’ are ‘NB’ and ‘lafayetc’, but only on your bleug. He’s barking up a tree at Arpege’s, though.
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when it’s just the weird melodic assymetry you’re responding to.
well if I didn’t notice the goddamn assymetry, I wouldn’t have mentioned disonnance don’t you think? and yes, i would say you can characterize this as ”weird” in the surrealist manner, because it switches back and forth from romantic to alienated, making these absurd connections between disparate elements, etc, all of which is quite lynchian and therefore pleasing.
i hear what you’re saying about the historic dimension, and believe me, i appreciate it a lot; this is why i am attracted to education, i find it quite fascinating how things develop over time and how you have two parallel processes – one of change, and one of stasis. the more things change, the more they remain the same, and yet totally different.
however my complaint is rather against the HISTRONIC DIMENSION in this clip; the bulging-eye wailing spinster is universal and timeless, she’s invariably annoying in whatever context, but I know this is precisely the aspect that draws the Cobra in, not the music, or the singing
i already feel better since eloise came back. eloise makes me feel safe, and cosy around the heart. she’s the ideal host for our tumultuous fuckings, and i think in turn we make her fairly disciplined bleug slightly more shall we say flamboyant?
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HISTR’ONIC is good, like Lesb’an. My god, Andrea Feldman had no idea what she was offering the world when she couldn’t pronounce it, and it was obnoxious in the dialogue (Andy Warhol’s HEAT) when Sylvia Myles would keep correcting her, since ‘Lesb’an’ was genius.
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I couldn’t find the comment at qlipoth that you mention, but i found another vulgar-materialist discovery by arpege, which is ”vulgar materialist psychoanalysis”. I quote the example not because I want to pursue the dead horse of a discussion relating to psychoanalysis, but because this is such a plastic example of Mis’z feigned erudition (her graduation from Cornell University always made me doubt American ivy league education, that is, if she isn’t LYING):
the analyst is around 190 years old (as usual with arpege’s references) and saying that the material conditions of the client also influence his mental malady, which i guess should lead us to the conclusion that psychoanalysis would be difficult, if not impossible, to apply in certain haitian slums. a fair point – medical help in any form SHOULD be available to all peoples, whether you consider the problem as a bourgeois, or as a socialist.
but the analyst further seems to override the crucial insight of psychoanalysis that mental maladies and their symptoms DO NOT disappear even when the material conditions change, as you can already see from war-traumatized soldiers who miraculously stop washing hands obsessively when in combat, only to begin again upon returning home and to the analyst’s office.
in other words, it is easy and simple to demonstrate that (although it is clearly INFLUENCED by material conditions), the psyche does indeed have a life of its own.
but in Mis’z’s Orthopaedic Marxism, only the material dimension exists, never mind that she spends most of her excessive leisure time in the opera balcony, that is to say ABOVE the material conditions afflicting 90% of humanity.
this, too, isn’t such cause for concern. it’s even endearing in a way, it’s certainly better if rich heiresses maintain at least some kind of a chic engagement and philanthropy instead of being just downright egomaniacal.
but where it gets truly venomous, is that Mis’z proceeds to DEFEND this position from those who aren’t even attacking it; sometimes she comments her own texts in order to provoke agitation. after she has lured in the piranjas, she launches into her trademark lesb’an self-sacrifice shtick where it appears that she invested TREMENDOUS EFFORT in mounting as well as defending this argument (which in reality, always is the same; it’s always about the ”material dimension”).
of course everyone else in this scheme is small fish, and Mis’z is the only true PIRANJA in the debates.
speaking of piranjas, I am curiously attracted to the upcoming PIRANHA-3D, which promises to bring the fishies into the third dimension. i have a lifelong fascination with these kinds of predators due to their complete obliviousness to morals.
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sometimes she comments her own texts in order to provoke agitation.
That’s the best part. You don’t understand how to play with wermin at all. They don’t want you to wear a girdle like they do, except for the really tough ones like Anodyne. Anodyne knows how to act like Joan Crawford and that’s why you went for her, because she dripped honey and then beat the shit out of you with her wire hanger just like she beat Christina. But she doesn’t really mind that much if you want to act like a wimmernz. She’ll just throw you out like the lingerie bottom you are, because her desire to be treated like a traditional wermin is seasonal. (I have to admit I loved that post where you said she had become Assistant Womyn, that is so fucking I’m in tears right now). But, since arpege is safely in Paris, she doesn’t want you to know that she likes to wear high heels and squeal like Jayne Mansfield, and does NOT like it when you wear a girdle! She is not qualified to treat you in a professional way like Anodyne is: Anodyne will let you parade around in your panties and then let you ask her to marry her, and say no, just so long as you pay her for her excellent performance. Honey, a pro like that is what you need, Anodyne would turn you over and beat your buns with a whip in two seconds, ’cause she knows you want it. She is just Assistant Womyn because Arpege has been in businezz longer, and she knows she has to pay her dues. Actually, she wants Arpege’s job as Magisterial Ashram-Goeur…
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Awakened at 4:15 by some woman screaming “Oh my God” and banging on a car window with a rock. This being a nice town and all, I went out there to offer aid — it turns out it was the new neighbor, who had locked the keys in her car as she was getting ready to drive to the airport. Surprisingly, no one called the cops on her.
We got back from SC on Saturday morning after spending the night sleeping on benches at the Atlanta airport, bad weather having caused thousands of people to miss their flights out. Two beachgoers had been bitten by sharks in the prior week, but 3 combined hours in the ocean left us unscathed.
It looks like the creative bile is still flowing here, but since most of it doesn’t involve me I’ve not read it carefully. In this early morning void I took a quick tour of some of the old blog hangouts, and found myself wondering how I could have invested so much libido and intellect in these issues. As a lifetime champion of the cold topic my enthusiasm for the objectology wanes with its success. Over the past two days I read The Unnamed, a recent novel by Joshua Ferris. Some might deem the prose overwrought but I found much of it brilliant. I might not finish James M. Cain’s Mildred Pierce, as the story is largely an imitation of Imitation of Life. Have seen no new movies.
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‘Mildred Pierce’ I haven’t read, but that’s the one really good Crawford perf. from her ‘hard period’, which is all of it after about the late 30s. She’d been this lovely fresh thing, a Charleston dancer, starting back in the last 20s in silents, and she got rid of all that, never became a great actress, and just got humorless and harder than nails. But that’s her Oscar-winning perf. She’s strange, after that early period, in which she was married to Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., she also lost all her sexiness, just bossy and tough all the time. Good in one other piece of pulp though: ‘Flamingo Road’. Faye Dunaway really finessed her, though, because her perf. of Crawford was far greater than any acting Crawford herself ever did.
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They don’t want you to wear a girdle like they do, except for the really tough ones like Anodyne.
In a Phallus exchange which you may or may not have read, I don’t know, I was defending the position that it’s all about the Phallus, which I’ll keep believing in no matter how much WERMIN you throw at me, which made Analyte furious (this was the beginning of our divorce). Anyhow at one point she said that no, wimmern don’t expect a big dick, at the end of the day, they expect someone to cuddle up with.
And although this does tally with my experience in life (like, I had so many gorgeous woman friends in Serbia who were total sluts in their twenties and are now calling me to weep about divorces and lost loves), it doesn’t automatically cancel out female masochism, nor female narcissism.
For you see, Anodyne would indeed put me in lingerie and watch me squirm, therefore enacting the Oedipal trauma that all of us queens went through, be my dominant Mommy and all, NOT to make me a man, not to get me to fuck her, but to in the end get the nurturing and protective Dad that she never had, or thought she never had – otherwise she wouldn’t be working out her Daddy Hatred in the brothels of Manhattan in the first place. (If you want you can believe her Lefty stories about prostitution against capitalism, this is what most sluts use as an excuse not to admit that they LOVE it or more concretely, that they, too, and not just their customers, work through certain psychological dynamicisms in this way)
In other words, she doesn’t want me to be a man, she’s neither healing me nor emancipating me, she wants me to be a boy, or a fag-along, not because she cares about ME as an individual, or about my lingerie, but because she cares about HER OWN CUNTER.
(Analyte once complained, I don’t remember in which context, that she found DOT PALIN’s complaints a travesty, that Dot made too big a deal out of the prostitution, but I realized later that Dot is much more honest about her own desires in this process and how the game served to resolve her own Daddy issues.)
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(I have to admit I loved that post where you said she had become Assistant Womyn, that is so fucking I’m in tears right now).
Are you saying this because if I don’t thank you or in some other way show that I heard you, and basked in the compliment, you will later accuse me of being the kind of a toilet bottom who can’t take a simple compliment, or to repay me in kind for my own (genuinely meant) compliment as regards your ragged sailor in a poet’s costume good looks at Childie’s window sill?
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Although I don’t like Dot’s numbers either, she got too righteous and good-citizen, and willed herself to be a failed prostitute. Whatever Anodyne does in ‘the business’ (if any, I’m never sure whether she’s telling the truth about a number of things), she would have no interest in being pathetic or failing at any of it. She might be very good at it, if she does it. Honesty has nothing to do with it, but lots of people in the oldest profession, especially the men, totally love it, because of the power–the money is part of the worship, although some of the young hustlers are desperate. Now these I’ve seen at some of the DVD places a lot more recently, and they’re pretty impoverished and very unhygienic–I wouldn’t go near one of them even if they weren’t desperate for a buck, and a lot of them do seem to be on crack.
I actually think Anodyne would probably be very flexible about almost any kind of trip, she just likes the butchness of getting, like, really into science. Notice how she’ll do nothing but science posts for a long time, a couple of months, and then nothing but a series of feminist posts, maybe 3 months. She’s smart, but not really going to tell you that much. Mainly, she definitely knows how to take care of herself.
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Are you saying this because if I don’t thank you or in some other way show that I heard you, and basked in the compliment,
It wasn’t really a compliment, now that you’re getting all corny and sentimental cow. It was just fucking funny, your whole lexicon and vocabulary of wamman, wyrmyrn, and ‘Assistant Womyn’ is so insane it just fucking cracks me up, so I really don’t think you should get any credit for it, you’re probably just channeling it from Nick Land or something…my petit objet b…of course, I invented ‘wimmern’ and ‘wimmernz’, but then ‘wermin’–that happened with a wimmernz in 2001 I knew, she was from Texas and I told her about my step-grandmother, this hick my grandfather fooled around with and then married after my real grandmother died. She said ‘that woe-mern’, but I heard it first as ‘wermin’ and so did Jeaneane, the Texan, she knew the sound from down South, and then you realized that ‘wermin’ comes right out of hick ‘wimmern’. Josie made wonderful country-fried steaks, though, best I ever had. She was total country and ex-grapefruit factory worker, you ought to hear one of my sisters going on about how country she was. I liked her, though.
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I find it quite demeaning to GAY WOMEN that most hustlers I talked with in the Netherlands seem to play the ”top” or are literally straight types who are able to fuck ass because it’s tighter than a pussy, and their interest in boys ends there. But because gay women actually like to be demeaned, it ends up being a fair exchange, so you won’t hear me launching into either Anodynesque or Dot Palinesque diatribes about the deeper political meaning of all this. There are also professional escort services where they employ people in their twenties, and these are usually able to offer ”versatile services” – somehow it’s always nicer to imagine a little boy with his legs high up in the air than a grown-up man performing the same – but the well-endowed patriarchal Niggaz, Arabs and Moroccans are always much more in demand, this because there is always more bottoms than tops on the market. As you can see, PHALLUS REIGNS.
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She’s smart, but not really going to tell you that much.
Yes I already said that I thought she was only really into her own hole.
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Did you see dr. Sinthome’s new photo, in the sculpture expo post?
I told him that amount of fat is just right, but if he gets any fatter than that I won’t be visiting as often as I do. I thought the legs were quite good, but the criminal dress sense (as usual) creates the impression of some American hick eyeing ”European art” which some Parisian hicks have put exorbitant price tags on while it’s actually fourth-rate cheap trash out of the Parisian wing of the Wallmart.
Needless to stress, the comment never saw the light of the day.
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Hi Johnn-O glad you had a rest’n all. I’ve never heard about any of those books in my life. If you want a summary of what happened here, look at the AbFab clip above!
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There was a minor skirmish-tantrum surrounding Derrida. First Christina Vitale usurped the Narcissistic Cat, something about the withdrawal of Objects again, then K-punk came up with one of his theatrical pamphlets – ”Deconstruction is a pathology” – which led to a series of self-congratulatory posts from the objectology lodge. I admonished the cat but she deleted my comments; I told her she can’t put on more weight, the current beer belly is sexy but it should stay on that level. Butchness is still the most interesting writer in the post-Continental blawgosphere, which is why I have been trying so hard to rent her services, but those two WERMIN Sherbert and Analyte are standing in my way, annoying me, causing me to hurt. Of the cumming attractions, I am preparing TOJ STORI 3 about a bunch of Marxist dolls (Leninini, Chabert, Nymphomania, Analyte, Dr. Fossey, Products without novels etc) who are shipped to this utopian socialist paradise where toys don’t have to work; but the plot thickens when it turns out the ”paradise” is being run by a Stalinist puppet.
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I actually love the American country scene, which is kind of hypocritical as I dislike the village scene in Serbia. Like, I think Dolly Parton is just great all over, and I like the spontaneity of farm life. I used to spend a lot of time cuddling cows in my grandfather’s barn, though I never did what you’re THINKING you filthy old weasel. This was all about warmth and bonding.
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Did you see dr. Sinthome’s new photo, in the sculpture expo post?
Oh my GOD. No wonder traxus’s photo made you change your mind about trying any more cheap ageism on me! He’s FAT! oh christ, I didn’t have any idea, but I have seen this happen with gymmers here fairly often, they do have big muscles, but get the bellies anyway, because they really do want to hang out at the beer bars, and most people forget how bad most beer is (Jack and I have 2 or 3 bottles of Stella Artois or newcastle Ale a week, and even those are nothing to write home about, beer is fucking inferior, except expensive stuff like Samuel Smyth’s Nut Brown Ale, which is about $7 a bottle, that’s prohibitive).
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You might not really like it as a reality. I grew up on a farm, and I just thought the livestock stank, I never could stand to be in the barns, esp. the dairy. Actually, it was my granddad’s land, we lived maybe 1/4 mile up from him so we weren’t by the actual barns, and my father hated it all too. When you get ‘country’ in musical form like Dolly, it’s long-removed from anything like manure, etc., and she’s not representative at all. Loretta Lynn stayed pretty close to her roots, though. Not that I don’t like Dolly, she’s marvelous, although once she ‘went Hollywood’, the music pretty much went out the window. Old real country music from the 50s and 60s is much more pungent and unwashed. Naturally, I picked flowers and liked the feral cats, although I DID have to pick cotton and work in the garden, etc. But not as much as the others, and I certainly never milked any fucking cows.
Okay, Dejan, I think we have overstayed our welcome here. Just because you can’t manage lafayette doesn’t mean we can chitchat here. It just means I’m loathed universally, and people (including you) wish I would quit being so narcissistic, or so they say. They really just wish they knew how to do it, but anyway, I’m the one they want to punish, ESPECIALLY that Harman person. She KNOWS I got her number long before anybody else did, even the Collapse people gave up shortly afterward, I believe. Yes, she probably would fall into Piaf’s grave just like Patsy fell into Saunders’s father’s grave drunk that time, after the ‘Yankee bimbo from hell’ new ager, and then looking at the corpse and saying ‘But is it AHT?’ I bet DOT PALIN would think so, since she thinks all sorts of arts ‘n’ crafts are art.
So we should leave this alone. After all, nobody has ever cleared up the Fagged Noumena Conspiracy and emails I got this morning weren’t much better, of course lafayette isn’t going to email me. So YOU will probably just have to do without, GAY WOMYN!
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Well ‘SCUSE YOU MEE, but Part’n’s recent ‘Trav’lin’ Thru’ ‘s a great song, ‘specially cuz I see maa-self ‘s a weary peelgrim too tryin’-a figure out where all my peesez went!
I thought Eloise was busy baking pastry in the kitchen; the table was neatly set and she also left a note for us that we can use the laundromat when we’re finished. But she’s grown kind of silent? I don’t know what’s happening.
Mikhail just published a hilarious objectology commandments post, maybe we should move over to that joint?
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No, he won’t tolerate it, and Mikhail I won’t push too far, he’s deserving of respect. Not that John is any less, but he’s more fun-loving and puts up with goddam faggits. Kvond is very smart, but a little tight-lipped and not enough humour, as I see it. But extremely good on the Iliad. But NO, absolutely not go there, because I wouldn’t like to have him tell us to cut it out, and he would in no time. I just don’t see why they take Harman so seriously, nor do I understand what is so profound about Harman. I just can’t see it, any of it.
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Eloise, I’ve been reading a great book on Lynch by E.G. Wilson (”The Strange World of David Lynch”) which in one swoop captures most of our discussions since 2006. Wilson claims that Lynch’s films are religious, but not in any institutional or traditional way, rather, that through their combining impossible paradoxes through so-called ”transcendental irony” they enter into nothingness, and in this nothingness is the presence of an absolute something, a God, which then also accounts for the visionary quality of Lynch’s films. This is then discussed film by film, and although I’m only at the beginning, I see this is the next item on our reading club list. Wilson also wrote a wider study of Gnosticism in cinema, which I ordered from Amazon.
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Kvond is very smart, but a little tight-lipped and not enough humour, as I see it.
Kvondique totally flopped on a discussion of AVATAR, which I consider, agreeing TOTALLY with Arpege, as a prime-time example of American protofascist cinema in all of its ugliest ugliness, but Kvondique thought this was a ”great film” and
”revolutionary”, reading all manner of Spinoza into it. She then created a new bleug called ”Mitochondrial Vertigo” (like Analyte, this queen likes to combine film noir with genetics) but I haven’t paid much attention to it as it seems to revolve around irrelevant subjects.
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