Liu Xiaobo Discusses Freedom of Expression in China

"We will maintain the spirit of the freedom of writing."

(CLICK ON LINKS IN BROWN- FOR MEDIA)

Timothy Cheek - Why did Liu Xiaobo receive the Nobel Peace Prize? "representative of human rights activists in China"

Relationship between Chinese intellectuals & the state.

Who is Liu Xiaobo and what is he about? Writing about public issues.

Why is Liu Xiaobo in jail? Charter 08.

The effect of the Nobel Peace Prize on Chinese politics.

STALKING, & ABUSES OF POWER-

I wish this post was about the brilliant Tarkovsky film Stalker- but it's not..

Stalking is a serious issue that I am going to write about in this post & I will also share my experience.

I know & I've gotten to know a few people who have suffered the abuse of stalking & stalking is a far more common problem than I realized.

A friend of mine who is very dear to me recently won a court case against their stalker & I am glad that for the first time in many years that they have some relief & that the law worked in their case & that justice was brought.

It's going on ten years that I have had to deal with a stalker, more on this later.

First I'd like to discuss the importance of a social code in our relations with other people that most of us understand.

In our lives we get to know & befriend others & a myriad of possible events occur in which we no longer wish to be in contact with another person or have them in our lives, or vice versa, to discontinue contact with others & move on with ones life is a basic human right-.

Generally, after such a dissolution of contact has occurred it is up to the parties involved to responsibly deal with any emotions they may have & respect the life, freedom & privacy of the other person.

I think that the most important part of the process of the maturation into adulthood (which I honestly think only happens in ones late 20's-) revolves around dealing with rejection, which all of us have experienced at one time or another (& likely will for the rest of our lives) & also, that one can never judge the life circumstances of another human being.

I think that perhaps the corporatization of our culture into irrational & consumptive ways of thinking- & relating to others ( materialism & 'the age of the thing', the objectification & abuse of men, women & children in the sex industry & the paparazzi/Tv/junkfood & commercial media/culture, etc) is at least partly (if not entirely) responsible for the rise in stalking & harassment incidents.

The UN is well aware that stalking is a serious issue as stated in this paper -

"Defining and measuring violence against women: Background, issues, and recommendations" from a meeting that took place in Geneva Switzerland- in April 2005:

"Specifically, future violence against women surveys should be designed to collect information not just on violent acts, such as physical assault, sexual assault, and threats of physical and sexual assault, but nonviolent acts, such as stalking and psychological and emotional abuse.

Information generated from the National Violence Against Women Survey (NVAWS) shows that stalking is much more prevalent than previously thought; and that victims of stalking suffer serious psychological and social consequences as a result of their victimization (Tjaden and Thoennes,1998)." Link (PDF)

My stalker is aware that my local police have an ongoing file on him & still he refuses to leave me alone.

I've been told to get a restraining order & I should- but it's legally complicated because my stalker has small children & I am certain that a restraining order & a case in court might result in his losing his children. So one obviously serious issue is I would be unintentionally intervening in the welfare of his children by protecting & defending myself.

So, I have a dilemma on my hands & this choice to make in that my stalker has twice used his small child to leave me messages in order to bait a response & is thus training his child to stalk me.

I had not contacted my stalker in over 9 years (you are understandably not- supposed to contact your stalker & I obviously never had the desire to) & recently tried to give my stalker the opportunity to stop infringing on my human rights. When I received a second message from his child I was positively fuming. I dialed his number, he answered in a warped tone of voice, & screaming- I told him that to use his child to get my attention, to stalk me- is wrong & that "it makes my blood boil" & that he should be aware that the local police have a file on him & that I obviously want nothing to do with him if I have not contacted him in almost ten years & I hung up. The call was a few seconds in duration.

I thought that perhaps this would bring him to his senses that he is not only abusing me but his child.

I had not been contacted by my stalker for a long period of time after this call & was finally able to forget my stalker & glad that perhaps- I would not have to get a restraining order & take my stalker to court.

I wonder, what it is that leads stalkers to create a delusional version of you, & what leads them to such abusive & irrational behavior.

It's obviously obsessive behavior & I am not unfamiliar with it.

I have also dealt with being harassed, bullied & abused on the net by someone in the arts scene here who has never seen my work in person & who I only had limited contact with.. I stopped posting at any Chicago arts blogs after 2006 - 2007 & am thus censored from my opinion as a way to avoid abuse & quite honestly to not involve myself in a majority of poorly monitored Chicago arts blogs that are rife with tacky & pleonastic gossip.

I was contacted by some of these blogs a few years later & told that my name would be removed from abusive & paranoid tangents made by this person, &- paranoid & abusive tangents projected towards me- yet, onto people who were not- me. I thought this insane, terrifying & obsessive. That someone would assume that everyone who disagreed with them was me & thus abuse my name & integrity further-.

I am truly grateful that these art blogs took the time to realize that this is intolerable, unacceptable & abusive behavior.

This person has since painted themselves into a corner as I am not the only victim of their abuses, I am on a long list of arts professionals who have been a victim of this person.

I also recently blocked them from my email because they emailed me out of the blue with bizarre threats as if I- am somehow responsible for their abusive behavior towards others & the fact that others have become fully aware that this individual is incredibly & consistently abusive towards other artists & individuals.

My stalker of almost ten years also stalks me on the net & after his mails I block him, I have all his emails saved for the police records/file on him.

He has also left me long messages on my answering machine & the police told me several years ago to save all his messages & they visited to listen to all of them, including the ones of his child asking me to contact my stalker & they made a record of them. The police were disgusted, had a lot to say, incredibly helpful, concerned about me (& as I, that child) & once again they tried to push for a restraining order & case against my stalker (at this point there is a surplus- of tangible evidence created by my stalker).

I write about & raise this issue now- because my stalker contacted me again today, via an email account through one of my online art files & of course this too will go to the police. I am mortified & appalled at my stalkers carelessness & immorality.

At this point in my life- this post is also a necessary & a cathartic expression of what many of us suffer not only randomly but for some of you on a day to day basis.

Stalking is treated as a taboo subject & it should not be, it is a selfish, sadistic & dangerous behavior, it is also dangerously misrepresented & stigmatized by corporate entities via products, advertisements, commercials & on social networking sites.

It is never- appropriate to stalk &/or harass another human being, to limit them, disrespect them, abuse them & control them- impinge on their privacy & rights. It is against the law-...

& now I have to spend time & energy seriously considering putting a restraining order on my stalker of almost ten years.

This will seriously & negatively impact his life.

I am not a revengeful person, I am respectful & discreet towards all people.

But- I do stand up for myself & though I am a stolid atheist, I do- believe in karma.

& compassion.

So- I copy & paste the message (name redacted) I received today from my stalker & answer it here, as a last chance for my stalker to go & get some help & see a psychiatrist, get appropriate care & attention for their problem & avoid an extremely damaging restraining order & prosecution- & to leave me alone as I asked almost ten years ago.:

"Message:

I am sorry
can we talk, please."



NO.



-

Links:

Stalking Resource Center- The National Center for Victims of Crime

Stalking Help

Cyberstalking The National Center for Victims of Crime

"Two Communities Respond to Stalking" - (video)

"SVS found that, within a 12-month period, approximately 3.4 million U.S. adults were victims of stalking. Of these victims:

* 11% of victims were stalked for 5 years or more
* Approximately 25% experienced some form of cyberstalking such as email or instant messaging
* 66.2% of stalking victims experienced unwanted phone calls or messages
* Nearly 75% of stalking victims knew their stalkers in some way

During the 12-month survey period, 14 of every 1,000 adults were victims of stalking."

Stalking

Support Group


"Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do."
&
"And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” - Nelson Mandela


(Thank you to my dearest friends for your love, wisdom & support...)

De tir L'etoile de Brûlures Vie

-






Je suis mourir
mort une fois de plus

mais mon cadeau spécial est que je sais
comment d'être né, différemment,

de plus, je suis forcé d'être oubliés

jamais oublier que nous choisissons d'être oubliés

nous sommes tous- sont l'effacement

l'effacement

leur faire oublier dans l'oubli trouvent ensuite et trouvent
qu'ils se punir de se rappeler ce qui a été oublié
laissez-les créer la haine et de mauvaise humeur de ce

Je suis différent
Je suis-un révolutionnaire le sang
vous, mon secret, vous êtes révolutionnaire

donc je vous promets, je n'oublierai jamais
jamais

grâce à vous-

Je suis né de nouveau

Je avoir vous- comme un soleil brûlant
une source dans mon être
un brillant petit kernal de la vie qui digère la grandeur de l'univers avec le cerveau
le plus beau l'esprit est une tête pensante
infiniment
feu et la de tir
toujours pour la fois
dans ma psyché, mes rêves, mes pensées de vie
que la verte et des animaux, de brûlures vie

de tir l'etoile de brûlures vie

d'exister est de savoir ce que cela signifie pour entrer et se baigner dans la lumière de la vie et la transformation





-


By, Amy Marina Denes


Dixit Dominus & Messe de Miniut - Charpentier

The Boy, (a previously unpublished story) by, David Foster Wallace

The Boy



Every whole person has ambitions, projects, objectives. This particular boy’s objective was to press his lips to every square inch of his own body. His arms to the shoulders and most of the legs beneath the knee were child’s play but after these areas of his body, the difficulty increased with the abruptness of a coastal shelf. The boy came to understand that unimaginable challenges lay ahead of him. He was six.

There is little to say about the animus or motive cause of the boy’s goal of pressing his lips to every single square inch of his own body. He had been homebound one day with asthma—a rainy, distended morning—apparently looking through some of his father’s promotional materials. The asthma was congenital. The outside area of his foot beneath and around the lateral malleolus (the young boy thought at that point of the lateral malleolus as the ‘funny knob thing’ on his ankle) was the first to require any real contortion. The strategy, as he understood it, was to arrange himself on his bedroom’s carpeted floor with the inside of his knee on the floor and his calf and foot at as close to a perfect ninety-degree angle to his thigh as he could at that point manage, then he had to lean as far over to the side as he could, bending out over the splayed ankle and the foot’s outside, rotating his neck over and down and straining with his fully-extended lips at a section of the foot’s outside he had marked with a bull’s-eye of soluble ink, struggling to breathe against the dextrorotated pressure of his ribs, stretching farther and farther to the side very early one morning until he felt a flat pop in the upper part of his back and then pain beyond naming somewhere between his shoulder-blade and spine. The boy did not cry out but merely sat silent in this tortured posture until his failure to appear for breakfast brought his father upstairs to the bedroom’s door. The pain and resultant dyspnea kept the boy out of school for over a month. One can only wonder what a father might make of an injury like this in a six-year-old child.

The father’s chiropractor, Dr. Kathy, was able to relieve the worst of the immediate discomfort. More important, it was Dr. Kathy who introduced the boy to the concepts of spine-as-microcosm and of spinal hygiene and postural echo and incrementalism and flexion. Dr. Kathy smelled faintly of fennel and seemed totally open and available and kind. The child lay stomach-down on a tall padded table and placed his chin in a little cup. She manipulated his head very gently but in a way that seemed to make things happen all the way down his back. Her hands were strong and soft and when she felt the boy’s back, he felt as if she were asking it questions and answering them all at the same time. She had charts on her wall with exploded views of the human spine and the muscles and fascia and nerve-bundles that surrounded the spine and were connected to it. No lollipops were anywhere in view. The specific stretching exercises Dr. Kathy gave the boy were for the splenius capitis and longissimus cervicis and the deep sheets of nerve and muscle surrounding the boy’s T-2 and T-3 vertebrae, which were what he had injured. Dr. Kathy had reading glasses on a necklace and a green button-up sweater that looked as if it were made entirely of pollen. You could tell she talked to everybody the same way. She instructed the boy to do the stretching exercises every single day and not to let boredom or a reduction in symptomology keep him from performing the rehabilitative exercises in a determined way. She said the long-term goal was not relief of present discomfort but neurological hygiene and health and a wholeness he would someday appreciate very, very much. For the boy’s father, Dr. Kathy prescribed an herbal relaxant.

Most professional contortionists are in fact simply persons born with congenital atrophic or dystrophic conditions of major recti or with acute lordotic flexion of the lumbar spine or both. A majority display Chvostek’s sign or other forms of ipsilateral spasticity. Very little effort or application is involved in their ‘art’ therefore. In 1932, a preadolescent Ceylonese female was documented by British scholars of Tamiel mysticism as capable of inserting into her mouth and down her esophagus both arms to the shoulder, one leg to the groin and the other leg to just above the patella and was thereupon able to spin unaided on the orally protrusive knee at rates in excess of 300 R.P.M. The phenomenon of suiphagia, or self-swallowing, has subsequently been identified as a rare form of inanitive pica caused in most cases by radical deficiencies in cadmium and/or zinc.

The insides of the small boy’s thighs up to the medial fork of his groin took months even to prepare for. Daily, hours spent cross-legged and bowed, slowly and incrementally stretching the long vertical fasciae of his back and neck, the spinalis thorasus and levator scapulae, the iliocostalis lumborum all the way to the sacrum and the interior thigh’s dense and intransigent gracilis, pectineus and adductor longus which fused below Scarpa’s triangle and transmits sickening pain through the pubis whenever the range of flexibility is exceeded. Had anyone seen him during these two and three hour sessions, bringing his feet’s soles together and in to train the pectineus, bobbing slightly and then holding a deep, cross-legged lean to work the great, tight sheath of thoracolumbar fascia that connected his pelvis to his dorsal costae, the child would have appeared either prayerful or clinically autistic or both. Once the thigh’s anterior targets were achieved and touched with one or both lips, the upper portions of his genitals were simple and were protrusively kissed and passed over even as plans for the ilium and outer buttocks were in conception. After these achievements would come the more difficult and neck-intensive contortions required to access the inner buttocks, perineum and extreme upper groin. The boy had turned seven.

The special place where he pursued his strange but now newly mature objective was his room, which had wallpaper with a repeating jungle motif. The room’s second floor window yielded a view of the back yard’s tree. Light from the sun came through the tree at different angles and intensities at different times of day and illuminated different parts of the boy as he stood, sat, inclined or lay on the room’s carpet stretching and holding positions. His bedroom’s carpet was white shag with a furry, polar aspect that the boy’s father did not think went well with the wall’s repeating scheme of tiger, zebra, lion, palm but the father kept his feelings to himself.

Radical increase of the lips’ protrusive range requires systematic exercise of maxillary fascia such as the depressor septi, orbicular oris, depressor anguli oris, depressor labii inferioris and the buccinator, circumoral and risorius groups. Zygomatic muscles are superficially involved.

PRAXIS:

• Affix string to Weatherly button of at least 1.5” diameter borrowed from father’s second-best raincoat.

• Place button over upper and lower front teeth and enclose with lips.

• Pull string fully extended at 90° to face’s plane and pull with gradually increasing tension on end, using lips to resist pull.

• Hold for 20 seconds.

• Repeat.

• Repeat.





Sometimes his father sat on the floor outside the boy’s bedroom door with his back to the door. It’s not clear whether the boy ever heard him listening for movement in the room, although the wood of the door sometimes made a creaky sound when the father sat against it or stood back up in the hallway or shifted his seated position against the door. The boy was in there stretching and holding contorted positions for extraordinary periods of time. The father was a somewhat nervous man with a rushed, fidgety manner that always lent him an air of imminent departure. He had extensive entrepreneurial activities and was in motion much of the time. His place in most people’s mental album was provisional, with something like a dotted line around it; the image of someone saying something friendly over his shoulder as he made for an exit. Most clients found the father made them nervous. He was at his most effective on the phone.

By age eight, the child’s long-term goal was beginning to affect his physical development. His teachers remarked changes in posture and gait. The boy’s smile, which appeared by now constant because of the circumlabial hypertrophy’s effects on the circumoral musculature, looked unusual also: both rigid and overbroad, and somehow, in one Social Studies teacher’s evaluative phrase, ‘age inappropriate.’

FACTS:

• Italian stigmatist Padre Pio carried bloodless wounds, which penetrated the left hand and both feet medially throughout his lifetime.

• The Umbrian St. Veronica Giuliani presented with wounds in one hand as well as in her side, which wounds were observed to open and close on command.

• The 18th century holy woman Giovanna Solimani permitted pilgrims to insert special keys in her hand’s wounds and to turn them, reportedly facilitating those clients’ own recovery from rationalist despair.

• According to both St. Bonaventure and Thomas de Chilano, St. Francis of Assisi’s manual stigmata included baculiform masses of what presented as hardened black flesh extrudant from both volar planes. If and when pressure was applied to a palm’s so-called ‘nail,’ a hardened black rod of flesh would immediately protrude from the back of the hand just exactly as if a real so-called nail were passing through the hand.

And yet, fact:

• Hands lack the anatomical mass required to support the weight of an adult human. Both Roman legal texts and modern examinations of 1st century skeletons confirm that classical crucifixion required nails to be driven through the subject’s wrists, not his hands, hence the ‘necessarily simultaneous truth and falsity of the stigmata’ that existential theologist E.M. Cioran explicates in his 1937 Lacrimi si Sfînti, the same monograph in which he refers to the human heart as ‘God’s open wound.’

Areas of the boy’s midsection from navel to xyphoid process at the cleft of his ribs alone comprised nineteen months of stretching and postural exercises, some of the more extreme of which must have been wildly painful. At this stage, advances in flexibility were now subtle to the point of being undetectable without extremely precise daily record keeping. Certain tensile limits in the flava, capsule and process ligaments of the neck and upper back were gently but persistently stretched, the boy’s chin placed to his chest at mid sternum and then slid incrementally down 1, sometimes 1.5 mm a day and this catatonic and/or meditative posture held for an hour or more.

In the summer, during his early morning routines, the tree outside the boy’s window filled with grackles and became busy with grackles coming and going, then as the sun rose the tree filled with the birds’ harsh sounds, tearing sounds, which as the boy sat cross-legged with his chin to his chest sounded through the window’s pane like rusty screws turning; some complexly stuck thing coming lose with a shriek. Past the tree were the foreshortened roofs of neighborhood homes and the fire hydrant and street sign of a cross street and the sixty-four identical low-sloped roofs of a townhouse development beyond the cross street and, past the development, just at the horizon, the edges of the verdant cornfields that began at the city limits. In late summer the fields’ green was more sallow and later in the fall there was merely sad stubble and in the winter the fields’ bare earth looked like nothing so much as just what it was.

A Bengali holy man known to followers as Prahran Sahta II underwent periods of meditative chanting during which his eyes exited their sockets and ascended to float above his head connected only by their dura mater cords and thereupon underwent (the eyes did), floating above the holy man’s head, rhythmic stylized rotary movements described by western witnesses as evocative of dancing four-faced Shivas, of charmed snakes, of interwoven genetic helices, of the counterpointed figure-eight orbits of the Milky Way and Andromeda galaxies around one another at the perimeter of the Local Group or of all four at the same time.

Nor was it ever established precisely why this boy decided to devote himself to being able to press his lips to every square inch of his own body. It is not clear even that he conceived of the objective as an achievement in the conventional sense. He did not read Ripley and had never even heard of the Brothers McWhorter. Certainly it was no kind of stunt nor any kind of self-evection; this is verified. The boy had no conscious wish to ‘transcend’ anything. If someone had asked him, the boy would have said only that he’d decided he wanted to press his lips to every last square micrometer of his own individual body. He would not have been able to say more than this. Conceits or conception of his own physical inaccessibility to himself (as we are all of us inaccessible to ourselves and can, for example, press our lips to parts of one another which we cannot begin even to approach, lip wise, on ourselves) or of the boy’s complete determination apparently to pierce that veil of inaccessibility—to be in some idiosyncratic way self-contained and -sufficient, fully available to himself—these were beyond the range of his consciousness. He was only a child.

His lips touched the upper aureoles of his left and right nipples in the autumn of his tenth year. The lips by this time were markedly large and protrusive. Part of his daily disciplines were tedious button and string exercises designed to promote hypertrophy of the avicularis muscles. The ability to extend his pursed lips as much, by age nine, as 11.4 cm had often been the difference between achieving part of his thorax and not. It had been the avicularis muscles more than any outstanding advances in vertebral hygiene that had permitted him to access the rear areas of his scrotum and substantial portions of the creases between his scrotum and inner thighs before he had even turned nine. These areas had been touched, tagged on the four-sided anatomical chart inside his personal ledger, then washed clean of ink and forgotten. The boy’s tendency was to forget each site once he had pressed his lips to it as if the establishment of its accessibility made the site henceforth unreal for him and the site now in some sense existed only on the four-faced chart.

His mid and upper back were the first large areas of radical, perhaps impossible unavailability to his own lips, presenting challenges to flexibility and discipline that occupied a vast percentage of his inner-life in grades five and six, and ahead, of course, like the falls at a long river’s end, lay the unimaginable prospects of achieving the back of his neck, the 8 cm just below the chin’s mentalic point, the galea of his scalp’s back and crown, the forehead and zygomatic ridge, the ears, nose, eyes, as well as the paradoxical ding an sich of his lips themselves, accessing which appeared to be like asking a blade to cut itself. These sites occupied a near-mythic place in the overall agenda. The boy revered them in such a way as to place them almost beyond the range of conscious intent. The boy was not by nature a worrier (unlike himself, his father thought) but the inaccessibility of these last sites seemed so radically titanic that it was as if their cast shadow fell across all the slow progress up toward his clavicle in the front and lumbar curvature in the rear that occupied his twelfth year alive, darkening the entire project; tenebrist shadows the boy chose to see as lending the enterprise a somber dignity rather than any kind of futility or pathos. He did not yet know how but he believed, as he approached puberty, that his head would be his. He would find a way to access all of himself in the end. He possessed nothing that anyone could ever call doubt inside.


FROM - (& thank you-)

THE SUPERGALACTIC DODO HAS ARRIVED

(& - DON'T MESS WITH THE SUPERGALACTIC RATTLER!!)

(& WHAT IS THE LATEST NEWS FOR OWL & TIGER NOW THAT THE SUPERGALACTIC DODO & THE RATTLER ARE IN THEIR MAGICAL TIME TRAVELING CLAWS/PAWS?? WILL THE SUPERGALACTIC DODO BE LIBERATED ONCE & FOR ALL?? ALL TIME- AS IN ONE CHANCE?? WHAT EXACTLY WILL HAPPEN??? WILL THE MAGICAL VENOM OF THE SUPERGALACTIC RATTLER CLEANSE THE MASSES OR- KILL THEM!!!!!????????!!? WILL THE FAKE DODO'S (FAT HEART = A FAKE DODO) KEEP TURNING EVERYTHING INTO ANTI QUANTUM & FACT DESTROYING NIHILISTIC, -'GOD WORSHIPPING' TRASH?? WHERE WILL THEY TIME TRAVEL TO NEXT??? IF THERE IS A NEXT???!!! COMING SOON!) LUMPY ONTOLOGIES LUMPY ONTOLOGY HERE WE COME

Amit Goswami, Quantum Physics & Consciousness "we can make sense of the world only if we base the world on consciousness."


"The observer is the observed" quoted by Amit from Krishnamurti.


"Dance of the ego & quantum self." "Movement of the individual & the whole."

THE 'CHICAGO ART SCENE'

A long over due letter to the (Chicago's) 'artistic ethersphere',

-

"Postmodern irony, hip cynicism, a hatred that winks & nudges you & pretends it's just kidding." - David Foster Wallace


THOUGH I AM ALLIED WITH SOME TRULY BRILLIANT LOCAL- ARTISTS & WRITERS, I HAVE NOTHING TO DO- WITH 'THE CHICAGO ART SCENE' IT'S FAR TOO GOSSIPY-, SHOCKINGLY ABUSIVE (CRIMINAL..), HYPOCRITICAL-, SADISTIC, ELITIST, INSENSITIVE, SELF ABSORBED, IGNORANT, IRRITATING- "we can have critical discourse on Lady Gaga as performance art." COMPETITIVE, BACKSTABBING, IMMATURE, DISRESPECTFUL-, NAUSEATINGLY FULL OF USELESS FACTS (& non facts) & RHETORIC-

&, FAR TOO NIGHTMARISHLY TRENDY FOR ME TO STOMACH.

WITH THIS IN MIND- ANYONE FROM THE 'CHICAGO ART SCENE' WHO CLAIMS SOME KIND OF 'AWARENESS' OR 'SOME SORT OF ASSOCIATION WITH ME'- HAS LIKELY NEVER SPENT MORE THAN AN HOUR IN MY PRESENCE & THEREFORE IS PART OF THE 'ONE DIMENSIONAL- SCENE' (MARCUSE) OF VICIOUSLY SUCCESS OBSESSED SCENESTERS OR BULLYING MANIPULATORS & LIARS AS OUTLINED ABOVE-.

MOST IMPORTANTLY- THIS 'CHICAGO ART SCENE' IS SORROWFULLY ARTLESS, BUT THAT IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU'VE GOT HALF CONSCIOUS & VIOLENT ATTILLA'S CALLING THEMSELVES 'ARTISTS' AS THE 'STASI OFFICERS' OF THE 'CHICAGO ART ($$$) SCENE'.

ANY- IN DEPTH, RATIONAL & FACTUAL INFORMATION ABOUT MY INTERACTIONS WITH OTHERS & OTHER ARTISTS/FRIENDS WHO I RESPECT & ADMIRE (PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY KNOW WHO- I AM, PRESENT & FUTURE CONTEXT_
) CAN BE FOUND AT http://artvolume1.wordpress.com/.

I POST THIS BLOG/INFORMATION BECAUSE IT'S THE TRUTH, & BECAUSE ENOUGH OF A DECADE HAS PASSED FOR THE MAJORITY OF 'CHICAGO ART SCENE PEOPLE' TO KN0W THAT WHAT I SAY IS UNFORTUNATELY, A WELL KNOWN FACT- & BECAUSE IT NEEDS TO BE SAID, EVEN IN A RESPECTFULLY VAGUE SENSE.

IS ED PASCHKE TURNING IN HIS GRAVE?

IT'S LIKELY.


-


"I am not one of those weak-spirited, sappy people who want to be liked by all the people around them.

I don’t care if people hate my guts; I assume most of them do. The important question is whether they are in a position to do anything about it.

My affections, being concentrated over a few people, are not spread all over Hell in a vile attempt to placate sulky, worthless shits."

- William Seward Burroughs

The Culture of Disbelieving

How can one create from the complexity of human experience & the unique bonds that necessitate such in such a one dimensional world? STRUGGLE?
-
We often fail what we believe in, to manage our insecurities, agendas, to get our way. As well as helping in perpetuating consumer culture.
-
Freedom of ideas, speech & expression has everything- to do with the evolution of critical thought.
-
We are too commercialized, pornographied, dumbed down, & blindly sexist towards both- genders & we misunderstand & abuse our thinkers & artists.
-
We take communication for granted & sometimes it's actually an incredibly hard interaction & process for anyone to mutually achieve.
-
Indifference is humanity's scourge & terror.
-
"'self' as taboo-.."
"what kind of hell is that..?"

"There is nothing worse, than self as taboo..."

Self as Taboo - Marcuse
-
"En effet vol ma foi, j'ai eu la bonne, rare foi, la foi tres utile, mais je n'ai pas foi gauche. Bled loin."
-



All excerpts from work & 'Our Culture of Disbelieving'- by, Amy Marina Denes

Typed up excerpt from Human Destructiveness, by Anthony Storr


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Death Instinct.

"The use of the term "instinct", by both Schilder and Freud is anachronistic, because it suggests that aggression is an innate drive requiring periodic discharge.

As I pointed out earlier, no one now thinks of aggression in this way. However, if one makes allowance for his old - fashioned terminology, Freud's view that aggression & self preservation are connected is in line with what I have argued thus far.

Freud considered that aggression was derived from the so-called "death instinct" being redirected toward the external world.

Very few analysts, with the exception of Melanie Klein , have accepted Freud's concept of a "death instinct", but since Freud is so centrally important in any consideration of human motivation, a brief explanation of what he meant is required.
Freud originally regarded aggression as a sadistic aspect of the sexual instinct, a primitive form of dominating or mastering the sexual object. Love in this form and at this preliminary stage (pregenital) is hardly to be distinguished from hate in its attitude toward the object. Not until the genital organization is established does a love become the opposite of hate.

Hate, as a relation to objects, is older than love.
It derives from the narcissistic ego's primordial repudiation of the external world with outpouring of stimuli. As an expression of the reaction of unpleasure evoked by objects, it always, remains in intimate relation with the self -preservative instincts; so that sexual & ego- instincts can readily develop an antithesis which repeats that of love & hate.

When the ego- instincts dominate the sexual function, as is the case at the stage of the sadistic- anal organization, they impart the qualities of hate to the instinctual aim as well. The First World War may have influenced Freud in finally accepting the idea that aggression is independent of sex. (cont'd page 18)"


-



Is it....?

“The web of domination has become the web of Reason itself, and this society is fatally entangled in it.” - Marcuse

Humanity is the manifestation of an insatiable hunger for a variety of assimilations - you are only dangerous, simply, because you are real. - A.M.D

-

NOTHING

An excerpt from a short story by A.M.D.



☎ "What is her film about??"

"It's a 3 hour- time lapse film which is filmed from the roof of a building, a mosque actually- in Baghdad, in the center of war torn Iraq..."

( NOTE: "General David Petraeus, is said to be a “big supporter” of bringing Disneyland to Baghdad." )

"What happens??"

"There is no sound- except for when something violent occurs the film returns to a normal speed, for example a boy got shot in the head riding his bike into spontaneous cross fire, then you had sound.. When soldiers die the film slows to normal speed as well.. But then after the violence quells, it speeds up again.."

"Who shot the boy??"

"U.S soldiers... & it's a bit shocking how quickly the 'situations', or injuries & deaths, get 'cleaned up' with the film returning to its rapid fast forward pace.. I saw two people die in exactly the same spot & I don't think anyone would have realized this if it were not for her film.."

"What is it called??"

"Nothing."

"??? What a title.."

"In her interview, what did she say it was about??"

"Nothing.."

"Who did she say was in the film??"

"Nobody.."

"??? - Did you watch the entire film??"

"Parts of it.. For some reason, right now at least- it can't be a full screening.."

"- h u hm -"

"Does it have an ending, did you get a sense of the ending??"

"I've heard from others that at the end of the film all there is- is a long written message to the Iraqi people, it glows on the screen for about 10 minutes & in complete silence.."

"What does it say do you know?? "

"I've got it partially written down on notes at home, taken from the interview- funny thing about memory, anyhow- something along the lines of "we never should have been there - or attacked your country, invade you for oil", blah, blah to the world & more horrible facts & so on....."

"What did you think of the film, the parts of it that you watched??"

"It scared the shit out of me- .."

"Why??"

"I don't know - why do you think, perhaps the surprising number of innocent people on 'both sides' whatever than means- who die right in front of your eyes??"

"How was she able to film it??"

"She robotically controlled a camera from the top of a mosque - & it was filmed over a four year period leading up to now.."

"Must have been hell to edit!"

"She says that nothing is cut out.. It's fast forward- time lapse - it gets blurred & frantic, in its moments of slowing down you get an increasingly nauseating inkling that soon it will stop.. The majority of the film is when it stops & that is too many times to count.."

"What is too many times to count.."

"I told you... - All the people that get murdered in front of your eyes.."


( 5 - 17 - 2010 )

- - -

Once Again for The Possible Worlds

- - -

“The web of domination has become the web of Reason itself, and this society is fatally entangled in it.”

“Obscenity is a moral concept in the verbal arsenal of the establishment, which abuses the term by applying it, not to expressions of its own morality but to those of another.”

Herbert Marcuse

JOURNAL - HOW DOES EVERYTHING- FEEL ( INDIVIDUATION )

"Imagination is more important than knowledge." Albert Einstein

"through rows of bowing hissing Birch
they dreamt
the sun smoldering
beyond
each exclamation of star
a trail
of cosmos
the hanging
of breaths
winding around intervals

as they search the moment
it pries, them loose"

( Excerpt from The Paper Mistress, by, Amy Marina Denes )

-

How does a tree feel?

& how does gender feel?

& inveritably almost any circumstance- to access & be the other/s.

What is the significance of the roles we play & act out?

Self?

What is it to define?
Decode?
See?
To be local, universal.

Hegemonic.


How does it feel to think? To process, weigh & react. To doubt, to be solvent..

We are in a time where we finally have the tools to do much more elaborate & conscious work on testing & expanding our awareness of the origins of everything, exactly where- everything (food, clothing, shelter, the human psyche, origins of psychology, 'the spirit', the natural world, energy, art & creativity, ideas- etc ad infinitum) comes from & especially as of late, where war- comes from, how it is created & produced, what war is for- & why- we have wars..


But still, we are failing to ask ourselves where- all our functioning ideas, the materials & systems we depend on & perpetuate originate from.. We fail to go against convention, in order to create & found a new & far more sustainable system of ethics & 'morality'...

We need to further encourage & examine the free & creative dissemination of our ideas, perceptions & concepts, our understanding of the natural world on which we depend.

Are we so sure of the constructs of reality we create & act upon?

These are complicated evolving questions, with equally complicated & diverse answers- & possibilities,
& they always will be. Evolution predicates the process of the discovery, organization & realization of ideas & acts.

At our disposal, is the beauty of focus & observation & at times a panopticon of focus' & observations.

One might assume that trust (a most vital- human need) is an emphasis on the known, the given, the consistent & understood-. An engaging & evolving reciprocity & fruition of trust-.

There might be some program- for human understanding, there.

Individuality is born in the group.. (&, the reader to this journal must know- that I am grouped & allied with some truly- extraordinary & inspiring individuals.. Il bocca al lupo to you..)

So, why do we often go against understanding- ( & new understanding ) & towards any other amorphous & superficial re- definition which simply leads us back to the same arbitrary & exhausted questions?

What is it to ask who- someone is as an individual?

For an example- let's say Dostoevsky's 'Idiot' "in a world obsessed with money, power, and sexual conquest, a sanatorium is the only place for a saint." No individual is an island, well, maybe J.D Salinger, but he had some- reasons...

A 'saint'.. - An island... Hmm..

&, what are the reasons why we struggle with & against being
& in fleshing out the life of an individual, self & identity?

What is it to define oneself outside of the expectations & limiting perimeters of society?

Politics?
Gender-. Etc.

What about believing & solely trusting in all one's ever known? - (or being forced to -.)

Really..

What is it to look 'inside' oneself if it's possible. Inside of our complex, mental, emotional, creative & destructive origins & places of human drive- motive- desire-..

To seriously examine & take a look inside of our own motives as individuals, our influence upon others & the world..

To hold this psychological mirror up, & as Habermas says- "to be more or less reasonable, to give answers to the questions- why did you say that, why did you do that"..
The ability to reflect on ones drivers & ones need to engage.

Perhaps, a lot of our 'problems' (life is a problem) stem from our inability, or lack of desire in facing or answering these questions, as if it's somehow futile, painful or impossible for us to find a 'destination' or a 'destiny' in individuation.

A calling of the human spirit, freedom of the psyche & the will of the self.
A willingness to attempt to understand & confront individuation as the ultimate drive....
?

At present, I think we can agree that self confrontation (self- analysis, skepticism) is not- a popular activity.

It's expected then to suppress these powerful hidden drives. Perhaps, throw them into a cloud of repressed assumptions, desire & shame, further our self deception.
Yes. & how absurd is that?

Self, other, & origin- as taboo.-

& to then choose- to live out the design of a proudly hardening, inaccessible, limited & artless self.

Yet, if these drives for love & individuation are there, then what is their use?
What do these drives mean?
How can one speak for the human experience, attempt to know it & appeal to it, if one is not actually living the 'human' experience?

Why is this a very real dilemma?

Is the discovery of, creation from & release of- these expressions too much mental & emotional work for the average individual?

Is there a program to be followed....

Or does everything really just come down to survival, a self absorption that seeks to thrive in a vicious Darwinian sense, or is there something more?

When anyone- is forced into the margins, (yet again)
in front of us, is that great & ever looming desire to individuate, to organize-.. Make sense. Originate.
Within every individual (& many would say every living thing & space itself), are these desires, ever ready to organize..


(Jorn Asger painting, Paris by night, 1959. Defiguration.)

But for what?

An often hidden prime, is- to relate to & create from this drive for individuation..

To arrive.


Now, love as individuation's engine would be far too limiting, or cliche- or- is it.. ?

This noble & nurturing force ironically drives our self limiting needs, what is 'popular & fashionable' or 'politically correct or incorrect', blah- blah- etc, etc. Seemingly relegated to forever be attached to a lonely & speechless wet nurse to care for, quiet & soothe our lucid, dramatic & profound emotional & mental complexities.



Love seems to be a quality & energy, that by 'cultural, commercial, social & political standards & laws'- finds itself incessantly abused, always escaping us & inevitably, defeated.(Marcuse, One Dimensional Man)...

& what of a humanist universal love, a desire to understand & nurture the human condition, to leave ourselves open & vulnerable enough- to fully, rationally, completely & willingly, register with & learn from others & the world in any way possible. To courageously ally with reality & risk.

To be fallible & culpable. To face, realize & account for the effects of our own irrationality, error & cruelty.

Why has love for anything-, especially others, become an obligatory & over romanticized terror? Or an act of tiring & inconsequential labor- & work?

Is it really only such a personal, rare, ephemeral, illusory & coincidental feeling?
An aimless, forbidden & dispossessed universal guide?

Who taught us that this is 'true'?

Interestingly, love is also a form which often separates us when we have not the courage to realize it.
Unrealizable? Love has countless- nurturing forms & potentials - whether it's a mother breast feeding her infant, a boy carefully folding a paper plane, a surgeon performing heart surgery on her patient, a student thoughtfully finishing his thesis paper, an artist's hand on a thriving & symbolic painting, in the completion of a sustainable farm in South America. Or most importantly- the way life just erupts out of the earth & falls from the sky to give us something miraculous & tangible to experience.

One could go on & on. Love affirms, unites & allies us. It is a dwelling, a place. A uniting human understanding which is outside of the realms of exclusivity.

Love is the quite useful & stimulating, emotional & mental ecstatics that come with being realizable.

How could we ever- take this great power for granted?

Am I really being presumptuous in observing our lack? It's battle?
It's attack?

Love for humanity & others as a rational, vital, sophisticated & elegant force, has it's work, artists & audiences, yes- absolutely,
but such small & disconnected groups... However robust we are always somehow outnumbered..

We have seen this drive enter & escape us like an erratic, desperate dance & pattern, with countless hopeful incarnations, possibilities & failures, in the story of human history.

& then we long to just sit on our 'supposed' laurels?

Is it about success then.

Is that it.


Success, as some ability (conspiring) to prove that we each may have some kind of authority over each other.

"I successfully rule over you, in some way..." (Hah??)- Isn't this a condition much more worthy of disbelieving?

Can't we distinguish ourselves more often- with awareness, skepticism & empathy instead of, expectation, paranoia & 'status'?

Is it a weakness then...-

For.. ?

Mechanically liberated, I suppose- ........., from the empathy (reason) we secretly strive to discover & work from.

All of us painfully await a chance to emit, our sounds, nature, being. To join with something true- & greater than ourselves. Unite.

Emerge & become. BE. Be as in being to be with others & fully of self.

No one can accomplish anything- entirely alone. There is no 'moment' for all moments are future & this requires that the future be now. That awareness, be now.

We all seem to wait & wait to visit & actually face the broken & seeping life heart of the Gulf of Mexico (& The Yellow Sea ) & think- & actually do something about the impossible misery we- create & have created.

We put off falling out of war- to grow to despise human fear & hatred. To stop, to just stop killing- as a way to solve our problems.

We ruminate endlessly on the possibility of starting to attempt to effect change in ours & others lives in great & small ways, by recycling, volunteering, taking long walks, visiting elderly neighbors with news, spending one's free time writing a book, etc.

Human beings have a repressed passion, a yearning inherent in their natures & in their mental & emotional lives to find, experience & incite the love of humanity into a greater way of being..
To be led into a greater possibility of being.

To question self & being.

To love, is to invite- inquisition. Originate.

It's this simple... - I had a 60 or 70 year old or so, healthy & towering, moss green pine outside my front bay windows & some angry & disgruntled asshole- literally wasted money in order to chop down, grind up & throw away this pine in order to 'groom & beautify the courtyard'- ( yesterday ).

Understand- this pine was not diseased, sick or dying, it was not overgrown, its roots were no problem, it never grew into the windows, it was simply a gentle & beautiful pine.

It had consistently kept me company through many summers & winters.
It was life & held life, bird & squirrel nests, it also held my meditations through early morning sun rays & cups of tea... I watched it withstand pelting summer storms & every winter it would become cloaked in fresh & lofty glittering boughs of snow...

Year round it was pure & green & there was always life in its boughs which brought me comfort & respite in times of stress & in the long winter months.

It perfumed my home, it brought me a consistent, uncommon, mysterious, & graceful companionship.

On clear nights, like an angel, it pointed towards the stars, & moon.

It was reduced to something considered useless, out of place & unwanted, removed & done away with, as if it had never been. & as if it never should have been.

I'll tell you- when I saw a robin & other small birds & squirrels which used to live in this pine's nurturing branches return to it's former dominion,
hopping & scrambling in the dirt in confusion at its absence-, I was so moved that I started to cry.

I cried so hard. It was a stendhal effect & much more.. I did not expect to feel as confused as the pine's inhabitants, but I felt a hole in my life & my heart & that hole is still there, embedded in my history.

& it means something-.

& I felt an even deeper urge to realize all the needlessness in the world, & an even deeper urge to understand my love & my belonging to other living things & my relationships with all that surrounds me on this short, mysterious & delicate plane of existence.

For better or worse, love & it's transformative powers is a willingness to find- solidarity (& self) among all things. It just, is.

It's not the known that discloses us, it's the unknown- that discloses us. It is all the happening of life that dwells beneath all our surfaces which rises up into experience, & truth.

To destroy the possibility of discovering & understanding the unknown, is a cosmic crime. It's unoriginal & unintelligible, a perversion of possibility, reality & the truth,
it's vacant & loveless.

& anything loveless & needless is just brutally & predictably banal.

& will probably, die that way.


Journal by, Amy Marina Denes


( Asger Jorn, Poussin,1962. Defiguration.)

-


( For the 'earth shaman', my pine, thank you. )( CLICK )

-

The RACH

-
"But deconstructionism tells us that each time we see the quilt (or encounter some similar object that can be seen in more than one way) then the other pattern is obscured from our sight. "

From: Derrida's 'differAnce'

All Kind of Flowers -
Yegelle Tezeta - & BACH

WILDERNESS

"This is a heart that knows its way in a wilderness of desires."

-

NO BUT'S.

Being extraordinary is as simple as doing the right thing.

DO NOT- EAT YOUR HANDS.

Вы можете съесть ваши руки и выжить, чтобы сказать рассказ? Должны быть много историй, но увы, ничто, чтобы сказать рассказ.. Не ешьте ваши руки!!! By, Amy M. Denes

LOOK AT YOURSELF

( CLICK ) -> 1,000,000 Strong Against Offshore Drilling

Peter Orlovsky - R.I.P - July 8, 1933- May 30, 2010

FRIST POEM

A rainbow comes pouring into my window, I am electrified.
Songs burst from my breast, all my crying stops, mistory fills
the air.
I look for my shues under my bed.
A fat colored woman becomes my mother.
I have no false teeth yet. Suddenly ten children sit on my lap.
I grow a beard in one day.
I drink a hole bottle of wine with my eyes shut.
I draw on paper and I feel I am two again. I want everybody to
talk to me.
I empty the garbage on the tabol.
I invite thousands of bottles into my room, June bugs I call them.
I use the typewritter as my pillow.
A spoon becomes a fork before my eyes.
Bums give all their money to me.
All I need is a mirror for the rest of my life.
My frist five years I lived in chicken coups with not enough
bacon.
My mother showed her witch face in the night and told stories of
blue beards.
My dreams lifted me right out of my bed.
I dreamt I jumped into the nozzle of a gun to fight it out with a
bullet.
I met Kafka and he jumped over a building to get away from me.
My body turned into sugar, poured into tea I found the meaning
of life
All I needed was ink to be a black boy.
I walk on the street looking for eyes that will caress my face.
I sang in the elevators believing I was going to heaven.
I got off at the 86th floor, walked down the corridor looking for
fresh butts.
My comes turns into a silver dollar on the bed.
I look out the window and see nobody, I go down to the street,
look up at my window and see nobody.
So I talk to the fire hydrant, asking "Do you have bigger tears
then I do?"
Nobody around, I piss anywhere.
My Gabriel horns, my Gabriel horns: unfold the cheerfulies,
my gay jubilation.

Nov. 24th, 1957, Paris
SECOND POEM

Morning again, nothing has to be done,
maybe buy a piano or make fudge.
At least clean the room up for sure like my farther I've done flick
the ashes & butts over the bed side on the floor.
But frist of all wipe my glasses and drink the water
to clean the smelly mouth.
A nock on the door, a cat walks in, behind her the Zoo's baby
elephant demanding fresh pancakes-I cant stand these
hallucinations aney more.
Time for another cigerette and then let the curtains rise, then I
knowtice the dirt makes a road to the garbage pan
No ice box so a dried up grapefruit.
Is there any one saintly thing I can do to my room, paint it pink
maybe or instal an elevator from the bed to the floor,
maybe take a bath on the bed?
Whats the use of liveing if I cant make paradise in my own
room-land?
For this drop of time upon my eyes
like the endurance of a red star on a cigerate
makes me feel life splits faster than sissors.
I know if I could shave myself the bugs around my face would
disappear forever.
The holes in my shues are only temporary, I understand that.
My rug is dirty but whose that isent?
There comes a time in life when everybody must take a piss in
the sink -here let me paint the window black for a minute.
Thro a plate & brake it out of naughtiness-or maybe just
innocently accidentally drop it wile walking around the
tabol.
Before the mirror I look like a sahara desert gost,
or on the bed I resemble a crying mummey hollaring for air,
or on the tabol I feel like Napoleon.
But now for the main task of the day - wash my underwear -
two months abused - what would the ants say about that?
How can I wash my clothes - why I'd, I'd, I'd be a woman if I did
that.
No, I'd rather polish my sneakers than that and as for the floor
its more creative to paint it then clean it up.
As for the dishes I can do that for I am thinking of getting a job in
a lunchenette.
My life and my room are like two huge bugs following me
around the globe.
Thank god I have an innocent eye for nature.
I was born to remember a song about love - on a hill a butterfly
makes a cup that I drink from, walking over a bridge of
flowers.

Dec. 27th, 1957, Paris
My Bed is Covered Yellow

My bed is covered yellow - Oh Sun, I sit on you
Oh golden field I lay on you
Oh money I dream of you
More, More, cried the bed - talk to me more -
Oh bed that taked the weight of the world -
all the lost dreams laid on you
Oh bed that grows no hair, that cannot be fucked
or can be fucked
Oh bed crumbs of all ages spiled on you
Oh yellow bed march to the sun whear yr journey will be done
Oh 50 lbs. of bed that takes 400 more lbs-
how strong you are
Oh bed, only for man & not for animals
yellow bed when will the animals have equal rights?
Oh 4 legged bed off the floor forever built
Oh yellow bed all the news of the world
lay on you at one time or another

1957, Paris
Snail Poem

Make my grave shape of heart so like a flower be free aired
& handsome felt,
Grave root pillow, tung up from grave & wigle at
blown up clowd.
Ear turnes close to underlayer of green felt moss & sound
of rain dribble thru this layer
down to the roots that will tickle my ear.
Hay grave, my toes need cutting so file away
in sound curve or
Garbage grave, way above my head, blood will soon
trickle in my ear -
no choise but the grave, so cat & sheep are daisey
turned.
Train will tug my grave, my breath hueing gentil vapor
between weel & track.
So kitten string & ball, jumpe over this mound so
gently & cutely
So my toe can curl & become a snail & go curiousely
on its way.

1958 NYC







- PETER ORLOVSKY

MICRO INTERVIEW WITH MICHAEL STEVENS OF SUICIDE PRESS

Image: William Burroughs beside Sphinx, Metropolitan Museum of Art, Fall 1953. Copyright Allen Ginsburg Trust.

-

MICRO INTERVIEW IN THREE QUESTIONS, WITH BIBLIOGRAPHER, AUTHOR & FOUNDER OF SUICIDE PRESS.


I. You are right that people's quotes from Burroughs tend to be tired, overused &/or become cliche- what are some of your more unheard of Burroughs Quotes???

Michael Stevens: I have three for you,"Only those for whom the knowledge is intended will find it."

"Watch what everyone else is doing and don't do it."

"To speak is to lie."


II. You & Burroughs exchanged letters & then eventually met.. What was your first impression of Burroughs?

Michael Stevens: We exchanged letters concerning the Stendhal Syndrome, & then out of the blue he told me how to get rid of a headache by using acupressure on your pinky finger... My first impression? I don't really know how I felt, I was overwhelmed.


III. Where can we find your amazing book?

Michael Stevens: SUICIDEPRESS.COM


THANK YOU FOR THE MEMORIES MICHAEL.



( Image of Stevens )
Michael Stevens: The pleasure was all mine.


Look forward to a future & extended, interactive interview with Michael at ARTVOLUME1.ORG


© MICRO INTERVIEWS 2010 - by, Amy M Denes

OCELLUS

"I am not one of those weak-spirited, sappy people who want to be liked by all the people around them.

I don’t care if people hate my guts; I assume most of them do. The important question is whether they are in a position to do anything about it.

My affections, being concentrated over a few people, are not spread all over Hell in a vile attempt to placate sulky, worthless shits."

William Seward Burroughs

-

"Fascists seek to organize a nation on corporatist perspectives; values; and systems such as the political system and the economy."

-
( CLICK )
MARIN MARAIS
-
suicidepress.com


"The only thing that gets Homo sapiens up off his dead ass is a foot up on it."
-The Place of Dead Roads (If you see this warning, chances are you are losing my interest or it's ----never---- to return..)

COMMISSIONER OF SEWERS

( TANGIERS )

( CLICK ) ABOUT CUTUPS IN LONDON

( CLICK ) WILLIAM SEWARD BURROUGHS

WOMAN DEPICTED AS SERPENT

OUROBOROS -

Antiheroine -



Future of the Universe and Possible Death -

KAFKA LAUGHED SO HARD WHILE WRITING, IT DISTURBED HIS NEIGHBORS

Supporting the Intellectual Life of a Democratic Society -

The Orinoco Eel

Gymnotus
from your arching back
springs a tactile & invisible scatter
spreading phosphene webs
shattering & striking coals of dreaming with silver

Have you touched the chimney
Brought your eyes to fill with smoke?

Spike your head above
winding Orinoco
oxygen to nourish your charge
sachs to spit
unheard
Sensing spines that drive & surround
you are kept & bolt to & fro
while a watch cannot keep up
with its ticks & its refrains

& none can explain.






Short poem from a 2005 Catalogue, by, Amy M Denes.

The Orinoco Eel.

EMPIRE OF ILLUSION- DARK VOYEURISM & THE OBAMA BRAND

Chris Hedges: Empire of Illusion



"The greatest danger that besets us does not come from believers or atheists; it comes from those who, under the guise of religion, science or reason, imagine that we can free ourselves from the limitations of human nature and perfect the human species."
(From: I Don't Believe in Atheists)



"In the beginning war looks and feels like love.

But unlike love it gives nothing in return but an ever-deepening dependence, like all narcotics, on the road to self-destruction.

It does not affirm but places upon us greater and greater demands.
It destroys the outside world until it is hard to live outside war's grip.

It takes a higher and higher dose to achieve any thrill. Finally, one ingests war only to remain numb."
(From: War Is a Force that Gives Us Meaning)



"Those who fail to exhibit positive attitudes, no matter the external reality, are seen as maladjusted and in need of assistance.
Their attitudes need correction.
Once we adopt an upbeat vision of reality, positive things will happen.

This belief encourages us to flee from reality when reality does not elicit positive feelings. These specialists in "happiness" have formulated something they call the "Law of Attraction."

It argues that we attract those things in life, whether it is money, relationships or employment, which we focus on.

Suddenly, abused and battered wives or children, the unemployed, the depressed and mentally ill, the illiterate, the lonely, those grieving for lost loved ones, those crushed by poverty, the terminally ill, those fighting with addictions, those suffering from trauma, those trapped in menial and poorly paid jobs, those whose homes are in foreclosure or who are filing for bankruptcy because they cannot pay their medical bills, are to blame for their negativity.

The ideology justifies the cruelty of unfettered capitalism, shifting the blame from the power elite to those they oppress.

And many of us have internalized this pernicious message, which in times of difficulty leads to personal despair, passivity and disillusionment."



"There are always people willing to commit unspeakable human atrocity in exchange for a little power and privilege."



"The split in America, rather than simply economic, is between those who embrace reason, who function in the real world of cause and effect, and those who, numbed by isolation and despair, now seek meaning in a mythical world of intuition, a world that is no longer reality-based, a world of magic."
(From: American Fascists: The Christian Right and the War On America)


"Inverted totalitarianism, unlike classical totalitarianism, does not revolve around a demagogue or charismatic leader. It finds expression in the anonymity of the Corporate State. It purports to cherish democracy, patriotism, and the Constitution while manipulating internal levers."
(From: Empire of Illusion: The End of Literacy and the Triumph of Spectacle)


"The enduring attraction of war is this: Even with its destruction and carnage it can give us what we long for in life. It can give us purpose, meaning, a reason for living."
(From: War Is a Force that Gives Us Meaning)



"Violence is a disease, a disease that corrupts all who use it regardless of the cause. "

All quotes by — Chris Hedges

& - Arthur Miller Quote on Suffering and Psychoanalysis: ‘My argument with so much of psychoanalysis, is the preconception that suffering is a mistake, or a sign of weakness, or a sign even of illness.

When in fact, possibly the greatest truths we know, have come out of people’s suffering.

The problem is not to undo suffering, or to wipe it off the face of the earth, but to make it inform our lives, instead of trying to “cure” ourselves of it constantly, and avoid it, and avoid anything but that lobotomized sense of what they call “happiness”.

There’s too much of an attempt, it seems to me, to think in terms of controlling man, rather than freeing him – of defining him, rather than letting him go! It’s part of the whole ideology of this age, which is power-mad!"

THOSE IRRITATING WHITE MESSIAH FABLE FLICKS NEED TO BE STOPPED!

"It’s a pretty serviceable formula. Once a director selects the White Messiah fable, he or she doesn’t have to waste time explaining the plot because everybody knows roughly what’s going to happen.

The formula also gives movies a little socially conscious allure. Audiences like it because it is so environmentally sensitive. Academy Award voters like it because it is so multiculturally aware.

Critics like it because the formula inevitably involves the loincloth-clad good guys sticking it to the military-industrial complex."





IN WHAT IS ALWAYS FAR MORE IMPORTANT RECENT NEWS:
Evidence of Ancient Amazon Civilization Uncovered




"The discovery of the ruins of an ancient civilization in the upper Amazon basin overturns previously held beliefs that the area had always been uninhabited."

PS. WE HAVE BEEN 'AT WAR' FOR 9 FUCKING YEARS, THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE!!!
THOSE IRRITATING WHITE MESSIAH FABLE FLICKS NEED TO BE STOPPED!!!


Вы можете съесть ваши руки и выжить, чтобы сказать рассказ? Должны быть много историй, но увы, ничто, чтобы сказать рассказ.. Не ешьте ваши руки!!!

A.M.D