Wednesday, December 27, 2006

4 FRANCES KRUK









AMERICA IS DEAD. LONG LIVE AMERICAT.

Monday, December 18, 2006

m*aioWW!


I'm going to the United States of Americat for a period of 3 weeks. I may or may not be contactable Good giftmus, etc. 2007 awaits your destructions.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

fragilistic/sugar & shame

Sugar & Shame

I want sugar
But I shall never wear shame
And if you call that sophistry
Then what is love.

-Lisa Robertson – Debbie: An Epic

I was walking blind, not by love but by something like it I guess. Suddenly he moves lower and the other appears gesturing as if he wants me to suck him off, but, pre-empting it, comes, not on my face but on the gravel beside it. Hands, Gravel, face. 5) Folk singer Iris Dement tried to act interested, I wonder if she got my tapes: ‘Cmon now and say goodbye to our town’, etc., sung barely through tears at age 8. I don’t scream or do anything, I still don’t know why. I realise I have been sitting on sofas, in charis and policecars for hours with a soaking wet skirt. 13) Joanna Newsom was standing at a bar and overheard us say “I’m 99% sure that’s Joanna Newsom.” 14) The man that invented the Hoodie, in a bar in Hampstead. 2) Gillian Anderson, who played Agent Dana Scully in the X-Files and has surprisingly dry hands. Slow corrosion of something like dignity. Two men or were they boys younger than me me I was nineteen. You're afraid to stick out your chin and say 'life's a fact'. Gravel, hands, face. Tights were pulled down groping dumbly on the pavement. 1) Country singer Nanci Griffith who gave me a t-shirt at the Cambridge Folk festival in 1988 because I was sooooo cute. You call yourself a free spirit, a wild thing, and you're terrified somebody's going to stick you in a cage...well baby, you're already in that cage, you built it yourself, and it's not in Texas or out east it's wherever you go, because no matter where you go, you always end up running into yourself" Then they find the cat and they kiss, moon river plays and the camera pans out. Twenty minutes later I’m on the floor soaking wet, naket, gagging. I pick up the bits of my broken phone and wander. You got no guts. Later I drink sugary coffee wrapped in a blanket on my living room floor, watching the last five minutes of Breakfast at Tiffany’s on repeat: "Holly, I'm in love with you" "So what?" "So plenty! I love you, you belong to me." "No, people don't belong to each other. People do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anyone's got for real happiness. Four Policemen sit behind me, patiently watching me rewind the tape and them saying ‘um, we can call the woman police officer if you want.’ Nobody gives me the right response so I sit in the dark listening [Tori Amos]. 6) 90s Girl band Cleopatra pushed past me at a bar. I turn my head to look at the pieces of my phone cracked three feet away from me. I'm like cat here, we're a couple of no-name slobs, we belong to nobody and nobody belongs to us, we don't even belong to each other" blah blah blah "you know what's wrong with you, Miss...whoever you are? You're chicken. Gravel, hands, face. I was walking blind, not by love but something like it I guess. Credits Roll. 15) JH Prynne who shared his coffee with me at a party. There’s a car and everyone’s shouting. Gravel, hands, face. Gravel, hands, face. 3) Bux Fizz member and Record Breakers presenter Cheryl Baker who twice mistook me for a waitress at Loch Fynes seafood restaurant in Sevenoaks, Kent: - once in June 2000 and once in December 2002, where I told my dad that I was in love with a woman named Jess, and, on an unrelated note, he said that if I wanted to be an actress I should dress more neutrally. 7) Judi Dench was standing next to me that day. Behind which leap the dead whom we forget and walk over. 8) Mike Fielding from The Mighty Boosh, even smaller than usual that night. I won't let anybody put me in a cage." "I don't want to put you in a cage, I want to love you!" "It's the same thing!" "No, it's not...Holly..." "I'm not Holly! I'm not Lula May either...I don't know who I am. They joke that I am overweight. Hands, gravel, face. 10) Judi Dench smiled at me from across the room 11) Tori Amos told me that she LOVED London on the phone in 2004. 12) Holly Hunter, overwhelmed on Charing Cross Road. The peak of a cap digging into my forehead was a barrier between us as the other held my legs. I realise I smell and need a shower. 4) Athlete Kelly Holmes who scorned me. I put all my clothes in separate yellow bags marked EVIDENCE and wonder absently if anyone will judge me for wetting myself. Ominous hardness and resistance below. It was about 3am, saying down the phone “I’m afraid” half as a joke because I was about to walk down a place called ‘Rape Alley’. Not forgetting costcutter which looms over the estate neoning the houses with an orange I always wished was pink but not on this occasion because it closes at midnight. 9) Dermot Mulroney’s sister, who had a whirlwind holiday romance with my uncle. Hands, gravel, face. Suddenly he moves lower and the other appears gesturing as if he wants me to suck him off, but, pre-empting it, comes, not on my face but on the gravel beside it. You got no guts. The peak of a cap digging into my forehead was a barrier between us as the other held my legs. It was about 3am, saying down the phone “I’m afraid” half as a joke because I was about to walk down a place called ‘Rape Alley’. Gravel, hands, face. Not forgetting costcutter which looms over the estate neoning the houses with an orange I always wished was pink but not on this occasion because it closes at midnight. 3) Bux Fizz member and Record Breakers presenter Cheryl Baker who twice mistook me for a waitress at Loch Fynes seafood restaurant in Sevenoaks, Kent: - once in June 2000 and once in December 2002, where I told my dad that I was in love with a woman named Jess, and, on an unrelated note, he said that if I wanted to be an actress I should dress more neutrally. Two men or were they boys younger than me me I was nineteen. 5) Folk singer Iris Dement tried to act interested, I wonder if she got my tapes: ‘Cmon now and say goodbye to our town’, etc., sung barely through tears at age 8. There’s a car and everyone’s shouting. Ominous hardness and resistance below. I realise I smell and need a shower. 2) Gillian Anderson, who played Agent Dana Scully in the X-Files and has surprisingly dry hands. Gravel, hands, face. 6) 90s Girl band Cleopatra pushed past me at a bar. Hands, Gravel, face. 15) JH Prynne who shared his coffee with me at a party. I pick up the bits of my broken phone and wander. You call yourself a free spirit, a wild thing, and you're terrified somebody's going to stick you in a cage...well baby, you're already in that cage, you built it yourself, and it's not in Texas or out east it's wherever you go, because no matter where you go, you always end up running into yourself" Then they find the cat and they kiss, moon river plays and the camera pans out. People do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anyone's got for real happiness. 13) Joanna Newsom was standing at a bar and overheard us say “I’m 99% sure that’s Joanna Newsom.” 14) The man that invented the Hoodie, in a bar in Hampstead. Slow corrosion of something like dignity. I don’t scream or do anything, I still don’t know why. I won't let anybody put me in a cage." "I don't want to put you in a cage, I want to love you!" "It's the same thing!" "No, it's not...Holly..." "I'm not Holly! I'm not Lula May either...I don't know who I am. 12) Holly Hunter, overwhelmed on Charing Cross Road. 7) Judi Dench was standing next to me that day. Later I drink sugary coffee wrapped in a blanket on my living room floor, watching the last five minutes of Breakfast at Tiffany’s on repeat: "Holly, I'm in love with you" "So what?" "So plenty! I love you, you belong to me." "No, people don't belong to each other. 10) Judi Dench smiled at me from across the room 11) Tori Amos told me that she LOVED London on the phone in 2004. I put all my clothes in separate yellow bags marked EVIDENCE and wonder absently if anyone will judge me for wetting myself. 4) Athlete Kelly Holmes who scorned me. Credits Roll. Gravel, hands, face. You're afraid to stick out your chin and say 'life's a fact'. Four Policemen sit behind me, patiently watching me rewind the tape and them saying ‘um, we can call the woman police officer if you want.’ Nobody gives me the right response so I sit in the dark listening [Tori Amos]. 9) Dermot Mulroney’s sister, who had a whirlwind holiday romance with my uncle. Behind which leap the dead whom we forget and walk over. I realise I have been sitting on sofas, in charis and policecars for hours with a soaking wet skirt. 8) Mike Fielding from The Mighty Boosh, even smaller than usual that night. Gravel, hands, face. 1) Country singer Nanci Griffith who gave me a t-shirt at the Cambridge Folk festival in 1988 because I was sooooo cute. I turn my head to look at the pieces of my phone cracked three feet away from me. Twenty minutes later I’m on the floor soaking wet, naket, gagging. Tights were pulled down groping dumbly on the pavement. They joke that I am overweight. I'm like cat here, we're a couple of no-name slobs, we belong to nobody and nobody belongs to us, we don't even belong to each other" blah blah blah "you know what's wrong with you, Miss...whoever you are? You're chicken, like: hands, gravel, face. I was walking blind, not by love but something like it I guess.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

P-A-Y-A-T-T-E-N-T-I-O-N-!

"Under the pressure of sex and addiction, bodies explode or mutate, protoplasm is sucked out of cocks or nostrils, plots are hatched to take over the planet or nearest life-form. Borroughs anticipates Frederic Jameson's claim that an information society is the purest form of capitalism. When bodies are constituted as information, they can be not only sold but fundamentally reconstituted in respose to market pressures. Junk instantiates the dynamics of informatics and makes clear the relation of junk-as-information to late capitalism. Junk is the 'ideal product' because the 'junk merchant does not sell his product to the consumer, he sells the consumer to his product. He does not improve and simplify his merchandise. He degrades and simplifies the client. .' The junkie's body is a harbinger of the postmodern mutant, for it demonstrates how prescence yields to assembly and disassembly patterns created by the flow of junk-as-information though points of amplification and resistance.'
N. Katherine Hayles, How We Became Posthuman



In other news, a man spilled his coffee on my pink leggings on the train to work this morning.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

warburton wrath

DOWN with WARBURTONS CRUMPETS, a little more expensive than the supermarket own-brand but so DOUGHY and full of PROMISE you imagine them filling your empty consumer expanse warming your sad heart DRIPPING with PB and BUTTER until they get stuck in your TOASTER and you have to turn it off at the PLUG to FISH them out with a knife BREAKING the machinery and only the GHOST of a crumpet you ONCE KNEW, all chewed up and BITTY of course by then they've cooled DOWN and the butter won't even MELT over the MANGLED CORPSE of a crumpet you once dared to call your OWN and looking at that crumpet you are forced to face the DISGUSTING MESS of your own life and you crumple HOPELESSLY before the plate GAGGING AND WRETCHING unable to face your own FRAILTY AND COWARDICE when all you wanted was a tasty snack.








and whilst I'm here, down with not being able to understand FLASH MX and those lazy cyberpoets full of BROKEN LINKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Friday, December 01, 2006