#de la soul angry birds

[shoegazergamer]

I find this de la soul angry birds image to be very funny

[jules-has-notes]

Aca Top 10: Video Games — VoicePlay music video

Legend has it that video games helped keep the boys of 4:2:Five out of trouble during their early touring days. And photographic evidence indicates that it continued well into the VoicePlay era. But gaming isn't just about passing time and bonding with friends when you're a traveling musician. It can also be a source of inspiration for a wildly entertaining musical medley.

Details:

title: Aca Top 10 — Video Games

original songs: [0:07] HALO theme (2002); [0:26] Angry Birds theme (2009); [0:44] Pokémon Red & Blue opening theme (1996); [0:56] Minecraft theme (2009); [1:08] Final Fantasy main theme (1987); [1:22] "Dragonborn" from The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim (2011); [1:40] "Type A" theme from Tetris (1988); [1:56] "Mortal Kombat (Techno-Syndrome)" from Mortal Kombat (1992); [2:14] Legend of Zelda overworld theme (1987); [2:50] Pong sound effects (1972); [2:57] Super Mario Bros. overworld theme (1985)

written by: HALO theme by Martin O'Donnell & Michael Salvatori; Angry Birds theme by Ari Pulkkinen; Pokémon Red & Blue theme by Junichi Masuda; Minecraft theme by Daniel "C418" Rosenfeld; Final Fantasy main theme by Nobuo Uematsu; "Dragonborn" Skyrim theme by Jeremy Soule; Tetris "Type A" theme based on Russian folk song "Korobeiniki", arranged by Hirokazu Tanaka; "Mortal Kombat (Techno-Syndrome)" by Maurice "Praga Khan" Engelen & Olivier Adams; Legend of Zelda overworld theme by Koji Kondo; Pong sound effects created by Allan Alcorn; Super Mario Bros. overworld theme by Koji Kondo

arranged by: Geoff Castellucci & Layne Stein

release date: 24 February 2015

My favorite bits:

the 8-bit logo during the intro, and Layne making sound effects for Earl's requisite Mountain Dew

all of them bopping around to some degree during the Angry Birds section

Twitch streamer Layne and his adorable laugh

impressively whistling in three-part harmony for Tetris

Earl button mashing like a filthy casual, then covering his eyes during the gory fatality part

Layne using ingressive phonation to replicate the digitized voice effect at the end of Mortal Kombat

techo remix Zelda!

Geoff working so hard to not laugh after doing his part of the Pong bit

Tony just watching and having snacks during the Mario section because the 8-bit music didn't provide a part for him to sing

Trivia:

○ Several of these pieces have appeared in later VoicePlay videos:

They did a full version of the HALO theme with founding 4:2:Five member Scott Porter in 2021 as a tribute to a departed friend.

Adriana Arellano and Cesar De La Rosa joined them for a short, soothing rendition of the Minecraft theme.

They added a sample of the main Skyrim theme to their cover of "The Dragonborn Comes" with Omar Cardona.

The guys included a snippet of "Still Alive" over the patron roll just as a fun bonus for themselves, but it received such an enthusiastic response from fans that they recorded a full version of it during their first PartWork series.

They integrated elements of the original NES Mario theme and sound effects into their arrangement for "Peaches" from the 2023 Super Mario Bros. movie.

○ Apparently, Geoff cracking up during the Pong bit caused several outtakes. (Good thing they were all filmed separately, so he was the only one who had to start over when he broke.)

○ Their wardrobe represents a few different video game franchises.

Tony has a Pikachu hat from Pokémon.

Eli is repping an old-school Atari logo shirt, which was already part of his regular wardrobe.

Geoff wears a Minecraft creeper shirt from Hot Topic.

Earl is sporting a Mega Man shirt.

Layne has a subtle Minecraft hoodie with enderman eyes on the hood from ThinkGeek.

[araminakilla]

Nobody expects the... Wait what!?

Note: To understand what's going on in this "Tad the Lost Explorer" fic, I recommend you to read my other fic "Didn't see that coming...again!" Also, get Google for traduction of some parts.

This is kind of a less angsty and more comical sequel. The kind of content I said I was doing... months ago. Sorryforthewaitithasbeenatoughyear

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

(Chicago, USA)

In an American apartment, two persons were heading towards the explorer's home, even though he and his pet weren't at home. Except that they were no ordinary people... they were GHOSTS. Ghosts of cursed conquistadors, to be exact.

Manuel: Estás seguro que esta es la habitación correcta. ¿Por qué una momia inca de todos los lugares estaría aquí?

Santiago: Ya te lo dije Manuel, siento la presencia de ese ser aquí. Desde que ese desgraciado nos mató y nos maldijo a vagar por Paititi, mi unico objetivo en esta vida-

Manuel: Dirás plano existencial ya q-

Santiago shoots a deep glare to his partner. The other one shuts up inmediatly.

Santiago: Mi objetivo es vengarme de ese indio por todas las calumnias que nos trajo.

Manuel: Técnicamente... nosotros fuimos los que le arruinamos la vida. Llegamos a su hogar, matamos a su gente, invadimos su escondite-

The other cursed conquistador grabbed Manuel by the collar and whispered in an angry voice.

Santiago: Hey... de qué lado estás? Él nos mandó a encerrar en una habitación especial por medio milenio.

Manuel: Es cierto.

Santiago: ¿Además no fue él quien te apartó de tu familia para siempre? Aunque él lo niegue, los tres estamos cubiertos de sangre, pero ese monstruo es un salvaje y TIENE. QUE. CAER.

After thinking for a while, Manuel nods and puts a serious face.

Manuel: Tienes razón. Venga, vamos a darle su merecido Santi.

Santiago: Así se habla Manu!

Both conquistadors go through the walls of the apartment, one has a ghost sword in his hand and the other points at the culprit of their misery. They began to say their own dramatic speech at the same time.

Manuel: Inca! Por cientos de años estuvimos esperando este encuentro para-

Santiago: Ahora sí indio, TE VOY A RE MATAR POR-!

But they stopped when they saw what was in front of them.

Both: Pero qué coño tío!?

There was a mummy as they were expecting, yes. But he was dressed in red colors, had black hair, something on his head that made sounds and he was dancing... very well, Santiago had to admit. The monster had his eyes closed while listening to his tunes.

Mummy: Cuz' this is thriller! Thriller!

Both conquistadors looked at each other with wide eyes, then at the mummy, then at themselves again. They didn't know how many times they continued to do that until Santiago broke the routine.

Santiago: Pero qué... rayos estoy viendo?

Manuel retrieves something from his armor and shows it to his partner while asking.

Manuel: ¿Estás seguro que este es el edificio correcto?

Santiago: Debe ser, no me pude equivocar. Además, ¿cuántas momias con ojos grandes y voz chillona crees que hay por aquí?

Even when asking Manu that, he still sounded very unsure of his answer. He looked again at the drawing Manuel was holding.

The Incan mummy, with spear and shield in his hands, with suffering, anger and murder in his eyes. His mere drawing of him and his gaze could pierce into someones' soul. The last heir of the royal blood of the Sapa Inca was someone to fear... or so they thought.

They were so focused on the drawing that they didn't see someone who was looking at them stunned. When they looked up, a little red parrot let out a fearful chirp and the ghosts were starled as well.

Manuel in that confusing moment let the drawing fall, said drawing upon losing touch with the conquistador's hand inmediatly materialized and fell on the floor.

The red bird took the drawing with its claws, then flew towards the living corpse and, chirping a lot, manage to get the dancer's attention. The incan lowered his headphones and looked at the parrot confused.

Mummy: What is it lorito?

The bird flew towards the spaniards while pointing with one of his wings and chirping louder than before. Mummy looked at their direction and gasped, very surprised.

Both Santiago and Manuel prepared for the worst. The unofficial leader of the duo held his sword with his two hands while making a facial expression that screamed "come and get me if you can, it's revenge time!" while the other just moved behind his partner while trying to put a brave face. Keyword: trying.

The monster practicaly teleported to were his little friend was and...

Took the drawing the parrot had, admiring it with wide eyes while turning his back towards his ancient enemies. He turned around and looked at the parrot.

Mummy: Belzoni! I didn't know you could draw me so well! My... you are really great artist.

He then returned the drawing to the bird who had a very confused face. The same can be said about the conquistadors.

Mummy: You must show your unique talent to Sara and the others. I'm sure they will also find it awesome. Hehe... awesome. Such a silly word.

With that said, he put on his headphones and went to the kitchen, singing awfuly in the process.

Belzoni, Santiago and Manuel just stood there, perpexed, confused, like their minds just were blown in the worst way possible. They looked at each other, then at Mummy, then at themselves. Again, it was Santi the one who broke the repetitive action.

Santiago: Creo... que sí me equivoqué de edificio. Seguiremos buscando en otro lado. Con permiso.

The older conquistador went through the walls of the apartment and disappeared from Belzoni's sight.

The other ghost took back his drawing and just right there it became intangible, as if its owner's touch just made it ghostly again.

Manuel: (waving his hand) Adios lorito.

With those last words, he followed his partner in his revenge quest, leaving the very confused parrot to deal with the "unworthy" monster.

Belzoni just stood there for a moment, regreted some of his life choices and went back to his regular place to sleep and wait until his owner, her boyfriend and the annoying dog return.

Or just wake up when Mummy destroys something or hits him by accident. Again.

FIN

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

Notes: In this fic, only animals and other forms of undead can see ghosts. Now you may asking... then why Mummy couldn't see Santiago and Manuel?

The answer is that when Mummy returns to Tad and Sara after his failed return to Paititi, he tries to live a normal human life, suppresing every kind of magic or need an undead mummy could have, that includes the hability to see other undead.

He wants to move on from his past, while also rejecting the powers that were given to him when he died because they come from tragedy.

Until the whole "Curse of the Egyptian mummy" story happens and he decides that isn't working and can't ignore his powers and feelings anymore.

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

Responses from the Opera Screencaps Captioning Quiz

Hello, everyone, and thank you for taking my quiz! I had SO MUCH fun reading your captions-- there were several times I literally started crying from laughing so hard at the amazingness of your work! With that in mind, the captions (which I will continue to add onto as more people take it):

(also, thank you to @dichterfuerstin​ for translating the German captions I got)

originally taken from: the Wiener Staatsoper’s 2020 production of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Die Entführung aus dem Serail, featuring Regula Mühlemann (center) as Blonde, Michael Laurenz (right) as Pedrillo, and an unnamed extra (left) as the Grim Reaper

Responses:

(Backstage warm-up) “ok so someone dropped the pulse”

me and my friends watching the fire burn after doing arson

Introducing the polycule to the parents

*boom* ... did...you guys hear that too?

Ma Signor !

Knight in whinging armour gone wrong, look at how he holds the egg. Polyamory with weird knight and death.

the father, son and the holy ghost are very gay

the gays meeting for brunch, 2021, colorized

chicken lady forces death and a very flamboyantly homosexual anthropomorphized pink bird to be parents of her egg (they dont want to be)

That’s just me and my friends on our night out (before covid rip)-- closest

A Good Friday night

good omens (2019)

["the pocket guide to boy/girl/mischief" meme] who's the boy and who's the mischief though????

Papageno and Papagena take their first-born egg trick-or-treating

Angry Birds - The Musical. A pig stole an egg and the bird unites with death to take revenge.

I love my bird wife

Someone got murdered during the funky chicken dance

throuple murders child and steals sibling of said child

When you and your friends have widely different tastes in literature

angel leading twink to his rightful place (hell)

draco malfoy from a very potter musical and a death eater are very much in the wrong show

What have I gotten myself into

Mlm/wlw solidarity but I’m not telling who is who

A woman stands with a pink dipshit with an egg and a reaper.

A bird-couple makes a pact with Death, sacrificing their first-born bird-child in order to bring good luck upon their unborn bird-baby

There are three types of people on Halloween:

Uh oh, I don’t think the mother hen is very happy about this...

oh god, they’ve invented seussical. It’s too early!

gay brunch

Three little maids from school are we

guys maybe if we dress gay enough we can distract everyone from the dead flapper bee in the back

those three killed a duck for her egg and are facing the conswquences.

Duck has egg with human, shocked and upset due to biological impossibility

When you bout to make a banging omelet so you invite your fellow queers

"No mortal man could pass that egg, but heaven shall repair your rectum."

originally taken from: the Salzburg Festival’s 2007 production of Hector Berlioz’s Benvenuto Cellini, featuring Maija Kovalevska (left) as Teresa Balducci, Laurent Naouri (center, in chimney) as Fieramosca, and Burkhard Fritz (right) as Benvenuto Cellini

Responses:

“In this same interlude it doth befall That I, one Snout by name, present a wall; And such a wall, as I would have you think, That had in it a crannied hole or chink, Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby, Did whisper often very secretly. This loam, this rough-cast and this stone doth show That I am that same wall; the truth is so: And this the cranny is, right and sinister, Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.” - a midsummer night’s dream, act v scene 1

"ah yes a prime specimen. see here, right in this box is our one of a kind hob goblin that can be all yours for the low low price of your soul"

what, YOU don't have a special eavesdropping chimney window?

Hänsel und Gretel plotting against the witch

man takes a wrong turn and ends up in a chimney, catches his girlfriend cheating-- closest

when you end up third wheeling the straight couple

lady cheats on her leather jacket wearing scummy boyfriend and when he unexpectedly comes home she hides the lover in the chimney

A straight girl and her gay best friend gossip about stuff idk

Idk Shakespeare?

experimental couples therapy feat. the chimney mf from mary poppins

Area Couple Inadvertently Traps Santa-in-Training in Chimney as they Attempt Rooftop Flirting

Landlords laugh over student renter's misfortune

I never asked for this

Ay yo lil mama lemme whisper in your ear

voyeurist listens to sandy and Danny from grease

Psssst! Did you hear about Susan? You won’t believe it!

lady and the tramp meets beauty and the beast?

human trafficking

And for just $30 you too could have your own tiny brick cage!

Psst I’m wearing assless chaps under this dress

A couple tortures a man in a box.

It's all fun and games being stuck in a chimney until your greasy uncle steals your crush from right above you-- okay ngl this could actually be a great Don Pasquale concept

Taking eavesdropping to the next level

Will you two stop being lovey dovey and let me out? SUMMER LOVIN, HAPPENED SO FAST— 

overhearing how people talk about you when they think they're alone puts you in the shithouse 

Does he know we can see him?

dear god, i am so fucking hungry, yall please just do whatever heterosexuals do so i can go eat a popsicle 

the human version of the trash man from sesame street is realizing that those two are going to fuck on his trash can 

Tmw you capture an angry short dude and start trashtalking him where he can hear 

Omg what if we kissed but we actually kissed the lil goblin man under us

"Remember, don't feed him after midnight"

originally taken from: the Théâtre de Capitole du Toulouse’s 2017 staging of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Le prophète, featuring Leonardo Estevez (right, on fake horse) as Le Comte d’Oberthal

Responses:

“When I said we needed to drain the swamp I didn’t think there were people actually living there”

horse? what horse? no sir i dont know what horse youre referring to.

definitely don't have a napoleon complex going on

King stole La Scala‘s Lohengrin set

king breaks all his horses, has to use statue dragged by servants as transportation because he’s too kingly too walk

Emperor Söder and his subjects on a carnival procession

man on horse makes a big deal out of being on a horse

That’s not Zeffirelli because the horse is not alive

Who the fuck put a horse on the stage

isn't this that picture of napoleon on the horse

Area Count Thinks Citizens will be Intimidated by his Extremely Fake-looking Horse Statue-- closest

Everyone wants their turn on the giant plaster horse. Police are there to make sure everyone waits their turn.

Night out with the lads

Local royalty horrified at the state of his own damn kingdom

gay army fights different gay aesthetics-- hi author how does it feel to be the funniest fucking person on this quiz

Well at least I LOOK badass

ceasar if he hadn't gotten stabbed (colourised)

some soldiers jumped out of my kindergarten fairytale collection book to burn the don carlos flemish deputies at the stake

It’s just a model

Is that how you feel pulling up in your Honda Civic, Madge?

Someone rides a horse statue in public.

Just a normal party with the bros.

what is this, some kind of crossover episode? 

Terribly sorry for all the fuss, it’s just, that is, my horse is afraid of neck ruffles. I’ve tried to talk to him about it, but he’s—whoaaa there—he said he was a french courtier in a past life and he’s allergic to English fashion 

Horse seller, listen to me! I am riding into battle. I need your strongest horse. - We have horses at home. - The horses at home: 

All hail Incitatus the king 

we are not ripping off shakespeare’s henry viii. what the fuck. this is about lenny xi you uncultured swine, go drown in a pit of your own farts 

oh god is that hamilton 

Guy Removed From Art Museum For Sitting On Statue, more at eleven 

Gay <3

Officer: This horse... is a virgin! Crowd: *cheers*

originally taken from: the Parma Verdi Festival’s 2017 staging of Giuseppe Verdi’s Stiffelio, featuring Maria Katzarava (left) as Lina and Luciano Ganci (right) as Stiffelio

Responses:

That One kid in class

its a mEntAL BreAkDowN *final countdown but kazoo*

*record scratch* yeah, that's me. you're probably wondering how I got here-- closest

Dad keeps monologuing, teenager is done

left: all of my concerned friends, right: my emo ass having a very public mental breakdown

the demons in the corner of my room when im just trying to sleep

lady gets mansplained to (do i need to say more, we've all been there)

It’s probably an area baritone telling off an area soprano-- sorry; it’s a tenor. soprano is right though.

That was a fake horse in the last photo right?

child comes out as gay to father at a particularly bad time

dissociation solves everything

I can't believe it's not butter

Honey we talked about this

My sleep paralysis demon is Crowley from supernatural

child has nightmare of boring job

When you start dating a singer but he won’t stop practicing at night

just an average day in a hetero marriage

what do i do my wife's having period cramps again

Stop having an existential crisis. It’s time to sing!

“No son of mine will kin Gomez Addams under MY roof”

Crowley stares into space while a teen has post nut clarity.

When he wont stop reciting jordan peterson monologues!!

Do you realize how effed you are?

Ugh, not this lecture again! Dad’s Practicing For His Experimental Indie Band Again 

asking your parents for help with your own personal situation and them just ranting off about what they went through instead of helping in any way 

Will he shut up already!

no one tell him he’s yelling in the wrong direction, no one tell him plnsbdjddhdj 

this kid is tired of his dad listening to rush limbaugh (a man who claimed to be pro life but died anyway) 

Me internally vs externally 

Daddy issues

originally taken from: the Grand Théâtre de Genève’s 2020 staging of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Les Huguenots, featuring several chorus members

Responses:

It’s the deadly eye Of Poogley-pie. Look away, look away, As you walk by, ‘Cause whoever looks right at it Surely will die. It’s a good thing you didn’t … You did? … Good-bye. - shel Silverstein

why the fuckith? my good sir, i beg of you to put your pants back on

I hate this itchy hat

Titanic Extras hear that they have to do extra hours

people waiting to board the titanic watch someone fall off the plank

pov: you’re a time traveler

guy in the flatcap is embarrassed by patriotism and pathos

No idea. For some reason Le Marseillaise comes to mind

Is this from Harry Potter?

disneyland main street usa workers on strike

local tries to hide behind Newsies cap to avoid unpleasant but inevitable conversations. meanwhile, some very fashionable ladies look on.

"Thank fuck, 2020 was just a dream after all"

“We gather here today because this bitch got exactly what she deserved” “heaven!” “Stfu Stephanie she’s going to hell and we all know it”-- not quite but this basically happens later on in the opera (and act) so yeah (except the person in question very much Did Not Deserve It)

dc movie filter on bridgerton

america?

looks like my history teacher paused the prohibition documentary again

Who still wears page boy hats bro?

Coming out to a room of people who Already Knew That

Bitches are relieved at some party.

Several drunk people exiting getting off the subway attempting to seem sober and rational but realizing they have somehow lost all of their possessions

How tf do I act natural in this situation-- closest

“do you think any of them noticed that I don’t know the pledge of allegiance” 

It's too fucking hot outside for this outfit 

?

when hyyh yoonkook ending just hits different 

pedestrians watch in horror as the triangle shirtwaist factory burns and the workers throw themselves out of the windows from a dozen stories up 

Starting the pledge of allegiance be like 

He's having a heart attack oh no oh god oh fuck

originally taken from: if I remember correctly, the Semperoper Dresden’s 2018 semi-staging of Johann Strauss II’s Die Fledermaus, with Jonas Kaufmann as Gabriel von Eisenstein

Responses:

“William Shakespeare wrote: "To thine own self be true And it must follow, as the night the day Thou canst not then be false to any man" I believe this wise statement best applies to a woman A blonde woman Over the past three years she taught me And showed us all That being true to yourself never goes out of style Ladies and gentlemen Our valedictorian: Elle Woods!” - legally blonde the musical

eat ass, suck a dick, and sell drugs

woooooorrrrd

Finally Jonas has graduated! It’s about time, considering he’s an international star.

what my professors think they look like

Prof. Dr. Dr. When someone tells him there are more than two genders

'and since you've now graduated high school, you'll be entering college etc. blablabla' .........meanwhile, there's a whole row of graduates daring each other to chug the cheap vodka one of them has brought in gallons (yes that happened at my graduation, lol)

Jonas darling baby <3-- can’t argue with that

I just realized I have no idea what the actual fuck happens in an opera

ok this one is just what jonas kaufmann always wears you can't fool me.

"as valedictorian i will share with you the importance of loving the floor"

"Yes, mother, my art degree will make me money!"

Graduation speakers are out, singers are in

Senior year takes a new meaninbg

mansplainer professor explains the concept of feminism to women

Your Prof when you finally turn in that missing assignment be like

younger boris johnson (derogatory)

jonas kaufmann retires from opera and takes up motivational speaking

What a fine graduation evening we’re having today

-70 points for slytherin you all have no swag

A man with a college hat sings.

An obviously greying actor trying to play a university student in a low-budget porn parody

How it feels to graduate high school after being held back for years

East High is a place where teachers encouraged us to break the status quo and define ourselves as we choose. Where a jock can cook up a mean crème brûlée, and a brainiac can break it down on the dance floor-

I may not have been "cool" in high school, but in ten years you will all be working for me!

I finally got my GED!

that one guy in ur intro to cultural anthropology class who mansplains to the professor somehow fucking graduated

he;s just graduating and taking his speech too serously idk

Graduation speeches with that one dude who got held back 3 times

Smrt

originally taken from: the Metropolitan Opera’s 2011 staging of Gioachino Rossini’s Le Comte Ory with Joyce DiDonato (left) as Isolier, Diana Damrau (center) as Countess Adèle, and Juan Diego Florez (right) as Le Comte Ory (disguised as a hermit)

Responses:

There is something very [disturbing grunts] About polyamorous couples - polyamorous, Chris Fleming

jinkies

femme fatale (including to herself)

I’ll have a threesome soon !

Hot guy walks by, everyone swoons.

thirdwheeling friend does not realize the other two are having sex

When your girlfriend had „just two beers“ again

jesus is exasperated about having to drag the two ladies towards doing what he needs them to do instead of purple dramatically declaring suicidal intent over the smallest trivial matters and red being equally dramatic about declaring that it's not the way! stay alive! i love you!!

The throuple is thriving

Get off the milf

orgy

my last three braincells because im a horny slut

countess receives too much love and is confused on how to react

Rasputin's lesser known romp with a much older czarina of russia

Woman's soul leaves body

Jesus and co. are worried after another woman gets pregnant without having sex

bisexual looks at photos of celebrity couples

When you go to the party to socialize with new people but your weirdo friend group starts getting clingy

Jesus cumming

one of those weird church christmas pageants but everybody's drunk

What have I done

Hozier??????????

Jesus assfucks some purple lady being hugged.

This time, the chick IS the magnet

An affair/threesome gone awry (2019 colorized)

What do you mean they canceled GLOW?

“I TOLD you it was cashmere!”

Are you wearing the - - The Gucci dress? Yes I am.

It's not what it looks like!

jesus is fucking that one cheerleader who grew up to be a suburban mom with one (1) super cool dress she stole from her kid who is desperately hugging her middle begging for it back because the spring fling is coming up and jason might actually make eye contact with her for more than three seconds.

jesus and mary magdaline and some other bitch

I’m at a bar and these drunk girls are flirting with me, do I lOOK GAY?!

Shrek 5, jesus's return

c. 2025 First attempt of an Officer and his Wife with a Handmaiden (colourized)

just about all of these are close lol

originally taken from: the Bolshoi Theater’s 1993 staging of Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s The Maid of Orléans, featuring Nina Rautio (left) as Joan of Arc and Vyacheslav Pochapsky (right) as Thibaut d’Arc

Responses:

Don’t look, I’m still pooping

yall, the audacity of this man. he fuckin talked to me

*i can't even tell you how wrong you are* *it would be insulting to ME*-- closest

Cospeto!

„No I’m not talking to you, you keep cracking bad jokes!“ - „But I got another!“

when you’re mad at him but he says he’ll buy you food if you cheer up

When I’m wallowing in self-pity but my friends won’t comfort me

right: wanna fuck ;) left: yeah, fuck OFF lmao

Her face is screaming “don’t tell me what to do”

Yeah I got nothing

gay man tries to hit on a lesbian bc he thinks she's a twink. she's not amused but she's watching this happen anyway

me tired of MET's bullshit and them organising a Netrebko, known blackface apologist, a recital during Black History Month. (sorry im still fucking salty lol)

"stop smiling at me like that I'm trying to pout over here"

"I got fleas, you got fleas... wanna fuck?"

I have the best idea!

Haha nooooo don’t hit me with that bat you’re so sexxyy

lesbian is bothered by dilf

Me trying to flirt

if call me by your name was hetero and set in america

how many more dad jokes can i take before i explode

So. You’ve gotten yourself in a little pickle again.

What if we fought in the Russian revolution together ✨???????... unless??

Two people flirt in a poor place of town/

"If you ask me what I've got under this dirty, shapeless tunic one more time I swear to god I will kick your rotting teeth in"

You look like ur gonna kill me but ok

Really? You again?

Okay, I’ve been sitting here for 20 minutes, do you think it’s safe to—oh god, he’s still there.

Have you seen Godot?

she is tired of everyone’s shit. she has done so many derivatives it physically pains her to see a variable. dont test her. ur icarus rn.

idk pick better pictures-- I HAVE DIED THE SHEER AUDACITY AND HUBRIS I LOVE THIS

200% done with your crap 

Homeless man has fucking legs of steel n is gonna show off his Russian dance moves

originally taken from: the Théâtre de Capitole du Toulouse’s 2019 staging of Paul Dukas’ Ariane et Barbe-bleue, featuring Sophie Koch (right) as Ariane and I don’t remember who the person on the left is rip me

Responses:

The knight who wore this into battle sure was swaggy

dear god its hiddeous

Capitalism

Knight in shining armour gone even more wrong.

ghost contemplates the safety of spiky motorcycle helmet

„Stop! He feels bullied!“

'this is my newest take for jesus's crucifixion crown ...... what do you mean they already put him up'

That’s probably a really expensive magic helmet idk. IDK-- closest

Omg I love the adventure zone!

minesweeper (windows xp)

"Okay whatever you do don't touch the shiny spiky ball" "It's so shiny I wanna touch it"

Taking down the trash way too late

IT'S NOT A PHASE MOM

Darth Vader got stuck in the freezer.... again. Leia isn’t happy

Star Wars 2030

“And here is the very latest in motorcycle helmet trends” “Look, I only came to the mall for a pair of socks “

futuristic kkk

long-suffering jewelry store attendant really wants to retire

Put it down put it down put it down

“Hmm no you should see a doctor about that”

A weird ass crown is presented

The creation of sars-cov-2: an experimental Eurotrance nightclub art piece gone horribly wrong

How it feels to want something that u cant have

AND WE WILL CALL IT—SPIKE MAN actually do you think that’s too obvious?? Because of the—yeah, because of the spikes?? See, that’s what I’m worried about. I want it to be SCARY

I know it's risky but... lube me up

?

use the force luke.

that is a weird fleshlight

When you get an ugly gift and need to find a way to get rid of it, so your family member/friend offers to smash it

Touch the orb

originally taken from: the Opera Vlaanderen’s 2019 staging of Fromental Halévy’s La Juive, with Nicole Chevalier (left, with bottle) as Princess Eudoxie, Enea Scala (center, under table) as Prince Léopold, and Roy Cornelius Smith (right) as Éléazar

Responses:

When no one comes to your birthday party :(

fantastic, day 487 of mischief and they have yet to find my masterful hiding spot

i really wonder who he thinks he's playing footsie with

Marriage crisis. Reason sits under the table-- closest but not in the way you think (after all, the man under the table IS a tenor).

the last supper afterparty after jesus left

When you order the last supper on wish

espionage at the Politischer Rosenmontag

Probably the wrong opera but is that Leporello under the table

Now THIS is a Good Friday night

this was every birthday party i went to between the ages of 5 and 11

that awkward moment when you drop your fork under the table but when you re-emerge everyone else has left except one drunk lady and the guy trying to deal with her

After the last supper

Tfw you arrive to the dinner party too early and have to hide until a more fashionable hour

When the cishets aren’t home

waiter hides from customers

Nobody: My dog every time I’m eating:

what's left of the homies Jesus had dinner with

university chem lab experiment gone terribly wrong

I’ve been under the table FOR 30 MINUTES

Set your friends up by tossing them off under the table, they’ll think it’s each other n fall in luv

Someone hids under a table

"You're about to see an surreptitious-under-the-table-dick-sucking master at work"

5 yr old me trying to eat the desert under the table without my parents finding out be like:

They never invite me to their parties!

Just another girl’s night in

Oops! Didn’t notice you the table.

dionysus - bts (2019, colorized)

just a normal episode of eric andre (eric is the one under the table)

Just a normal day with the boys

Thievery

originally taken from: the Théâtre de Capitole du Toulouse’s 2017 staging of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Le prophète, featuring Kate Aldrich (left, surrounded by women in white) as Fidès and John Osborn (center, looking like a Jesus doppelganger) as Jean de Leyde

Responses:

Hold up, is that Eggman above Jesus?

holy disco

Looks like Tannhäuser. Our lord and saviour Richard Wagner. Now I need to be saved from that.

catholicism

me defending pineapple on pizza (THANK YOU)

jesus but hes about to be abducted by the alien ufo above him

Emmmmmmm Heaven? Idk

Lord of the rings?

ewww christianity gross

"behold, I am Important"

"Seriously?? It's not ACTUALLY pyjama day? Fuck you guys!"

Jesus at the Disco

Jesus Finds The Molerat People Who Live Under Bethlehem

disco is heaven

Want to join my new religion?

the kkk

church christmas pageant where everyone's sober but it's based on the director's fever dream

Am I the only one who sees the giant demon? Just me? Okay...

“Oh god I think I’m starting my period”

A party is held with a priest in the middle

"Let's get this secret Vatican sex party rolling!"

The new avengers endgame set is looking great!!

You know, guys, I try not to be a bother but...I can’t help but feel like I missed a dress code memo for this wedding??? It’s cocktail, right??”

Jesus visits Hogwarts

I must really stink if no one will even come close to me

the extra ass funeral i DESERVE

star wars life day

A cult at it’s best-- closest

Shrek 5, Jesus is still there I guess

originally taken from: the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden’s 2013 staging of Giuseppe Verdi’s Les vêpres siciliennes, featuring Bryan Hymel (left, standing) as Henri, Lianna Haroutounian (center, kneeling in the black gown) as Duchess Hélène, and Erwin Schrott (kneeling to her right) as Jean Procida

Responses:

When the director’s like “great rehearsal guys, just a few notes before I let you go” but it’s already 9:13 and your mom’s waiting in the parking lot

loyalist of subjects

bow before your queen

They forgot to take down the stage boxes after the Vienna opera ball but the show must go on.

somebody forgot to book chairs for this funeral

Me sharing God’s (Hayley koyoko) word on the discord server

mass execution bc the oboe solo sucked ass-- closest

That’s too many black suits I can’t see shit

I can’t even tell what’s going on here

8th grade school assembly about how it's uncool to shit on the walls at school

let's all get fancy so we can go to the opera and sit on the stage (idk this one's hard lol)

"Yes i am a time traveller, now don't freak out"

Tfw you forget to pay your lighting bills

White guys make decisions that will benefit them and screw someone that’s not a white guy over-- OUCH but that is too real (although not really in context here)

dead man gives speech at his own funeral

brotus and the boys ??? last meeting before the stabbing

high society social function ends in mass murder-- right opera, wrong scene

Someone walks into the talent show stage with a dog

Black-dressed bitches worship a man.

Worst school assembly of all time

POV:You're the window in the classroom and someone said "its snowing"

When the conductor shows up fashionably late to the orchestra concert

That's what you get for choosing the cheapest ticket option, get back in the mud where you belong

?

theyre just trying to jump into a grave at a funeral leabe them alone this is normal

oh my god he really whipped his dick out in front of everyone, this is just like in 1776 guys, except some women are actually in the room this time,

A funeral, stop wearing so much black

I want to slap their bald heads like rice

originally taken from: the Teatro Real Madrid’s 2018 staging of Gaetano Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor, featuring Roberto Tagliavini (right) as Raimondo

Responses:

Crowd “haha!! Looks like someone missed the all-black memo!! Now it’s laugh-in-your-face time! / Guy on the floor (whispering to guy against wall): go, save yourself! I’ll hold them off...”

if i leave now i wont be a witness and can tell the police i had no idea

it was the best of times, it was the worst of times

Guy in the back pretends to help but is to far away to even know what’s going on.

priest walks in on beginning of an orgy, contemplated joining but is too scared-

when someone brings up capitalism but you’re just trying to play minecraft

lol lets trample this guy while the judge isnt looking

Again. Too many black costumes

Loved this Dostoevsky novel

i would know if opera directors were more creative with clothing choices ngl

me on parties lol

"imma just sneak out of here while everyone else is distracted"

"Where did he get this flooring!? Amazing!"

Everyone act normal!

The tell tale heart but they got REALLY drunk

man tposes to ward off vampires after being caught undercover

boys ???? night

the priest really shouldn't have visited the insane asylum-- closest

He’s FINE everyone’s been hit by a car before

Something happens in a room.

Perks of being a wallflower

There's always that one person in the fight whos trying not to get involved when they really wanna

Oh good, they’re all posing for a Rembrandt painting, I can just sneeeeaaak out the back here...

The gamer livestreaming Resident Evil + everyone watching the stream ? waiting for him to open the door just knowing it will trigger a chase scene

Quick!

the guy t posing in the back is regretting his every decision.-- also accurate

the us senate jumps ted cruz, some other wack ass gop senator is trying to sneak away

...I spoke too soon, however this is a James Bond mission

Queers help fellow queer do math but it's a struggle

[harrishanie]

"Fragmentary Annihilation” by “Alexander”

If you’ve ever encountered the PDF versions of Jesus Ignacio Aldapuerta’s The Eyes or Roger Gilbert-Lecomte’s Black Mirror, you’ve probably seen the link to The Usual Cannibalism, the (now former) blog of the transcriptionist. This blog advertises two original works, now seemingly-inaccessible, Meditations on Ero Guro and Fragmentary Annihilation. I have been curious about these works since my first discovery of the aforementioned documents, but it only occurred to me today that I might be able to find them by just plugging the dead links into the Internet Archive. I thought that they were interesting enough and worth preserving, as much as anything else, so I am posting them here--just the first for now, since I am not sure if Meditations fits the current content dogma. I have also not done any formatting whatsoever so I will apologize.

Both pieces are attributed only to “Alexander”--if you are him, my kind regards. To everyone else, my apologies.

Fragmentory Annihilation

An attempt at overcoming Nihilism and Limitation By Alexander http://the-usual-cannibalism.blogspot.com/

Selected Music: OST 2001: A Space Odyssey: Composed by various. The Beyond: Composed by Fabio Frizzi Blue: Cowboy Bebop OST: Composed by Yoko Kanno. Cannibal Holocaust: Composed by Riz Ortolani Dawn of The Dead: Composed and performed by Goblin Fish ~ Silent Cruise: Ghost In The Shell Stand Alone Complex OST: Composed by Yoko Kanno Greed Bird: Cowboy Bebop OST: Composed by Yoko Kanno Holy Mountain: Composed and performed by Don Cherry, Ron Frangipane, and Alejandro Jodorowsky In Heaven: Eraserhead OST: Composed and performed by Peter Lvers Lucifer Rising: Composed and performed by Jimmy Paige Monochrome: Ghost in the Shell Stand Alone Complex OST: Composed by Yoko Kanno Nosferatu: Composed and performed by Popol Vuh Rain (Female Vocal Version): Cowboy Bebop OST: Composed by Yoko Kanno Requiem for A Dream: Composed by Clint Mansell and performed by the Kronos Quartet Suspiria: Composed and performed by Goblin

Original Compositions Adagio for Strings: Composed by Samuel Barber Ase’s Death: Composed by Edvard Grieg Carmina Burana: Composed by Carl Orf The Crucifixion: Composed by Samuel Barber Dreams Less Sweet: Composed and performed by Psychic TV The Downward Spiral: By Nine Inch Nails F# A# (Infinity): Composed and performed By Godspeed You! Black Emperor Holocausto De La Morte: Composed and performed by Necrophagia Horror of the Zombies: Composed and performed by Impetigo House of the Rising Sun: Performed by The Rolling Stones Hurt: Performed by Johnny Cash I Want Your Soul: Composed and performed by Aphex Twin Ode to Joy: Composed by Beethoven Rain Drops Prelude: Composed by Frederic Chopin Prince Igor: Composed by Alexander Borodin The Requiem: Composed by Mozart Strange Fruit: Composed and Sung by Billy Holiday Song for Liberty: Composed by Giuseppe Verdi Sympathy for the Devil: Composed and performed by the Rolling Stones Va Pensiero: Composed by Giuseppe Verdi Yanqui U.X.O: Composed and Performed By Godspeed You! Black Emperor

In Puberty’s ambush, maidens bloom, All unaware of impending doom They listen to the radio, drink tea Unaware they will lose their liberty Bourgeouis recoil not from slaughter Though victim be son and daughter From Salo: The 120 Days of Sodom.

Diagram -an attempt to understandThe World that follows Sadism or Social Darwinism. Invokes the OverMAN, Absolutism, and a kind of Primitism. Leading to the Simple Passions, the Complex Passions, the Criminal Passions, and the Murderous Passions. Power. The World that follows Psychology (Freud, Jung, and Wilhelm Reich): Implies a tree of influence and evolution, cherry picks the good out of each religion. Interconnectedness. The World that follows Unification (Kierkegaard, Krishnamurti, and the Bhaved Gavid): Man is unified with himself and every other, simplicity, taking away from excess resulting in Social Evolution. Instrumentality. The World that follows the Poete Maudit (Lautreamont, Baudelair, Rimbaud, and Artaud): It is with a fury that man achieves a manifest destiny, personification of the Phoenix. Death & Rebirth. The World that follows the Larvae (developmentally halted no further evolution): An introverted and absolute justification for being wrong and spiteful at humanity. The emulation of an idea taken from a great man, modified for the benefit of the shepherd. Defined technically as Scizotypal. The World that follows Escapism: Be satisfied with life and pursue its vices, no more joy to be partaken than that inside a fellow, and housed in a limited splendor with glass walls. There can be no manifest destiny nor growth when one is given it. The Consumer. The World that follows the Dictator: Differing from the others, this is entirely individual yet joins every belief together for the benefit of the one and truly via cherry picking. Implies a Tao of humankind that commits all positive and negative acts, a kind of birthing process where all thinking merges to create a child different from both parents. The Third Mind. Evolution. The World as Reality: the meaninglessness of art and thought as a futile interprise, limited by the finite life span of the earth and the eraser of all hard external memory. Implies that we will not be remembered no matter the effort. Nihilism. The World as Splendor: To believe one and only, by following only Islam or by following strictly Nietzsche. Limiting one self to but one interpretation, thereby denying reality and evolution. Faith.

SACRED Imagine a voice that is low and hollow and that its vocal cords strain to produce sound. This voice that utters a monotone speech begetting remorse and pain, dignity and hatred. Picture this voice on your parent that visits you in the morning and rapes you at night. Object 1 A woman runs up a stairwell, pursued by a deformed man who walks on all fours; his flesh is bruised and clean shaven, the ears are shorn and pointed, with a tongue sewn from two –twice as long as a dog tongue- without thumbs or big toes, those amputated by eugenic miracle, a man is what he sees himself as through the eyes of others by this very transmuted flesh. The woman is cornered on the roof; this dog/man proceeds to rape her. She then slowly changes, shedding her skin, each limb becomes metallic, she transforms into a plane and leaps from the roof and glides into a building, explosions, a gray fog bellows out.

-£¼ªÙÆ When it comes to conversation, I rehearse almost everything. Ad-libbed material gives way to awkward speech like in a random conversation rushed out if only to keep interconnectedness afloat. That is insipid. Better to rehearse and come across as better then a fellow then to wallow in mediocrity and a limited dialogue. People are angry and nice, giving me eyes that would paint me as an evil outsider placed therein to murder them all. The niceness comes from opening doors for them, as they do not do for me. It is unfortunate that I have the habit of implanting pieces of my personality within my characters, what new extremes that I invoke: Three characters that are the me when given over to fury: They escape my brain and proceed downward through my skull where they break through my mouth, which now resembles a deformed cunt. Yet I cannot stop writing, so with my left hand I use a sewing needle and twine and proceed to stitch up the wound. On a mirror just above this paper I carefully study the wound, opening and closing the lips, showing my slightly yellow teeth; realizing it looks like a rat chewed a circular hole asthough my lips were bitten off completely. I continue forward with this surgery, I do not need a mouth to speak.

The character of Defilement Here arises another Eden; one imagined by that better person inside each and every other –that human that acts upon desire-. The setting is the same as the pictures from the bible

with waterfalls and golden gates, populated by one old cow that can just barely stand. Defilement approaches the cow with the glee of a great sadist. “You ask nothing more then to feast and to have your teats pulled and drained of a blockage of fluid. Much like the nymphomaniac left alone with their arms amputated. Allow me to pay tribute to you and all others.” Defilement undresses, smiling as he shows his disfigured prick; for it takes the shape of a double A battery with a stub of flesh protruding through the hole. His testicals are in fact one dozen knives strung like wind chimes. He is not obese, just pounds of loose flesh hang off him, folding over like animal flippers found on a new race of man. His skin ripples like the top of disturbed water as his knives slightly tingle and ring, and drops of ejaculate fall from them. Now a dirty cunt brimming with urea, crowned by dried shit, penetrated. He kisses the animal’s snout in submission. ‘Bestiality is to give up on humanity’ he whispers into the animals’ ear. With that finished, he begins milking the cow. His children drop onto the grass, colored of milk-white with no mouths or any kind of limbs, but born as torsos though they were only bio-engineered fuck-holes. Defilement buries his children under shallow earth; they grow like trees over years and decades thereafter. He bleeds out, feeding his children organic debris. His plasma becomes their water and his shit becomes their food. Once they have matured, he proceeds to their mother and wrenches loose one curved blade. As saintly as conjoined pedophile and martyr when one kills their lover and a surrogate mother. The teats are completely severed in three disorderly gashes, like a crescent with the star being a separated heart. He wears this apparatus atop his skull like a hat. The cow falls to the ground trying to crawl away. Calmly, he sinks the blade through the snout multiple times as if a child making sure his pet is dead. Cutting off its ears now, he has little time left until he dies of blood loss, and cutting off many inches of skin that would bestow one large coat in one last frenzy that relinquishes everything that once made him human. One last gash to the throat, blood pours in gallons; he punches the jaw and breaks it in half. He opens up its stomach and hallows it out and crawls down this hole, curling up like a fetus, preserved for his children, for this is Eden and depravity is only memory for an audience of weeping trees. The character of Defy “Young boy with medium-sized breasts walks pompously, walks right by me. A boy of milk less breasts dares himself to think that he is better then I with his pompous walk, how dare he looks down at me.” A fifteen year-old girl part of a tribe of the destitute with her fat, crippled girlfriend in tow. She curses at me, calling me a faggot for my nice clothes and my walking like an aristocrat. I am dressed in top hat with a Christian cross etched onto the front, an

expensive suite and shoes, and a magnificent cane beside me with the handle of the Cobra (For Defy is the best representation of me as a person, in how I dress and speak) “You walk like you got a corn cob up your ass!” I approach her, being so cautious that she may have several inbred protectors, “You, minute and destitute whore, you were not christened by any kind of virtue nor vice, for both have a kind of attrition and dignity. You, who were born from a moronic fuck between such forgettable inventors, that which claims how great is life and how great is their delirium; those who bore you and let live, what a waste of raw material. I would not rape you in a fury; I feel your vulva has mixed with the mucus of dogs and paint, standards be not your priority –how you will die from pregnancy-. For I am the me that I WILL, such a high and vulgar being of all powers that dwarfs you and your nothing-life. I pity you for having to bathe your crippled pet with your ignorant tears. I wish you nothing. People, such as you, the peon-masses deserve the earthly Hell that you have so graciously built, that is paradigm, that is Darwin, that is you little woman, without power, you and your class, you incredible weakling, you timid and tortured bitch.” She seemed dumbfounded. I see an ugly girl with brown hair with a scalp resembling a bird’s nest filled with parasites. She has an ugly and misshapen face with protruding teeth and glasses that truly add nothing to her appearance. She walks with her pack of an equally disgusting mother and grandmother or some such; they are all obese, just as putrefied and dead as the child. Someone asks them what time it is… they strain with this simple question for about a minute, and they finally give a wrong answer and proceed on their way. I will prove a point to an atheist author, for I am the great Agnostic. I will see the murder of a martyr, that grand attrition, the only tool worth anything by your cult and genius. Back to the crucifixion: I see a crowd devoted to that phantasm of faith; how easy it is to think all is well at a crucifixion post-mortem. Children start to beat the body with sticks as I arrived, pushing down members of the crowd and presenting one simple dialogue as I arrived and spoke“I am the murderer of god, you are but his pets and I have bathed in your creator’s blood. And I have castrated this god of human hands and a blood-less heart.” Raising my hands high, mentally controlling their will with my skeletal fingers by twisting my left hand’s fingers, beginning with the pinkie, turning inward with a folding thumb. “Every man now, is only a fallen god without eyes. You see the world once emerging from the engorged cunt, and there your fellows sealed your eyelids to a close, your voice becomes an echo, and your hands are now tools for someone else. I offer you the heart of your creator. Ingest this organ of not truth or what is known as divine, but a though, like a match to bring the flames.” I pull out a heart and carve it open with my nails then throw the remains to this crowd of the illiterate and begotten. In actuality, it was the heart of a large ape. As the crowd and minor holy men are busy picking the pieces of the heart, I approached christ with his black hair and a tiny height that rivals the myths of Napoleon. His nails are long, his teeth broken and crooked like a

beggar, his anus widened as with cut open balls. “This is what we’ve been waiting for?” I asked loudly and expectantly, my right arm pointing to the body “We’ve waited thousands of years to see the return of an ordinary man not any different then any of us? He is not worth it. He is not the jesus to be forgiven, he is the man we are glad to be rid of; the bourgeois and insipid variety.” I insert my longest fingers into the spear wound and stretch it open, like a portal down not into the thought process but a descent into organic nausea. Through this hole, passing by fantasia no grander then packaged gizzards. I am now at the top of an incredible mountain paved with diamonds, gold, and titanium. Such a spot befitting a man who says ‘I am god’ I see him now, this most real form; here is the inner child sucking on a thumb. Wait, I examine closer and see he is dead when I feel for a pulse and put my ear up to the mouth and there is nothing. The body is slumped to the right side; thumb still in mouth, covered only by a blue blanket that barely hides a violet flesh, his face is cut apart by the shaving of moustache, eyebrows, and hair on the left of his face, this small and castrated child. I curl up right next to it, hiding under the blue blanket and I sleep. The body dissipates like ashes. I smile. The character of Atheism Atheism, dressed in a white short sleeve shirt and black pants with black tie, armored with a Snake Skin jacket while clutching his imposing pocket knife in a side pocket, culminating with a two-foot long cross impaled through his skull; this deformed pariah who failed as a chameleon. The Madman is dead, and we have killed him. Morality is the assassin; we are the conspirators for being so compliant and listless. We have succumbed to not a land without god or logic, but a mindset without idols. The idol is the bringer of influence and what idols remain? But the dead, dying, and meaningless without innovation and strife… A natural selection that favors the weak. Oscar Wilde once said that all influence is immoral, something referenced to by my now dead friend. The reincarnation is not worthy. If that were untrue, then would we not have evolved beyond Nietzsche? All that has been created are the ouroboros of shared ideas. It is the Madman to come from the brink and deliver to us something that had never before been conceived. As it would, that a Madman would arrive with every dying star, it reminds me of a whore who is given a facial and there discovers illumination. I come too late. My time has long passed…

A young Mormon boy, an old Catholic with a black beard, an obese Evangelist mother of three, one follower of Islam, a female atheist, one stereotypical Buddhist, ending with a small Hindu family; all of whom are extremists which should be noted. An illumination, brilliance, and the Madman: They are the conclusion but to what? Countless images happening all at once, struggling to find that vent through this one character in each action of repulsion and glory. I pondered for a moment if I should draw this out for much longer, then again, this should be quick as my author has set me free and I shall thank him with an excess of blank pages. This Mormon is beheaded by an Al Queda operative. The Catholic is placed in the Antarctic half submerged in ice water. The Hindus are treated like untouchables in their culture; the women are raped and beaten, while the men watch and are castrated. The Evangelist is fed to several apes. The Islamist is given a world without enemies; there he finds no one and dies alone. The atheist mocks primitive cultures; she is then subjected to their rituals and is raped and beheaded. The Buddhist is locked in a room without windows; given only a little tree and sand, within days he consumes every leaf on the plant, and then dies of starvation. I am afraid. as I remain one without bible or coda, but a verve that coils and sheds the former ideal like the serpent crawling upwards the tree of knowledge; things that I have written and will re-enact. My fear is that I will not pursue them any longer when pacified by society. It is like a poker game, it ends when you show your hand. … “The girl screamed. The murderer laughs like mad, she begs, he takes out a large knife. She prays, tears rolling from her eyes, a bone-crunching sound is heard. A shot from the policeman’s nine-millimeter pistol, the fatal shot to the head of the murderer. She pleads to her hero ‘I just want to go home’ “ “This novel is my masterpiece,” said an eleven year-old boy struggling to become a horror writer, the author of the above paragraph, if even that, more like an extended sentence. He has had two short stories published in very, very small fanzines and he has posted four more on the Internet. This “masterpiece” is a typical slasher story; so typical it would have been rejected for a Friday The 13th screenplay. He shows the novel to his boyfriends, and they love it. A Naïve boy who is devout to the followers of a passion-less manifesto, and the novel is sold to a large publishing house and it does all right on the market, not at all surprising when the challenge and depth of this book reaches the mighty height of a grain of sand. I write myself in, “Naïve boy, you must challenge people.” he screams that he does not want to, that he only wants to be a jester, to be remembered for his entertainment. I retaliate, “True, that after your death people will remember you, but for only a shot

period of time, fifteen minutes to be exact if we are to follow Warholla and his pretension. For decades after no one will care about your rotten corpse that the worm defecates on, and no one will remember you past that expiration. But, we always remember the pariah’s who wish to change the world and to show us glory whether introverted or extroverted. It depends not on timelessness but on the passion.” A critic descends, casting me as perverted and unworthy, going on in the erotication of rape that I bestow, the difference (same old same old) between pornography and art. I will show misanthropy personified, this is a way to view something as the atrocity that inspires hope, pain, and numbness: In a room of teal, we watch three figures through an iris window, looking out from within my two eyes. A man dressed like an aristocrat except for a black hood that hides his face who stands between a blonde-haired girl no older then seventeen trying to cover herself, and her mother with matching hair; whose limbs are chained to a concrete ceiling that hold her several feet high. Both are of course nude. The daughter cries, and her hands block out her pubic hair. The aristocrat that does not show his face brandishes a very clean and defined sickle with a metallic handle painted yellow. The mother becomes silent. A portrait ten feet by ten feet descends attached to two near-invisible strings, just a foot or two above the mother’s skull. This portrait is in fact an enlarged photograph tainted (artistically) in sepia; the image becomes visible, showing off a victim of Ed Gein’s immortalized by her violation. Gein, one of the first American serial killers: his victim, this aged woman that hangs by her lifeless feet chained by ankles, torn open from anus to chest. It is so awe-inspiring that you would think Dali would masturbate to it. The executioner tilts his skull slightly upward for which beams of light shine on him, thereupon a bent halo tears through his eyes and hangs above the skull; suddenly two large wings rip through his back and these wings are plastered with lined paper and drip ink. From this man’s spine, the epitome of Goodness wrings loose from him, born from the pores of skin and showing its innocent flesh to human eyes. Goodness emerges as a limbless dwarf with empty, plastic bottles planted in its mouth. With a clammy and Asiatic (recalling Shintoism) skin that turns violet from the exposure to oxygen, no longer shelled within polluted man, crawling slowly forwards like a dying slug as it approaches the child and rapes her with its bottles, to give her pleasure, for that is mutually good to the corrupt individual. The sickle approaches the mother, her child still is watching with a penetrated cunt magnified by a see-through bottle: The sickle (moving upward) penetrates the asshole by a few inches, and then a slow lift approaches; working in a seesaw motion, the blade moving quickly; slowly tearing through the outer wall of the cunt, tearing through stomach, and now torn en half. The mother is dead. The boy and critic vomit in unison, I speak, “You see how I’ve made art out of a tragedy? Showing how our world is a constant mirror, I have taken a man who wanted to fuck his mother out of love and hate. He wore the flesh of his victims much as the same as we wear masks; whereas he wore them to become what he wanted to be, we wear a mask to be acceptable. And, by that dismembered woman we witness the birth of new pleasures, and new freedom. The mask becomes our weapon, and the trophy is our freedom.”

“You’re sick!” the boy screams. “No, you’ve glorified Gein’s crime for your own profit. Simply creating a series of violent episodes does not make you a writer, it makes you a pornographer” said the critic. I speak again, “I don’t give a damn if I’m right or wrong. I will change people by showing them our world simply as it is; deep down inside they know this is true! It is all a reflection of our corrupt universe that offers no solace but hope while elites continue on in murder and monopoly, it is this idea of hope that has only given us shit and democide.” “What is true? Showing men committing bestiality? Saying there is no God as repeated for over a century? You’re nothing but a hack wishing to gain attention for his crimes!” said the critic. “What crimes? This is everyday violence; you simply ignore it and refer to it as a tragedy. It is no tragedy; this is the way of life, it is Social Darwinism prophesized by the divine Marquis! To do away with it is to do away with the society that created it, a solution through artistic genocide. This is necessity; one cannot overcome reality without having first faced it.” I speak again. “I sincerely doubt that the essence of Good is a crippled dwarf, or champions of capital punishment fuck on a mountain in celebration. This is obscene. Enough of your ‘mirrored’ world, people want the truth” said the critic. In defiance, “I am giving it to them” The critic shakes his head, bemused. I speak once more, “You hate people like me don’t you? It is of course obscene but people need obscenity! Enough of this cushy world where imaginary characters are created to live in a tedious cycle of life, death, triumph, love, and freedom, enough of these anecdotal biographies written exclusively for money, enough of everything that rebuilds people as puppets meant to follow the words of an invented prophet such as your Ayn Rand. We NEED work that will fuckin’ murder our glee and take with it our restraining morals. To gut punch us and implant it’s terrible voice in us” foaming from the mouth “We need violence to show violence! There must be this conclusion, the end of the moral coda and the end of the meaningless life and with it the end of meaning. No more a truth to be found, that absolution may only be a word to satiate the herd while men lie and give of them selves to nothing, and they die for nothing. Only in the extremes may we find what we have ignored, the Gray. Love and hate, horror and the paradise, are the same. No different to fly or fall. I do not propose to know of the truth, nor the proper way of life; but I know what is wrong, and that is the slavery of today encompassing Social, Religious, and Economic varities. Before each and every ritualistic task to find oneself, one must recognize what is around them and the idea of Good & Evil being the supreme Lie given to us by our kind and loving society, though well-intentioned it became the greatest kind of propaganda. Secondly, one must react to it. ”

The critic gives a good review of the boy’s work. They quickly undress and begin to fuck like student and teacher. … I peel away a piece of dead skin from my face, nuisance hangnails amputated with nail clippers, pieces of me fall onto this very paper with a single drop of blood, I wipe off this waste and continue onward. I, not we, you could never understand me no matter what lengths I reach, and I say that out of relenting to a truth and not a defeat nor condensation. I alone must commit transgressions out of invented mysticism; therein I will be created as I see myself and not as I dream in writing. An individual and selfish trait usually referred to as martyrdom by people who do not wish to create themselves but only follow that which has been created. I feel this is a trait that links subversion, atrocity, and glory. To be a martyr is to give your self over to the masses, and then be reinterpreted to be more appealing. When you become the individual, you are the in-understandable entity like the Sphinx or Stonehenge; the ritual and the God cemented in time. There I am in this limbo, muted colors flow from above; you can taste these colors by licking the air. Who am I? I am the one who desires to be the OverMan, to laugh at every weak last man. What am I? A man that remains hindered by what he has. With a hacksaw, I set about decapitating my self, to free mind and body as separate entities. The pain soon subsides, a fetus levitates off in the distance, there is me in the mirror and my desire. The stage has been set for metaphysics, but this body needs freedom from this reality constructed for it. Only there may mind and body become whole and separated into eternal entities of absolution. My brain is above me, awaiting me, my body is like cement in water; eating of the fish and viscera that swim by it while still rooted to this world. I will become as I desire, to confront reality and conquer it and to map out my self and remake it. Take all that you despise, use that as the catalyst for the new body like wood to the fire. When I see myself, I see only so much to still be done. … Of Nine Eleven: From the viewpoint of a misguided martyr not at all different from a child wishing to emulate dead mentors Knife in briefcase, could not believe how easy it is to fool these bastards. The others were very anxious and I was worried that the others in the other planes would back out like in the Conspiracy to murder Lincoln or some other fuck up would occur. The plane takes off. The plane is a little away so I motion to the others that the time is right. Brandishing our weapons and doing our best English, screaming aloud in a tall and arrogant voice.

“We have a bomb on this plane” My fellows were breaking down the door to the cabinet as I secured the rest. I then quickly ran in and bound the flier’s hands with those plastic handcuffs that idiots use to tie up toys and loose wires. One of the pilots pissed himself and I took the reigns of the plane, and then ordered the others to secure the passengers. My fellows went at it with but a few hostages were allowed others to gather in the back and phone whomever they wished, it was the least we could do, it would not matter; we feed the mouse before we feed it to the snake. The tower is within range; I fly into the top-middle trying to get the best possible shot. Collision. We die in flames. People scream. People will film it. And I will be immortal. Praise be to Allah, and let I be remembered. [Ending with a very average man committing what is only a spectacular suicide to prove he is something more then simply human] Even now I have not committed the most despicable of things as accorded by the moral guardians and do you know what that is? To say that 9/11 was a staged event. No room for the politic, they are a thing you cannot preach, for the insipid refuse to even listen and only condemn, this prejudice of knowledge. Êö”ºÆ_ Ö×ØÙÚÛÜ -£¼ªÙÆ @™Çö”ºÆ_@ __ __ __ __ __ ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Only an excuse to cross a bridge, such as a meaningless parlay- like you would bring up the mundane only to get to that crass joke or make a point on the day-. Such a revolt of misguided proportions, he would even speak ‘the artist crucifies them. The artist crucifies all of them.’ … _ þª_ «_ _«_ _«_ _«_ _«_ «_ «_ «_ _«_ _«_ _«_ _«_ _«_ _«_ _«_ -«_ «_ "«_ ì²_ î²_ ð²_ ò²_ ô²_ ö²_ ø²_ ú²_ ü²_ þ²_ ³_ _³_ _³_ _³_ _³_ _³_ _³_ _³_ _³_ _³_ _³_ -³_ ³_ "³_ $³_ &³_ (³_ The other two would be restrained and forced to watch: the longhaired one has her hands handcuffed behind her back, her legs tied and held apart. She is cut along the thighs with a box cutter, the blade invades underneath her toenails, her hair is ripped out and stuffed into her mouth, her eyelids are held open while a match is struck and falls onto an eyeball, the cunt is spread open to greet one intrusive lit match, a breast carved into, the fat is expunged and replaced with cotton. The image of Shiva and Kali are tattooed upon her forehead and pubis. A climax is not a necessity to affect people, like a staged orgasm in pornography. When it is the moment caught in the twilight at the height of an extreme that is the necessity. Think of a boring film/book that is remembered or the weak man who became a killer. …

“I should’ve had the abortion; I should’ve had the abortion” My mother, speaking to me when I was nine years old…Suddenly that sentence just sprang into my mind so suddenly. One boy very much in accordance to what is the outsider finds his vices, and he becomes dominated by them-mimicry- becoming just as the other humans, one who putrefies while living in dreams. He is torn by the complex nature of his deranged mother, and feels intimidated by his father, which yields him to his mother. Slowly becoming aware of his errors, yet still pious to delusion, and still buried in limbo while thinking of cruel ideas. He finds an angel in fuckery; he begins to learn new things. An angel in philosophy visits him; he thinks new things. One day he no longer thinks and sets about to be what he has always dreamed of being. OverMan. The writer may be god but the writer is also a slave to their creation. If the creation fails, the writer must abandon it and forget it or destroy it and rebuild it anew. If it succeeds the writer is forced to outdo it or perish in its ravages; if not the writer is forced to create clones of his creation. One man approaches me, spouting on and on about how I am a threat to humanity and have perverted previously innocent children. He continues to harasses me for the appraisal of all freedoms and of all men in which every thinker is the Iconoclast; as he referred to me as a cancer to his utopia that had never existed. ‘Turns out he hasn’t even read of my work, so I hand him a copy while saying with an arrogant smile “judge not les ye be judged” and I leave him my email address. Weeks later amidst many emails, I received a message from this man. He tells me how my work has changed him and he has given up his ways and became an organ donor then helped bastard children by giving them much-deserved toys, and most surprisingly of all, he has donated to pro-choice agencies to raped mothers. How I wish this was true and this man existed instead of merely writing this paragraph of fiction to create a counter-image. Am I no better then he? Write to me at Etuvivrainelterrore@Gmail.com … Idols riding in Cadillac’s with open tops down a poorly planned parade, they look no different from a walking billboard, such as a living deformity attributed to Teflon poisoning. I am part of the crowd and dressed in the skin of Jack Ruby; I take careful aim and fire the fatal shot at one such idol no different from any other. This one hollow point round makes contact with the face, and dead center down the nasal cavity. The idol now resembles victims of nerve gas through a heavily deformed mouth and face, like a horse with its face blasted off and its body dragged throughout the streets, my way of giving them a purpose through a stupendous demise. That is the me who subscribes to violence being an immortal action.

That is, Immortality by Immorality. What an insipid, and at once brilliant and proven thought that violence in it self may grant eternity. A road traveled by the most insane of men; your Albert Fish, your Idi Amin, your lord Heliogabalus, and your artist. It is no better then to carve into a tree. We soon forget that the tree will die. “If God is dead… Must we not become gods ourselves to seem worthy of it? “ NIETZSCHE The Gray (in Tao terminology) that embodies man, for it is gray which grants us the ability to do both positive and negative at once. This Gray would now be truthfully recognized… and not as the purgatory or the void that is filled, but the totality of all creation. As ‘Do what thou wilt’ is not the pass to commit atrocity, but to only be human, and once we see what we are fully capable of there may be created the second paradise. The first paradise was the one created by Cavemen freed of restriction. Though, debatable as to what exactly restriction is. It may be an invented reality (such as what we have now) or reality in itself (an unchangeable thing). This applies to the mass and not in it self to the individual. Such as Jonestown, which was a reality founded by one man, with a herd that latched onto that, thereby placing themselves within another paradigm without pursuing a personal freedom -just another escapism- and perished in that reality. Whereas the individual is free to create as he pleases and walk away from that mass and his debts. His is entirely manifest. See also Perspectivism. … The book posses the author; becoming a surrogate brain of what we desire to be, no better than a log of dreams or a diary filled with paintings about as understandable as a blank piece of paper. The book becomes a map of the thought process or the external memory of ancient humans. I see it as a scarification process much like a live autopsy committed by our brains upon this limited body, no better or worse then the monk who set himself aflame. … A dead oak tree lies in the middle of a dirt field; old condoms hang from the dead branches while icy cum drips down onto mud along the road to an Orgiastic Heaven: Where man and rhino are united by a speared anus. One octopus pleasures eight women while eating pubescent girls feet first-but not before drowning them with a flood of ink. men and women fused to create bee hives joined by the hip as their genitals are the gateways for such bees where bears pluck these hives, bite into them and drink the honey. Women are impaled from anus to throat by giraffe necks, each giraffe adorned with this human necklace. Clean-shaven people are laid as the ground and ceiling to every last species of bats, these people are the toilet and the nest for the bats, for that shit to be eaten, and bodies hollowed out and homes for dozens of bats. Tigresses with immense clitorises rape young boys whose limbs are rooted in cement, the tigresses generally bite

off the ears and claws the backs of each child during the hourly penetration, and how they mimic male orgasm and urinate into the mouth of each boy. Men enjoy the splendor of birds that lift them up onto a bed of spikes; the remains are fed to young children as vomited by the birds. Pigs would bite off the fingers and toes of men and laugh while the men struggled to grab and stand. Horses would trample the old and invalid after a lifetime of suffering; where ducks and chickens would be lifted up to their faces and scratch out their eyes, or plow the fields tied by their breasts or genitals, along with previous and unheard atrocities, as newborn children are fed alive to komodo dragons. Yet, that one angelic woman that stood out was subjected to the very worst; being lifted to the sky and forced to watch it all for a lifetime. In Heaven. … Jerry Fallwell, Pat Robertson, and Billy Graham are the recipients of retribution for every man to be given a smite by a fascist, or for every man to have come so far and believe in personal freedom… only to be reminded of these wretched men and the will to be rid of them. Fallwell is strangled to death by a leather strap. Robertson is gutted and thereon stuffed with the many pamphlets promising one land for the Christian and the triangle-eye of the dollar. Graham is ignored entirely, and he and his offspring disintegrate, there exists no real life to a thing if it does not make a human connection either positive or negative…It is not to ignore a virus, but to isolate it. Religion spreads by the ears and eyes, when a virus is then isolated and cannot grow; it then rots from the inside. That I realize too late, and am now executed for murder. … "Let the most insulting blasphemy, the most atheistic works next be fully and openly authorized, in order to complete the extirpation from the human heart and memory of those appalling pastimes of our childhood; let them be put in circulation the writings most capable of illuminating the Europeans upon a matter so important, and let a considerable prize, to be bestowed by the Nation, be awarded to him who, having said and demonstrated everything upon this score, will leave to his countrymen no more then a scythe to mow the land clean of all those phantoms, and a steady heart to hate them. In six months, the whole will be done; your infamous god will be as naught," Marquis De Sade To murder the epitome of faith and beyond, to defy all others and insult them brutally like the coward, to outdo human capacity: The artist aims at this so revered and holy target. This is my great transgression; for I may never look back again, for it necessary if nothing but for my inner peace, and once there you can never go back to what you were: Jesus approaches with a solemn look and with hands laid low and open, I say ’free me’ and he then walks over with a gesture to kiss his bloodied feet. I stab him with my pen in his ribcage, clutched by my left hand, and now painted with blood and dirt. Using this pen as a lever to lift him before a giant sheathe of sheet metal with a white crucifix

painted before, cementing him there by thousands of pens to crucify this dead hypocrisy. A figure riddled with protrusions, like an Indian fakir fallen upon his bed of spikes, kept alive now by these very words that wish to torture him more with metal pens imbedded into palm and wrist. I cannot let such a thing die by a bourgeois mechanism such as the crucifixion. Therefore, he is lowered into a vat of boiling lead, consumed and now recycled into a tool for every man that thinks, both pen and rifle. I hate to plagiarize; but I have committed another meme formation of your jesus, at best he shall evolve into a phantasm long forgotten, at worst another kind of ideology. Something that Atheist and Iconoclast so worship, the destruction of a man they do not believe in, what wretched people these must be to invent their enemies such as your religious extremists and each and every last herd. What evolution we have come across, to go over the same old same old. I see god: This obese hermaphrodite figure, with crooked teeth emitting ‘round the mouth and down the chin, and ratty hair and one hundred arachnid eyes. With fingernails showing skewed remnants of little men, and a belly and breasts covered with the filth of dancing angels mocking tortured humans in cages. With a body hair like the forest and a prick miniature and syphilitic, an ugly cunt is the gateway to paradise and saint peter being a louse. Dead children fall into god’s mouth and eaten in its slack jaw like a Roman being fed grapes by his chained prostitute. I throw his whores and his meals away from him and into space; it pleads with me without emotion, like a child saying ’I’m sorry’ with a lifeless tone. It offers me immortality with no morality so long as I rejoice in putrid faith. My right fist connecting a one-inch punch to its skull, the noise of a jet breaking the sound barrier erupts while the face falls to atoms. Falling out of a throne made from human bone and crowned by fetal fossils, tearing away the crooked jaw and pulling out each of its one hundred eyes. My nails are now dirty and covered in blood and sinew. The cunt penetrated by my pen clutched in my left palm; with a pistol held by my right hand, I fire six hollow point rounds into the abdomen, legs, prick and balls. The pen blasts poison ink down a tainted uterus, an ink no different then a flesh-eating virus. The king is dead.

Finale The me whom I desire to become witnesses the best & worst of humanity: Abraxas I write of a fine escapism. One that requires all the energy needed to crush a minute insect -so easily in reach to an average man who gives birth to nonsense dreams- but there are cripples that envie such men. Hypothesis: For every action committed (referring to a Tao of Joy and Pain), a kind of energy is emitting that mirrors string theory in the joining of two opposing ideologies. It is a kind of energy to wallow in the wake of Kierkegaard’s ‘Single Individual’, in particular a ‘sea of individuals’ united in totality. Like how radioactivity emanates over time and poisons the inhabitants over an undetermined period; if such energy were genuine, it can then be inferred that both saint and Madman are the result of genetics. Such as the Holocaust influencing a half-Jewish man, with a wife indifferent to Judaism whose son then carries this kind of baggage. This also references Jung’s theories on the Family tree and Eternal Reccurence. In metaphysics: to create an individual (in the ‘enlightened’ sense) is by a continual process in thought and doing in order to overcome limitation while separating oneself from the herd. This creates the genius both tortured and divine, and men that the masses will not remember, because ‘enlightenment’ is a solipsist activity. That is voided when the genius creates something in order to connect him to his herd; often art is that attempt. In reality: one becomes individual by retaining popular ideas as created by the original genius; like manufacturing plants that create cheap imitations. One cannot become an individual in reality. From the artist, dictator, and fucker each and every last one is an imitation of another… proving right Kierkegaard and Jung. For the idea/dream: As we only know 1% of the universe, the dream is all that remains. What if such positive and negative energy gave birth to one man via the great and evil Abraxas beyond only an idea but created here and now. What would this man be? A flow Sacred: Knowing a man and his attempt at conquering limitation. Finale: He gives birth to an individual that cannot exist-abortion-. Return: Purgatory state. Man thinks he is individual and attempts to conquer nihilism. Incomplete/broken Man is born and gives one sermon promoting an artistic genocide. An author counters this, promoting the ideal of the masses being wood to the fire. The ‘Tower’ is referenced,

such an idea of a paradise that retains this idea of society. I recognize the value of society. I recognize the value of eugenics. All this leads to a new society; once this world dies and is reborn. … Multi-colored mammals lay out, stabbed, shot, executed By the millions. Bowels lacerated, mammals vomiting shit and blood. Among this New excreta, ankle deep in a newfound blood tide In waves, in rivers, amassed in a small pool of fat creatures as men stand in the muck prodding dying animals singing sweetly in unnoticed sighs. Yet another and another gashed, torn open, fountains of the divine essence, in a ritual swirling of all things, joining, becoming, all united in pain, pleasure, & pity in a visceral ink, endlessly. An ink without conscience; only hard-externalized memory. A needle and thread arrived from flesh hallows of dying slaves; little mouths violently react to a bio-mechanic deep throat by needle and twine, bridging ones and twos and threes united as one enumerable creature. The needle/thread are now the magic wand of a creator who mends a unity between things never meant to coexist; cats and walruses, mice and birds, two-headed cattle and dead men hung across the skies and replace telephone wires, bringing a new communication through a semblance of maggots where the citizenry writhe in a new and living ink. Otherwise, what is orgiastic and good without mantra are impounded by vanity and good cruelty. Scorpion tails are amputated through genetic regression; the scorpion no longer kills but prefers to die by its one time prey like Quang Duc who did not fight but preferred to die in a martyr-fashion. A sign of the times being a waste of resources. A woman volunteers to have her teeth pulled out; the teeth are removed and are then planted in the desert and give birth to untold acres of snow. Scorpion stingers are fitted as her new dentures, and we see drops of venom falling down her throat. Throngs of people in a brown valley; flowers stick out among atrocity photographs and old soda cans littering patches of tall grass. One photograph displaying dead children killed in the West Bank atrocities fills an empty Coca-Cola can. These people proceed very solemnly through a path; every twenty steps they stop to pick the flowers. After two miles of this, they rest atop a tree stump with arms filled with flowers. They proceed to rub the flowers in their eyes, soaking poison and pollen, awash in the fury of gathering bees and mating insects, thorns scratch the corneas along with inflamed eye sockets. Tears fall from now distorted faces onto a handful of undisturbed flowers clutched in the hands of a little girl pigeon-toed. The flowers bloom in deep shades of red and blue. Nests of bats are poisoned; mid-flight the drug kicks in and they are left dying in grassy fields being visited by merciless sunlight and the thirsty fly. By the way side of these

dying bats are the birth-process: gigantic mud puddles with tumourous bulges, reindeer watch over this in a protective manner as one giant reindeer oversees the operation; its horns are made from human fingers, and for this it declares itself the king of Eden. Out from the mud emerge young children born into a pantheon, animals of the forest partake in tearing off the wings from the previous dying bats and then suture these wings into the backs and temples of the children. The children sing in alien voices –relying entirely on body language, each child signals the depths of their torture- as the sun baptizes the bodies in molten gold. Two men embrace before a burial pit of hermaphrodites and fetal deformities that are speared and now preserved in oddly sexual positions, as though De Sade wrote the Karma Sutra and this fills with illustrations. The men commit to their passions; and sperm falls down the esophagus’ of corpses. One woman seated like a monk with palms folded and introvert. Her hair begins to fall, joyful faces everywhere, over a muddy floor that cradles a comatose people submitted to invisible bolts of electricity which puppeteer an aimless frenzy. These people are fed cowhide, are then placed in one pile to vomit their meal; on top of that are placed the finger and toe nails torn ‘way. As that cancerous woman like the virgin monk, watches like an idol witnessing innumerable sacrifices. Fallen teeth cover this pile then set upon a pyre. The strong man leads herds of animals into tar pits. Animals drown and are encased in tar. The man has the bodies dragged out and are set as stairs leading to the next ambition. No need to describe, which has been foretold too numerous a vision: But here is one before you, this very ink. Look and touch upon this blank, and here is your universe: Swarms of greenish twigs with insect faces, open sores sending loud vibrations, without voice and without the passions-angels before mankind-it becomes a mirror of a homeless people in bondage with closed eyes. While those eyes reveal images of Abu Graihb: Malcolm X: America’s conscience is bankrupt. She lost all conscience a long time ago. Uncle Sam has no conscience. They don’t know what morals are. They don’t try and eliminate an evil because it’s evil, or because it’s illegal, or because it’s immoral; they eliminate it only when it threatens their existence. So you’re wasting your time appealing to the moral conscience of a bankrupt man like Uncle Sam. If he had a conscience, he’d straighten this thing out with no more pressure being put upon him. So it is not necessary to change the white man’s mind. We have to change our own minds. You can’t change his mind about us. We’ve got to change our minds about each other. We have to see each other with new eyes. We have to see each other as brothers and sisters. We have to come together with warmth so we can develop unity and harmony that’s necessary to get this problem solved ourselves. Three Japanese women sit to watch a one man play performed by a hunchback; the man proceeds to play with a small dog. Two old men in overalls haul a crosscut saw over to the women in attendance. The women applause greatly, lovingly, when the two men took

that saw to their necks and behead them. The three heads drop in an orderly manner as the puppy licks the man’s face, Buddhist sutras falls from the bleeding neck stumps, and in those eyes for those last ten seconds of life are the reprieve of a million lives. Foetal bodies are hollowed out, computer parts are built into the cadavers; these computers produce modern children literature. A procession of bodies cut apart and sorted on a conveyor belt by grinning senior workers that dismember an unending multitude of bodies where the remains are fed into a furnace. I do not know if was an energy plant, a meat packing plant, or a mass crematorium. A man named Arundhati obsessed with cunnilingus; his home is enveloping and has a moist air that you could feel upon entering a fog of semen. In his brain played out a collage of every kind of cunt that could be imagined: black, white, yellow and brown, pierced and infected, hairy and prepubescent. He falls into another world Among reddish/pink walls drowning in a kind of urea/saliva, think of a man trapped in his attic with flooding water. This new universe where he is cradled like a planetary fetus, to feel every last sensation down to the molecular level… he becomes a new kind of circuitry for supreme pleasure. The pleasures sweep away every desire and want, all needs evaporate as starvation begins to set. An amusing sight to see a skeleton at orgasm; then he consumes the flesh and begins to taste humanity, absorbing a macrocosm of our narcissism and joy. The universe contracts Each tremor of fruition What is not ritual but New pain and pleasure The TAO fully realized In a man to die by his pleasure To become the next evolution From the cunt emerges this man, Arundhati, born as the Harlequin Fetus. Among a slave nation, a stillborn creature falls. The workers kick at the body, cursing it for being unable to work. The elites stab at the body with their umbrellas, cursing it as a useless thing as if it were a temple of knowledge. The beggars rape this body, infecting it with the sweet venom of pity. The animals gnaw at this body and see it no differently then water in the river. Your wise and bitter god and Nietzsche use the body as a metaphor; it is the mantle of the entirety of earth to be displayed and judged, this hammer of the gods. Blood pulling up from the desert floor; young girls are subjected to circumcision rituals, the immature clit is nailed onto their foreheads.

Among the massacres of the Indians, one soldier’s scalped brain becomes the map of new sensations: He sees a middle-aged nude woman, arms chained above her via wiring; she is a spider web of tubing, a new kind of human circuitry. Her eyelids taped to a close by electric tape; she dreams of paradise and weeps, tape began to slowly peel, tears fall with ebbing blood. … Chapter 3 How Candide escaped from the Bulgars, and what happened to him afterwards “Those who have never seen two well-trained armies drawn up for battle, can have no idea of the beauty and brilliance of the display. Bugles, fifes, oboes, drums, and salvoes of artillery produced such harmony as Hell itself could not rival. The opening barrage destroyed about six thousand men on each side. Rifle-fire which followed rid the best of worlds of about nine or ten thousand villains who infested its surface. Finally, the bayonet provided ‘sufficient reason’ for the death of several thousand more. The total casualties amounted to about thirty thousand. Candid trembled like a philosopher, and hid himself as best he could during this heroic butchery.” The young philosopher belched as he stepped upon the remnants of little brother and sister. Each thought strained to be produced from such obvious epiphanies that could be drawn out by a boy who has yet to know what is greatness and what is a reality –like it were a bullet wound ebbing with error & vice, collecting among a pool of individuals, and bleeding out to the very final drop of existence though it were mohammed personified in bacterium. That fine thought did come among the sweeping euphoria of epileptic convulsions and tremors of faint orgasms. With a fist planted at each pillar of cadavers, with a scream, and expelled in a putrid verse ‘Let there be a new mankind’ spoken by Candide in a manner both plain and obnoxious. A silver ship descends, fire bellows from its bottom, lighting ricochets off the surface and into Candide’s very eyes. Gigantic creatures with arachnid faces and bird torsos exited the craft and greet him. While survivors stood and watched when these creatures spoke ‘What you know as man is only a conduit, a statue of dead men’ and then leave, Candide proceeded to fuck child corpses; their orgasms shall be his philosophy, and the sunlight his dinner. … ‘Let there be a new mankind that does not wallow in the latrines of dead men’

One hand appears of our as-yet-to-be-born individual. It touches one plastic mask, woodcarved masks ‘round the world burn; each pore on the hand becomes an eye and a gateway, it sees what you are. On the Virginia Tech Massacre: My boy, you are one who does not know of much more agreeable targets. You see ‘immortality by immorality’, which is a flawed structure. Why don’t you partake in a more satisfying execution, such as the extinction of the creators of such insipid creatures? To murder only the insipid is a waste of energy; it is like setting out to destroy every usless insect on the planet, not only pointless but you fail to strike at the very heart of the matter. A lab mouse in its cage set in a sterile environment, in the corner is a homely woman with glasses and yellow dish gloves. The oxygen is plain and disinfected, a hospital all the better without a consumer. The woman proceeds to extract the mouse… Mouse: Please cease what you are about to do; I am not one to be sacrificed for nothing. Woman: Why not? What I’m about to do may save innumerable lives. Therein will be delivered my sainthood and your martyrdom. Wouldn’t you do the same? Mouse: Yes I would; but that would be performed on a more deserving creature. Woman: Such as? Mouse: Those inhuman deformities you knowledgeable types like to call ‘individualists’ if life itself is divine (to ignore Schopenhauer) why pluck from its womb, such cherished and meaningful creatures as I and every other? Is it not your tyrants, your impoverished, the unknown depths of deformities that should be the fuel to the fire? Woman: Eugenics: A series of unsuccessful experiments. Mouse: But doctor, what separates you from those very scientists at Auschwitz and Unit 731? You may say that you’re black and that alone separates you as far as racial duties. But that is only a matter of pigment. If pigmentation and this idea of genetic unity among fellows is your defense, I could so easily deconstruct it: Genetic unity is a lie. When parts may so easily be assembled by the most unskillful of creatures, that we are unified in such an insipid factory. Yet we are created blank; any individualist traits may be so easily explained as simple auteur theory. The whole of humanity can be broken down to mechanic a motivation: that tree that grows to become your paper that is scribbled upon by your children –domino theory and interconnectedness-, your art and culture-but elitism and the remaking of an idea-. Even what I speak is pilfered dialogue. Woman: So if life offers no real individuality, and this is due to a bio-mechanic paradigm. Then I ask again, why should I spare you?

Mouse: But you see at what I’m getting at? Why should I perish when you can use any other? What we think grants us individuality, is only fading memory. It is that which creates any kind of identity. Woman: Incorrect. What is real is real and not perception. Memory may be cheated by physical markings with violence, love, and barcodes. You in fact prolong life with metaphysics. No. It is technology, growth; the third eye rebuilt… enough of your bullshit. The mouse protests while being placed inside a small window box. The woman manipulates robotic fingers and hypodermic extensions via remote control, as a now tortured mouse mutters a sentence struggling to be profound. The stomach is slit open, the intestines criss-crossed with plastic tubing, veins plugged into black electronic boxes, a Star of David is excised from a beating heart housing the remains of lynched blacks and whites. A South Korean boy lays waste to whitey and darkie. Shooting a woman in the gullet, she vomits flowers. By a grin and muffled voice armed with distinctly feminine pistols-such weaponry is no longer phallic when misused, such as a dyke armed with a strap on- at close range, emptying entire clips into the torsos of men and women. What is individual? Not creation in itself, or the will to break away from herd mentality, the individual lies in neither extremes or profound awakening nor even Gray, but only in oblivion. Just as Kierkegaard was no more individual then a radical priest to be triumphed by Nietzsche. No more then Sade was a more talkative Vlad or Genghis Khan. There is your god and master, your new jesus per century, your car crash/crucifixion and your viral phrases. There is your individual: A stillborn fetus. Feel it, know it, it is our delusion and god. It is the cancer I neglect and my last futility and final bridge there may be. Total freedom is a lie. Without structure, this class system-paradigm- what are we then but a people without language, without escapism, without a Gray, in other words Haiti, a country with a people who have not gone much farther then creating the wheel and fire. A nothing. I recant once idealist values; I favor building for something, an attempt at anything for what we will never realize. Be it eugenics or free enterprise.

The individual is born. The Great Individual: A handsome face stabbed and re-worked, a screaming face that spits. A tongue made from human faces, winking as it clicks and smiling as it lies. Here is what I give you, our god and master, your prophet and mentor, your martyr and rapist, your saint and chameleon, this Tao of pain and creation. Here, I am a man that wreaks their brain to create something, only to see another summit to surpass. White hands with short fingernails, palms are painted with tar, every fine hair has been plucked; no imperfection shall dampen a fine cannibalistic meal this moment in time I take from you, how well you feed me with blood and brains. There I am as a man that rapes the earth; I take your little joys and little death and will transform them into far greater things, through art and crucifixion. The torso is my mirror; here the roach may survive without a head till the end of time, the well of vice and greatness. Each body hair upon you is a wire brimming with electricity, to touch me would be enlightenment and to die for a cause. But there I am as someone who struggles, one that creates everything and becomes nothing. The legs are great serpents without need for genitals; they wrap around you and caress, be enlightened and look into my tongue. The feet are defiled with shit, the perfume attracts herds of animals, and each toenail is infinite and is marked with the portraits of saints and madmen. A nasal cavity deep and violent, as ethereal as a rainforest while stealing your oxygen. And now these eyes, red and deformed about to burst then and now from the strain of knowing, knowing I and you, and it is dead. The Individual caresses an emaciated torso atop a Gray planet. Stars bloom, a smile brings on erect legs to swoon such a torso, unity in great things: an idea and a mutilated body.

A Return Would you think I hate people or am alone? I only resent mistakes; hence this thing, this book of mine. Life is my only burden and I completely empathize with Bunuel in that he only wanted to live in dreams. This book remains as a continual mirror, but how could anyone write down the entirety of himself when the ‘Will’ is given shape by ink, blood, and hardware? How could we possibly take this incredible force that is beyond perception, and illustrate it for a third party? How many great men have poured out everything they could into the arts, and in technology, and so on… endless volumes appear for each of these humans, and we still do not understand them. A bit of hair falls out, with each hair soaked with oil and a bit of scalp root giving a cocaine-like appearance, and each hair tells me a bit about myself: One would like to see an accident on the side of the road; the hair would be the catalyst for this event. It would not matter if people died or not, only that it did something in the third person and that it was felt. One day there was a pigeon by the roadside, the hair had attempted to crush it but the bird had flew away. Another would want to keep a pubescent girl as a slave, fuck her occasionally but ultimately enjoy her in all avenues. If she had no pubic hair, it would cut off the mane from a rabid dog and glue that hair upon her pubis. How lovely would it be to see a clitoris encased in fleabites. This one dreams of great blasphemies; it would spit on crucifixes, stab at mormon and muslim and buddhist with great vigor and strength -not the kind befitting an Atheist, nor the drone, not the mere shit-stirrer, and not a single man alone-. This one would be a herd formed into a single warrior. Tearing up bibles then praised and reviled. It will be the murderous hero to destroy every last superstructure, then suicide it self upon a throne of guns and old manifestos. This hair would soak it self with lighter fluid and other chemicals, and then be immolated. Yet again, this one seeks martyrdom. It would want to die on live television by suicide or assassination just as it delivers a particularly scathing remark. A twin to the others, but one of two colors, my dyed and natural hair color that wants to live and enjoy life in excess of nobility, and to be that one great man. It then tells me things I needed to know, that there is several conspirators here: One wants to ruin me then re-create me as a drone. One last would like to see me as a prostitute and nothing more. A humanistic side wants children if only to name them upon my mentors. This leader being the head of this little group tells me I should end it, I am not an author, I am not a creator, I am only a thing no different then the leaf. “Okay” I say to the hair “How do you propose I fight them?” It speaks “You must combat them.” But how then do you fight better judgment? It gives no further response. People don’t want art; they believe they may create a meaning out of fruitless endeavors.

Only art can love art. Those who love art without creating only seek it out of emulation of their desires. How must I fight them? How will I fight them? Praise? Great success, great deeds, great obscenity, great virtue, great spirit, beloved people, the herd, the mere animal, the pet, the toy, escapism, infinity, useless. I realize one thing that I have been suppressing for some time. Writing is for cavemen. Why do I, why should I only create an emulation of what I see? That is all it is when the primitive witnesses a deer disemboweled and eaten; it creates pictures, same as if we invent. The exception would be the thought process, how else do we paint what we think? Unless you only think upon simplistic matters, that kind of thinking isn’t interesting in the end, like examining a rat brain and charting banality; it’s just another type of purgatory. I see myself as the drone locked by his chain; this book becomes a letter to be smuggled out into the hands of free humans and warn other minds to awaken the slaves. It would be a total riot in the prison; great art and rage merge into a living spectacle of a man feeling suicidal revolution; not a one that he would destroy himself for, but one he knows will beget his annihilation. Atrocity. That is the accent, both conclusion and catalyst to a society that does not work. A thing made in a dystopia; in that the atrocity is the catalyst for new order and new tactics along with the deaths to the king and queen and cronies, the end of an era devoured by another. This is Social Darwinism as the worm ouroboros. If you break it down much more, you can see that the atrocity is only unfiltered communication; from within you is carved onto the body and land of another. No art may do justice to this when one is true and pure in great violence. The nature of violence is to escape from reality by unmaking it. … I see a circle; within the circle are untold numbers of people fused to religious artifacts with each overlapping the other: The circle is one universe housing innumerable planets. One planet just beyond our own houses men and women in the midst of fuckery projected before a Star of David giving way to a tide of human fluid, where we see men crucified to these stars, their falling blood is our comets, their screams our thunder, and their orgasms become our lightening. One other planet has a floor piled with amputated hands; above this pile is a weeping black man emitting red sunlight, and each tear resembles falling napalm. One looming planet where bestiality is encouraged, the emerging children from man/animal fusion look like angels with wings splitting from the back. Two tiny planets -which plays all too well in this macrocosm- within grasp of the other. One occupied by men, the other with women; in the center of the two planets there is born one looming hermaphrodite… birth of god from man, this Roman universe consumed in the orgiastic. The last planet inhibits

the ode to joy, a totality of love and hate in sweet chaos and total freedom via one mountainous tower in a city; this planet shall be spoken of much later. … A grotesque human where no sexuality may be defined that is hidden by emerging tumors and dirty flesh lay out in the heart of space. With a putrifying planet-shaped torso, laid out for eons while a long tumor hangs from his lower jaw extending from the chin past his left eye and into the scalp: he is a landscape imagined by Bosch and Joe Coleman. Nothing happens while the tumors age with a host immobile and uncaring, and relents to everything. The body is overwhelmed, slowly becoming one indescribable mass curled in a fetal position. That is your modern man who lives and dies. Out of that emerges a new parasite, one that may speak and hold a consciousness and as enormous as a mite, and just as compelling and fearsome. A parasite requiring all of the attention and spite as we would a deaf mute – this single bacterium pious to one and only fusion, a mantra so sacred to the herd-. From there stood alien creatures with a mutant origin, splintered by tribes, and no more human then fantasia spewed by wretched minds. Until one deformity spoke as pretentious as he could, and emerging with a language just as toxic as his species “Glorious is the man who stands up to die.” This was the beginning of a Roman society, one of divided classes and a divinity in madness when futility and mortality overwhelmed the senses… therein Decadence. What has emerged has been the classic structure of the elites and proletariat recited ad infinity. This once great Dionysian structure perverted by dead men and animals laid out side by side with erect pricks as the conduit for ebbing desire, with carved open bodies resembled looming organic foxholes. Children play crude clay flutes while bloodied spears encircle the lot: Mars, Venus, and the Child. A light rainfall occurs as with rejoicing, blood and water spill out of abdominal cavities. For there is created ritual, thereon philosophy and tortured humanity; no different then society as that is nothing more then ritual. From there a woman’s head is held aloft, from that meaningless thing spills new humans from putrefying eyes. Sixteen men and women (eight per eye) poured out; these children of a new world emerge with a new primitivism. There they create a new society ratified in unified incest with new elites and new leaders, the pariahs are born and there is now nihilism, and from the drone there is now positivism. Out of all of this, the planet is rebuilt with isms and a new language- this they call the paradise- the sixteen children then split, each professing a will to life. Each child creates a new group, which begets the concept of morality, good and evil, monopolies, and the nature of life. Typical divide and conquer strategy to prevent unified freedom, then came the little man personified as shepherd and herd as one. Centuries later atop one misshapen mound drawn by magnetism between pain and viscera, and this one creature pulled itself from the wreckage and stood.

The Last Individual No gender was apparent for this creature at first with a height of 6’1 with barely a face, it could not be called a hermaphrodite or an evolved man, nothing human emanated from it. A third arm protruded from its chest that reaches below its knees, with raptor-like feet rooted on the haunches, and staring out with a crude face painted with yellow fingernail clippings arranged as three circles like eyes. White feathers drooped from the scalp, a mouth decorated with rows of knives and pens matching a long and black tongue, each hand came equipped with eight fingers, the third arm equipped with two thumbs parallel to the palm but with only three fingers, with a multi-colored skin tone; the chameleon made into man. It seemed to gesture with just a flick of all three hands in an upward motion, as though it spoke ‘one last manifesto’ and it bit off its tongue with black ink pouring from the wound. This is what spilled out onto the ground: God is not the invention, no opiate may suffice; the creation of a god is like the big bang, a social ejaculation I had seen a middle aged man rape three teenage girls about the age of fourteen and Asian and this man had raped each child through every available flesh vacuum, at one point forcing one girl to shit herself endlessly while he ejaculated onto her open eyes. There I sat watching them, without any spectacular epiphany or any great deal of empathy had emerged as I watched in quiet reservation. The man finished up, the girls were laid out in a circle in a drained and broken attitude. I had unsheathed my M-1911 Pistol and conducted it at the man while telling him to kneel and be silent. At the same time, my left hand brought out three appropriate blades and letting them land before the three girls in an expectant manner. I spoke in a monotone voice to these children “Do what thou wilt” while directing my pistol at the man. Revulsion had overwhelmed me to such a hysteric disbelief once these children told me the most inhuman thing I had ever heard. Without even glancing at the blades, they had explained to me that they will love this man, how they will remake him into the ideal lover, how splendid of a man he will be, and what a great life that would become. It would be nice to quote what exactly they had spoken, but my mind was too far gone in deep thought upon hearing such atrocious spectacle; this inhuman spirit based on a god who has never been there, this platitude which defies the very will of nature and humanity sans mass stupidity… yet stupidity recognizes itself for being such. I exploded “You! You violate the words of De Sade? You ignore what makes you, every essential component of humanity is a loss; you are inhuman! Your rapist, this most insipid of pederast, he at the very least pursued simple passions. For that he may not be faulted for if only to have the desire to carry out these

passions… he invites himself to have all manner of passions be taken out onto him whether murderous or simple, the ebb and flow of life in Master and Slave principals. Yet I gave you the tools to rise up and take upon him all that you have lost and wish to carve onto another in the infinity of violence and cathartic dreams. How you reject good fortune! Putrid cunts, you believe in fusion! Where the one needs the other to gain out of the lie of pacifism and goodness. There is one and only one! We use the other to gain out of conquest and manipulation; even your idols are guilty of this! The one is virus, the one is parasite, and the one is divine; that which is all that you ignore out of that pathetic will to ingest godly escapism of the drones who do not think! One is wretch, one is depraved, one is powerful, and one is De Sade, one is Darwin, one is Nietzsche, one is Goethe, and one knows when to act! The wise man walks away but only the fool takes it on his knees! Nihilism is the tool of the greatest of individuals, therein exists the mighty Sadist. Lo, you refuse logic and seek delusion, and that is your religion.” The man attempted to flee, so I shot him from behind just below his right kneecap. The pariah has the gift of invention for being handed morality and then refusing. I drag him by the wounded leg back to the girls and before those blades. Again, logic’s defied when the girls –in knowing they could not attack me and live- chose suicide. Two had slit their wrists, and one committed Hari Kari; she looked as though she was attempting to give herself head in such a position. The man said nothing. I had shot him an additional four times in the left kneecap, both elbows, and at the base of his spine with slug rounds. He rolled around pitifully while screaming. A pariah is only a thing that builds and dies. The manifesto ended, thousands have gathered to watch as the face of the creature began to give way; the likeness of Artaud had emerged, with a tongue no longer bleeding and a body emptied of verve. A sweet odor emanated from him like a candle burning skeletal debris as he raised his right arm coerced with remaining iota of strength, and Artaud offered his body to the masses. He is quickly eaten by the people who render free dry limbs without flavor, devoured and crushed on the spot. The manifesto was all that was left, and it could never be removed. Society had become hungry; it began to need absolution while being no longer aroused by the delusion of escape. A renewed passion began, recalling Dionysus and Osiris. Several centuries later: A people still in deep thoughts ringing with the tale left by that final individual; they realized that a zenith had been reached; no resources were left, nothing more to invent, and a kind of primitivism had now awakened. The end had come;

reaching metaphors from the wilting plant to the dog with rabies whose limbs quiver and collapse into itself with a drunken stupor. Mass suicides dictated by Schopenhauer-Idealism, wide-ranging depression, giving up on everything and laying down to rot. Entire armies forfeit, leaving tools and guns by the wayside as they walk back to their homes without a uniform. Prisons collapse with inmates casually jogging back into the cities committing simple passions. Churches remain decimated without a herd; the Vatican Bank has its assets plundered by bishops with businessmen fearing a proletariat uprising of all castes that would shower themselves with international coffers and Nazi gold. The corrupters assassinate each other; no anarchist need apply as one after another murdered each other, they remain as the cannibals holding that severed head –a last vestibule of power- before their fellow in dying ritual. Starvation, murder, total madness same as we know, be it the last time. The man/planet had died long ago, with his tumor feeding off his last bit of life; finally dying from prolonged starvation. Out in the heart of space: A centipede-like creature deflowers a cunt; the hymen is torn open as with tears of blood spilling out and creating a new planet. A new beginning, a valley without mirrors that female ejaculate drips down onto = man blooms once more. A new world without the words of dead men; they are cremated upon a dead planet as befitting a philosopher’s head on a pike, as are annihilated entire ideologies and the whole of morality and good and evil. Man created as they want without hindrance and therein dies once more. … When the herd begins to splinter off into single cells in anger and despair, the right catalyst is needed to set them off. The Hutu-Tutsi Genocide springs to mind in what has come and what may be. Here you had millions of people in conflict with the other. For months the anger and frustration at Hutus grew, until a radical broadcast sounded the alarms and the people were armed and slaughtered a million Tutsis, the details of such atrocity ring of the details encapsulating De Sade. Today we have millions of illiterate, homeless, and unemployed in this country all awaiting to be led and utilized, herein exploitation of resource and man’s true capacity are merged. … I had once believed in this dogma ‘Immortality by Immorality’ which suggests that one can find eternity in atrocity. I had given everything I had, every iota of strength to this doctrine where in the end I had created nothing. Such endeavors are no more glorious then a crush video with just as much callousness to a fellow. This is a Christian dogma: that violence in itself will free mankind that commits transgressions. Each religion dictates this approach to violence that without this body there is delivered your freedom. When it is without the insipid dialogue, without religion, without restraint, without

morality, without conduit, without artifice, without the masses and without shepherds, and with pain and joy, this greatness within Gray with what we discover as humanity. When we paint, as we fuck, as we give birth, there is no resolve for a ceaseless and ongoing ouroboros that only a mechanic oblivion would suffice. … The OverMan: For every man that sought eternal freedom, at his mercy are trillions of universes that each mirrors ours. This is the reward for each man to have become individual divine. Could you imagine a world governed by Nietzsche? In Nietzsche’s paradise both Zoroaster and Jesus are complimented by the Wicker Man, this was his sabotage of society. His people became primitive OverMen governed slowly by technology. Leonardo Da Vinci creates angel wings and gives his people flight as they escape limitation, law, and paradigm. Artaud’s galaxies are composed of mutes who communicate by body language and excreta, a constant motion resembling collective bacteria incarnate as the phoenix. It goes on to Hunter S. Thompson, Bruce Lee, Schopenhauer, GG Allin, Che Guevara, etc and etc. … I give birth. In my child I witness my naiveté. I see my weakness and strength. I see the seed of a shepherd. I see a deaf-mute who will be suicided with a fine pistol. I cradle my offspring and snap its neck, letting the body float into space. Am I the man who believes they are a phoenix that will plunge and with his picture in the paper to be an inspiration to another? I give up my former joys. Here I exist as someone who should have rightly died long ago, for I had nothing to create but for repulsive mirrors. I renounce suicide. I renounce the Tao. I renounce everything I had once put faith in. When one thing is roadblocked, man may use their fists, their voice, and their inherent weaponry to continue onwards to break through that boundary in ‘The Will to Power’. Then they die so suddenly and create nothing else.

Notes: Look towards the history of humankind.

The Extermination of Humanity Under Keynesian Economics "I have become death, destroyer of worlds," Oppenheimer I see comets fall, riding them are a bacteria known as refugee. A boy writes ‘fuk ur god’ on a computer monitor; within that very text, macrocosm, entire worlds feud and die, their blood runs down the computer screen, the boy licks up this blood, and how sweet it tastes. The boy walks off, half-smiling while staring at the breasts of twelve-year-old girls. Later at home he masturbates, a little fetus covered in boils falls out; he kills it and consumes the child. “Hello boy” “Hello Danny” “Hello Son” As spoken by elites. The boy is held down on an operating table. “Please help me.” As spoken by the last man. Down an open mouth, I see the real world. There are children playing atop a glass dome, inside the dome are future weapons and new innovations. A man proceeds to dig his way to China; he breaks into the dome and falls. A bound Asian man shot in the head point blank, rows of murdered civilians, some trampled by tanks, and they got their information by then. In captivity are middle eastern men being tortured by suited whites. Sen. Wellstone is laid to rest. In Haiti, the results of a puppet who rapes children: people living in cardboard houses with flooded latrines, the UN forces leaves a message by executing a man and leaving him rotting in the streets, forgoing the usual media. The Democide of the once saintly individual, there now is your Pinochet, here overcome are the murderous Spics. There is an image of a black man crucified onto a monolith. “He’s coming out of it now; notate the foam falling out of his nose. I know we’re only to record spoken word, but I feel it necessary, this may convey a kind of poisoning” “What a trip.” “Indeed.” Air force pilot Alex Harmen awakens from his Demerol-induced trip, he has been given a code name he will not remember; he has seen such horrible things.

“How do you feel John?” “Fucked.” “That’s good you feel something, better for that then the usual depression, eh? We can set you up there John. Ermm, uh, just, waitaminute, there we go, sorry about that I forgot hit the record button. You feel fucked right? Testing. But the depression, how is the depression?” “Neutralized for lack of a better term, I feel weakened, my testicals ache, and my feet are trembling a little. It’s like feeling drunk in a way.” ‘Good.’ They never suspect, nor will they ever. Our media and Devine Tesla. We shall make these birds sing, we shall let them see what we want, o’ mighty, o’ infallible rouge, that be our religion, what a nice and pretty thing. You kind birds that part my hair; you pursue our interests, you make us strong, O insipid and great mankind! Riding alongside Gary Powers, we do not have our cyanide capsules… he refused and I forgot. The plane is shot down so suddenly by a patriot missile. I see the Tesla coil as the crucifix. There is Tesla palming balls of lightening, at that moment I realize just who is the true prophet. There exist no beautiful cherubs, but only HAARP, Tungeska is the fall of man, every last man being tracked with radio chips – a list for who’s naughty and nice – what a pity for men that will never realize Saint Peter is a computer. Summary of the MK Ultra Project: was put into action when U-2 Pilot Gary Powers refused to take his cyanide capsule when captured. To prevent the leaking of any information, his plane was shot down on return from the Soviet Union. Though it were researched well into the late 40’s/early 50’s, it was after the Powers incident that the program when into effect for all airmen. Reasoning: It costs millions of dollars to train an airmen, versus thousands of dollars to train a grunt, they would sacrifice one hundred grunts to reclaim an airman. Execution: The subject would be placed in a drug-induced coma (once done with LSD now done with Demerol) and given a trigger word, when the subject has been captured, the trigger word is given to the subject in some manner and the subject commits suicide or assassination (see Sirhan Sirhan). Dr. Keynes, god bless you. What amazing spectacle, the brain of Keynes downloaded into an android. I see over a dozen people in lab coats covered in vomit, computers reaching orgasm through a mass of new information, paint-like fluid ebbing out of hard drives… they know now and see the rebirth of their messiah. Here to witness, the fall of every little man; cementing a warped ideal of the OverMan as recited by the great Nietzsche; an ideal that perfectly validates Darwin and De Sade, Natural Selection via Master & Slave.

Dr. Keynes gives his speeches by binary code, it takes 5-10 minutes to translate each senteance uttered. “My people, how far you’ve come. To advance upon an idea to mutate this wretched, deviant species into something without future, without a god, without anything but to give to us. And you have taken it even higher then I hoped, with worthless paper, and great and holy media. How splendid it is to have only the consumer. We need a more controlled population, for that I refer to the great and beloved Rwanda. With what we have asserted, the white protector to save the poor and dying niggers, by the simplest possible manner, upon these very hands (invokes the crowd of sychophants, spooks, and idealists) are befallen diamond and crude, how justly to reep material from a people who do not think. And so our bases were made, our men deployed and (begins speaking even more pretentiously) sheltered they that were provoked, they that were our fuel to the fire, they that ranks among the greatest of parasites that which partakes in a social cannibalism.” How much longer should I see it continue? Cameras which monitor every last gesture, and every conversation recorded with a multitude of triggers. I see people re-wired and dumbed down. A sick and meaningless people (Image of the American flag, the masses, cannibalism) Arise Dr Keynes; you will be the eternal Ugolino Della Gherardesca. You will be remembered as the man who gave us the television. You have won the battle without a Stalingrad, for you are Mengela and General Shiro Ishii. You are the Wiseman who says to us ‘May you live in interesting times.’

In The City Excavated buildings, rainfall of black ash & rivers of saliva. Trees upturned with roots soaking of blood and fused knives. Held under a red and blue sky with no wandering humans, no arranged ode to pain and joy, but only a sacred misery. There’s people lynched from atop rotting buildings with protruding skewers, their agony muted by cut vocal chords & blank faces. A people united under not cruelty, but Instrumentality beyond pain or love, but the flesh married to idealism & completed with the utmost in artistry. A nursery holding mutant children; one child’s fingers are broken backwards; the fingernails grow immense & dig into his torso & now paralyzed in a sitting position with his toes plugged into electrical sockets for eternity. Untold rows of dear minority hang in the sun with amputated noses, tubing runs from each nasal cavity up into a high structure where biological weapons are dumped into, & bodies stay in constant rot & convulsion. There is a stadium rebuilt by one crucified muslim who becomes a new kind of circuitry, his limbs become extension cables to power the one thousand electric chairs for seated cowards & every last & remade fuck machine. Among his attendees, holes are cut into the tongues of one dozen women, funnel-like jowls erupting from the earth, and ants are lead down their gullet & begin to nest. When a queen emerges, she will lay her eggs down into her victims’ open mouth, under the shadow of mohammed, under the shadow of dead jesus: the begotten people who do not realize what they are, walk past such spectacles while speaking to themselves in tongues who stare with the eyes of an insectseeing but a few millimeters ahead of them in this glory of the planet now minimized-. On billboards promising newfound glory, there lay the image of one male pubescent, with each limb amputated including the minute prick, the flesh filleted ‘round the chest, re-wired to become a polygraph device to listen in on each confession by godly men who have had their ears stabbed by crucifixes, stars of david piercing the eyes, and etc. In the streets, two dozen people laid on their backs, their feet pin pricked by intermittent fires, pointing up at the sky & doused by the concurrent rain looking out into nothing, these living anchors. One lesser building is crowned by young girls held and raped by gargoyle automatons, fucked by a constant mechanic motion & emptied with sperm at every hour, and pausing just before any child could ever reach orgasm. Each child has an opened stomach by cesarean where a new child is plucked, the fetal legs ground up and fed to the mothers; the remains are left in gutters that house rare flowers, broken glass & vomit –this is the manure for a rare plant that arises with a human hand clutched in an Anarchist fist-. In the glory of the sun, there beams a gigantic mouth with a jaw like a guillotine & a tongue like a needle, people are kissed by that tongue & bitten into twos & threes, and left to writhe and live by that wretched kiss. Dogs with sewn eyelids live inside each hollowed & sustained bodies. New-Age solar panels with opposing men & women are speared upside down in a criss-cross fashion, they are let live by a series of tubing

leading from the cunt, prick, & ass to each mouth, one couple are impaled by a spike through each head in a kiss, being held together in sun light, giving vital energy to this very paradigm. In school yards I see giant men at least seven feet high, are run around with razor wire like a may poll by wounded children while the wire is wire is rooted in the palms & may easily give if any slack is applied. On the beach a man is crucified upon a dying whale, spray paint marks a cross outline, black natives appear & sing, guided by a road of dead animals opened by bullet holes, such beautiful chants from atop a mound of dirt –an island within the city- the natives kiss this man on the cheeks, the whale explodes from expanding gasses. Laughing; dying refuges lay out on hospital beds, feeding rows of tears to mosquitoes sat upon unblinking eyes; a white nurse looks after them, a white man is born from a shotgun wound (pellet round), pulling himself up & emerging now as a thing beyond little wars & little men, the white man & woman proceed to fuck. There is a thing levitating upward,

The Tower From the extremes of Hedonism, O’ mighty Libertine and significant herd In the middle of the city, one tower pulls up from it immeasurable in scope and all too palpable to the richest of men. It seems to root the city as it touches the sky, like the handle for a dradle, an anchor, a tool, a thing with life. Too difficult to place it into the limited confines of language, you can only see and know what it is from the outset, seeing something so powerful it brings enlightenment. No entry is apparent, this is not a thing made for humanity, but just a painting made manifest. Each floor follows a different variation on total freedom: Populated by nude women, and sustained entirely by diluted urea. These most exquisite of women neither anorexic nor obese, those extremes lay only to consumers. Some with a gap in the teeth, or slightly crooked, others with minor baby fat, others still with shaved cunt and a light stubble, every race is welcomed without a creed, their numbers in the tens of thousands, haven’t I said that the herds have been separated and retained? What of birth? There is no need to create a vice when one achieves totality. Another floor, a mirror of the previous, but only with men; and one other going a step farther with hermaphrodites. On one floor all three converge, it resembles the birth of the universe. A domain of creators; philosophers, scientists, inventors, etc: Many are re-incarnations of previous great men, and some request to be placed back into their original and mighty state once they acknowledge the outside world. Some do nothing and enjoy the view,

saying that everything that can be said has all ready passed, and while others questioned their meaning on a planet where an ideal has been reached and now attained. God is here, a monochrome deformity useless and preserved in a vat of ecstasy. A plaque above him reads ‘Paradise is a shifting element that must always grow and evolve, if satisfaction is ever reached thereon it mutates into purgatory. Here lies your idea of heaven.’ A school environment, nude children are encouraged to watch Madolescenza. Free love and little angst, with those vital years recycled and re-invited, pick your parents; for once you may actually choose a destiny. Dead civilians from each war, united here in a new state. Theirs to grow and nourish, strangely Masochistic in its appearance, pain is too familiar to them. There is a family portrait in bondage. Ocean of cum, nudist camp set on the beach with an orange light that would tan. People frolic and enjoy, but not at all sexual as they remain unaware and naïve of such things. Children swim in the ocean, by the side are women masturbating in a frenzy, emptying their selves to give these children water. A floor of fetishes from necrophilia to crush, with imagery too obvious to recall. The castle of the Four Libertines from De Sade’s The 120 Days of Sodom are granted the gift of modernity. Only here the children are replaced by realistic Japanese androids. The Holocaust: The camps are now bordellos; it resembles an Italian Nazi-sploitation picture where Jews, Poles, Christians, Homosexuals, and Deformities converge and writhe with soldiers. Not offensive at all once you subvert a thing sexually, no one may resist pleasure and the most abundant of escapism. An electronic floor; children are seated in a Chucky Cheese-like environment with wires run to their brains. They play the arcade games; each victory brings a flood of endorphins. The games, you might be wondering, are wired to pedophiles trapped in a hidden room. Each victory brings a prolonged electric shock with a minimal amount of endorphins injected. On the example set previously, with androids being a catharsis: There exist an infinite amount of floors dedicated to each little group and their hatred. From pigs beating to death minorities, Black Panthers executing corrupt white, muslim extremists stoning women to death and committing suicide – though they let live, a secret room houses 72 androids who remain virginal due to blood pumps and an automatically regenerating hymen-. This domain of metaphysicians granted a second set of arms, an extra finger, dual genitals, and a third eye, etc. They speak of their thoughts and given little applause, repeating how they will begin to do something in creating a new and better planet, amounting to only the usual masturbation.

Topping off into the crown this floor of deformities without language, but only a screaming cacophony, and with a wallpaper of mutilated holy figures: There stood mohammed tied to a crescent with a star anchoring the mouth, there sat jesus in an electric chair, the usual mockery as you could imagine for buddha and vishnu accompanied by a dance of these people. One inhabitant without eyes, four arms without fingers, and pointing needle-appendages up at the roof where it meets a giant hand plain and forgiving as they touch and sing. The roof opens, light beams, it looks like Bosch’s painting of insect angels flying into heaven. Populating yet another floor, one without anything, but these deformities who lay and weep, and arises a cloudy-ness of a stillborn people that anchors this planet. It stays like this for eternity.

apocalypse The Chameleon has died and the spider has escaped from its nest Travelers enter a ravaged village smelling of blood. Huts broken open, dogs torn to pieces and impaled with sticks. Screaming faces forever set on beaten bodies. Men and women crucified upright and upside down, torrents of blood falling down the hillside. People half-buried, an old man dragged across the fields by his intestinal tract; hands and feet cut off and hung from tree branches, now limbless people struggle to crawl up the hillside, away from the forest, begging, whimpering, covered in lively essence. There’s a boy crucified through his palms, castrated, and still drawing breath. A forest of hanged and gutted animals. Every woman lay destroyed, crucified upon those trees, pierced and impaled by every phallic limb. Mother s torn open a daughter s cunt impaled and stretched wide, funnel-like. And I was the ruler and the Devil: Spreading from me this biological infierno, flesh-like walls lined with entrails, demons conjoined to screaming children fused to the skull, back, and genitals with weeping faces sprout, these demons stabbing screaming people laid out on all fours with finger nail-shaped blades. People falling, screaming, laid on needle mountains, constant and everlasting screams, and a hot steam arising from a river of blood and ejaculate. I was there, eating these broken bodies . May you come to the attention of those in authority. . Seeing Human heads falling, cut off by massive swords protruding from the palms. Phallic and spear-like blades arising from arms held high above a massive human form clouded by shadow, each arm parallel to the other, and each blade toped by human heads, one head is white and the other is black, the Ying and Yang of mutual decapitation. Mountains of human heads stretching for miles upward, young lovers begin to fuck on these mountains, blood ebbing from torn hymens. It is all here within this coliseum, and there was an obese Caesar presiding over this accursed place, thumbs down. Sparks fall from the sky and there is a loud electronic hum of machinery. Black wires decorate the walls and floors; it is difficult to find your footing. People in the stadium stare down at you; Lightening bolts fall and strike me, my limbs are numb and scalp is set afire, struck again and again by lightening falling from heaven. Other people tortured with electrodes attached to genitals and nipples, and another crowd joined together by holding hands lit up like a live circuit as electricity courses through them. Man attached to flying kite and once he is struck by lightening he plummets; blood, shit, and random viscera covers the wires, a floor drowning in a small pond of blood, low-level electricity slowly killing those who drown, death by heart attacks, charred flesh, aneurisms, ruptured veins and destroyed eyes, ulcers exploding and exiting bowels. I hear a great electronic hum in tune with my heartbeat, a subtle pounding of what may be generators or the trampling of dying slaves, I hear it so often and so familiar, even when I fall asleep it continues, this electronic beat. Children take bullet hits for the Elites who watch onward in the stadium, one of which is dressed as Caesar: the king of Earth. There is an orange/reddish light which permeates throughout this place, an underground cavern, a ground of jagged stones and bits of dirt, naked human feet, a ceiling of stone spikes almost touching the ground. Man with outstretched hands walks over the thriving

bodies as if he is in a drugged trance, and with blank and lifeless eyes. A blond woman presides over this, not a queen but an heir apparent to butchery and grace. Man masturbates a woman laid out on floor; his hands are then cut off, large clumps of hair pulled out of now bloodied scalp by a clawed hand reeking of chlorine. A threesome with a brown-haired woman fucked with two pricks in her asshole, a knife forced into her mouth, with her nipples and pubic hair draped in falling cum and blood, held in the splendor of the stars. Beautiful Italian music with a woman singing elegantly plays on, labia s bitten away by plaque stained teeth, a man tied to the ground on all fours, his asshole fisted, he is decapitated, and he gives birth to a child through his opened neck. The child is the idea, the blond woman holds the child and say’s ‘oh king of god, open your gates’ and the child levitates off into the sun and perishes: Plants grow, buildings fall, no more vices to find once blighted by supreme pleasure that no one may resist, and therein the world is reborn. ... Blue The most morose of colors, there is something about it that conjures the feeling of depression, and much more simplistic, easily grasped things such as the abyss of water, memories and flight. There is hope in Blue; the world may be destroyed as would Pariahdom and there would arise and forever be of permanence Individuality. Limitation is a forgotten memory. The world is opened and we have become the new bird no longer chained. People begin to swim in the air, and they are set free. Ascension, free from paradigm, and there allows new humanity. When I die, no one will remember me. My body will nourish this planet; I will be the nourishment for all people. I will be this great and kind thing once I am gone, no more will there be this void to be filled. My escape shall be Manifest Destiny, and then to let it all go and lay in peace. I witness the limits of violence and pleasure, and I see how limited they are. There is only so much you can take away and rebuild, when you see that a corpse is just a corpse without a freedom or final descent. But a nothing. I am at peace with that.

Final sophistry of a Pseudo-Maudit: Infierno: There is an orange light interwoven with needle mountains, mud pits filled with black pikes, flames, howling, and ongoing groans of pain. On one scaffolding to my right there is an Asiatic adult male laughing while he is whipping a young girl with what looks like intestines, a violent strike to her lower stomach splits her open like a cheap piñata, I am awash with her viscera. I see a man impaled by a Catholic drill and held over a group of slithering pigs, his eyes are furious and drip ink. Large human erupts from the dirtlayered earth sprinting miles upwards with an extended right arm and a clenched right fist; the body explodes with a rain of blood and refuse. Constant sounds of fucking high on the mountains, motherly woman overjoyed by one dozen pricks, her skin melts away as a flood of sperm falls. Girl squatting and masturbating with a white horn filled with termites that eat out her womb and spill out of her body, she presses a button on the horn and it ejects itself out through her body and emerges through her back. Yellow birds fly to the crucified that hang below and pluck out their eyes. Up high between two mountains, there is a man trapped in a webbing of medical gauze, he is pinched and prodded by a scorpion created by fused humans hanging just below him, its phallic tail bores through him, a poisioned torso, with blood and venom overflowing. Ancient woman with amputated limbs laid out on her side, her stomach lined with nipples, infants suckle from her. Preserved fetuses attched to umbilical chords hang off the ground, tortured by lit candles planted below. A sow’s breasts are bitten way by infantile boys. A woman sweats, her cunt pulled open and filled with hot lead. Man is pulled inside out, still alive as ancient men eat him. Too many more that passes by and are too easily forgotten. I see the exit, appropriately a grail doorway and what I thought was the pubic hair were instead pikes which bore through a multitude of screaming people of all genders and all ages, a man crucified to the clitoris. Paradiso: It is much more tropical, jungle-like then a forest. There is a blue sky mixed with clouds and stars and even bits of most cherished night, there is a constant sunset here, a grassy floor rich with green. Every women lay entirely nude and there lies no shame nor morality, and no punishment given to a free body. Many orgies under the trees before not a one who is holier-then-though but your fellow Wretch, and foliage-covered mountains echoing screams of glory. Children even involved with this mass and consensual pleasure, involved with their equals or yet even older, not following the law of Give and Take but only Need. A mad sense of pleasure without fear of being stricken by plague or that of parasite. Elephants howl and bathe women in water from a lake of ejaculate. A baby hippopotamus steals the clothes off the backs of young virgins; they give chase to that infant animal with a great deal of joy. There exists no oppression; there is no opponent that shall rob man of their want and desire; everyone has achieved what is manifest, hence their point of existence made realized through physical interconnectedness.

PaRaDISE I love you please please I don’t want to be alone anymore Someone love me, someone need me, I need you to leave I’m all alone in the world I have died and gone to hell That were my innocent and weak self You have awoken me, I the sleeping demon I would gladly bite off these feathered wings and bend these horns I just don’t want to die alone You will be with me, for without I would gladly die then to be without a goddess I will be with you darling, you are my Lover You will be my awakening from this limited planet I will spare you agony upon agony You will not feel pain, nor birth, nor wraith For I would give to great attrition Moreso then any woman on the planet, as I have no mother My mother the queen of lies and pity All men should destroy their mothers All women should defeat their fathers For we are Apollo & Dionysus This tao of mighty things Thy will that man becomes whole again The void filled with not flesh nor ink But unity among a fellow Let us glide and dance Let there be a new ego One evolved and loving Not to die like a philosopher Not to live like the prisoner But a void filled With all manner of what begets Instrumentality For you, my Love

birth Rioting Asiatic people rampage through villages, they are driven by some religious/political right that brings back an ancient practice of their culture. As they decapitate begging men on their knees that they do not see as their fellow nor as opponent but only as a trophy, three heads placed on a roadblock and the people cheer as the camera records it. It was done mainly to gain attention for the people‘s cause or the media wouldn‘t give a damn and there would be no world coverage. There is a photo of a man in military fatigues seated by his trophy, the putrefying head of a young man. Here we have a prime example, where violence is committed not so much to gain attention for a cause, but to be noticed by a third person. Not so much as a cry for help, but a method to prove one’s identity. We may have an existence through one and the other; two humans become a mirror of the other no matter the relation of blood. By committing this act, they have drawn attention, people know of them, no longer as the powerless specter, they have an existence in the third person, their cause is no longer an esoteric spectacle for their people, it is their identity to all people on the outside; they have murdered in order to establish their existence. ... I tear away my flesh, and there I see my true self. We forget that we are alike underneath this nervous system of physics, the flesh is only a microbiotic society of interactions, and the society that houses the one is not the identity to the self, it is only a delicate ecosystem that may crush the one. Just as spirit/mentality is individual, when the flesh was born it was plugged into to this society, it is joined to a fragile thing and the cure is when that single cell is extracted from the diseased creature and it evolves to a higher being that wipes out that disease. ... To amputate your Index and Ring fingers is to be free of marriage and of making accusations. ... What are fascists but sexual cripples? ... These new creatures, adaptations of humanity One is a black thing, near shapeless with few defined features. With a mouth cavernous and wide like the spread cunt, five fingers often held together as three sharp and scissorlike fingers. The body overall is mutilated and deformed, often walking on its haunches and leaping onto the weak to eviscerate them with an intense speed. With needle-like teeth and it shall vomit napalm and without asshole or genitalia. This is the Ego, and the Ego does not shit.

It brutalizes a single man who is defiant to it, slamming his head against the wall effortlessly, cutting off the face whilst amputating struggling limbs. It culminates when this man is disemboweled at an instant and napalm falls onto the exposed entrails. The Ego feasts on that castrated organ with a subtle joy. The second creature: The ‘supposed’ Goodness, I say ‘supposed’ because a sense of good is not born from within the human, it is an implanted idea. It is a thing that is mimicked so long as it may serve the one; Goodness is only a modified clone of the Ego. A figure clothed in a deep blue gown with awaiting arms in faux-human form, as if to embrace you and bring out a goodness; a goodness that is ultimately an inhuman thing wherein a cancer grows from that tainted heart now blackened and ugly, pumping that diseased blood, topped by disintegrated marrow, and a toothless mouth. It grabs handfuls of pubic hair and shit glued together by saliva and forms wings out of these ugly things attached to its spine, masking the ugly as pure and clean. It attempts to live onward, deluding it self with visions of grandeur. ... That which separates man from lower animal: For the benefit of the insipid, cut off your thumbs. Then we would become equals.

D e p r a v i t y (Justification) D e c i m a t i o n = C r e a t i o n. This is an Anti-Christ Complex; the death of everything could only beget the creation of a new and better thing, a Fascist approach. One may draw parrallells between the Inquisition and the democide by the Khmer Rouge. E x i s t e n c e a n d t h e n a t u r e o f V i o l e n c e. Philosophy clefts at one point, that the animal exists for it self or it exists for the nourishment of the other-just as humans are social animals. That is a flawed argument, man chooses to exist as a social creature (Fusion) and that gives way to Pariah. One cannot exist for the other (society) and maintain wholly, physically and mentally, a new filter is created as an intrinsic piece dissolves to achieve life in a Society, and that being our individuality. The Pariah gives up only the albatross to Society, and grows a further enhancement, and that is to evolve. When I exist for my self, therefore my inner ecosystem implodes and takes away, nothing. Nothing collected, no genetic tree of life, nothing added and nothing gained, a human worth -0. Art and Action are the one loophole to this truth, when one engrains their existence upon another… they in fact violate the nature of the Pariah. When I exist for the other, I have become a molecular creature bound to the other. You may find metaphors in paradigm and evolution, the splendors of life that they may affirm. Both values imply Eugenics –either the one who exists for himself evolves then dies, or we are fused and evolve as the mass- and have then been executed by Democide and the Serial Killer. How often Social Darwinism clashes with Peace & Love. V i o l e n c e a s i n t r i n s i c t o E x i s t e n c e: Those within Society go towards violence to escape this universe. The Pariah retorts to violence as a counter action or overt anti-influence to create a new paradise that suits their comforts. According to Kierkegaard, the Single Individual is the one who has separated from a society of individuals (individuals as if cells that work in conjunction of one being). That is, complete separation, becoming an alien thing to that former society; like birth of a deformity. How does one separate from society? Separation from the masses is an impossibility when taken into accord the unionification of mankind… there is that scientific suggestion that we each interact with each other via mass energy, negative input creating negative output, and etc. It seems that growth is the ideal he went for, but it has been misapplied. Chaso Applied to the Masses: The Negation of state, the Negation of the politic, the Negation of the dictator and all democracies, the Negation of money, the Negation of religion, the Negation of morality. Therein is the man that seeks his fame and destiny, he is that Single Individual and OverMan with another kind of irredeemable growth so easily available to people with a horribly precise logic. Like Consumerism; the simplest possible method to fill the void.

Tao of Joy & Pain (Chaos depicted in terms of the Madman witnessing the fall of society) One, one vast land of a natural yellow-ish pallet overgrowing with unimportant minutia (grand buildings, televisions as large as oceans, scrawling text/propaganda) non-human models, in-human models, dead animals and living cannibals, brief vestiges of former slaves, new generations of fused races, and half-dead Methuselah’s connected to biological mechanized hard external memory. Birth of new man; an unending violence that is both catalyst and result, a thing which creates itself; a man who disembowels himself and gives birth to the embodiment of his ego in a child’s body draped with his innards = rebirth. Therein man invents his destiny and reaches it. Foam streams through the sewers from mouth and wetted cunt, from the armpits the people give birth to new beings no longer blank but entire ideologies created in the flesh, millions with knives, guns, and untold weaponry, and to drown in flooded latrines. No heat or wind, no weather of any kind, constant falling of cum -tears of freed humans- the sewers stuffed to the brim with bodies, and shit arises among the converging masses. Omnipresent laughter and screaming, screams of joy and pain, man in black guns down gyrating fuckers in Tiananmen Square and he begins singing Strange Fruit shooting them thrice out of a luminescent joy. Craniums broken open on concrete sidewalks, people kiss the ground housing their buried lovers, a man takes a screwdriver upon his finger nails, tearing them out one after another and feeding them to a child, and the man then writes a poem in ode to Will Inman’s The Flowers of God . Pricks grow from a man’s shoulders, rows of them as with several rows of teeth, he lacerated his tongue and cannot speak, he keeps biting his pricks, and he then amputates them with his teeth thereupon bleeding to death. Average woman clubs a man until he is in a coma; she amputates his hands and fucks his stumps, and riding those black arms endlessly. Wounded humans run onto the highways and suicide themselves while pilgrims use this collection of bodies as a massive raft to a new world. All races/generations of people fuck one and other not at the final dawn of apocalypse, not to fuck out of futility but only to live freely, all people fuck openly, splendidly, in that are expelled what makes humanity, creation in not a blank, creation of the joy of life. ….

I see the nature of Chaos. Is it a throw back to grand primitism, or an explosion of mind and body? Only bullshitters seem to know the exact answer for that. I no longer see anything in Chaos, there is no great thing to it, only a mass of imagery-our purest language- however great and divine it is, it is only built upon a simple logic, and Nietzsche said that the OverMan should not follow only logic. If Chaos can then be evauluated as an act of an Individiual, then no longer can violence be claimed by an individual if it is available to the masses. Therefore; the individidual would be a wholly unique creature that applies to no real set of standards, but a shifting set of principals that works like Evolution (an inescapable idea blighted by herd mentality and a limited manifest destiny) that suits that same man. With that, we discover that Chaos may not be violent, but only another life form like water, a thing that can become anything. May you find what you are looking for.

The Madman and his lover What I see now remain as fragments But pieces of a landscape Still morphing and being molded By what is the same old same old Even for the approaching hurricane Nothing new to find in this final image So obvious and unexplainable When you try to find your self and escape But predictable paradigm The usual ‘cause’ of all errors on this planet The experiment has failed Start over How comforting it is to a people Never once to find absolution Never to gain what is cherished and so sacred The death of God and all masters Let us become the new masters So we may chisel away the teeth Of little slaves and little men The final solution But turmoil and grace What little depth and pity For the blood of billions Like a newfound virus –cured by the bullet and furyWhat is Manifest and what is insipid Oh worldly genius and dictator Every last who will perish on this planet Now manure for fresh creatures A magnificent age The Dawn of nothing but individuals To battle time it self Without finish nor last glory What we see now Is endless possibility Infinite Divine and Cruel

[theaurorfileshq]

V E S P E R   B R A N W E N  /  A U R O R   C O R P O R A L

AGE:  Thirty

BADGE NUMBER: U73E82

BLOODSTATUS: Pureblood

GENDER/PRONOUNS: Genderfluid, They/Them

IDENTIFYING FEATURES: White Serpent Tattoo on Their Upper Arm, Designer Leather Jackets, Tight Jeans

STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES:

(+): Metamorphmagus, Offensive Magic, People Skills

(-):  Memory Problems, Defensive Magic, Impatient and Quick to Make Reckless Decisions

BACKGROUND:

(tw: abuse, mind control/manipulation )

(i.) –– waking up.

There’s confusion, when they wake up at the hospital. A strange white room. Strange white sheets. A head that feels like cotton. A hospital bracelet around their wrist that says Jane Doe, which is –– which doesn’t sit easy in their chest. They don’t know what else should be written there, they don’t know a lot of things that they probably should.

They open their eyes, and they look around in confusion, and there’s a man sitting asleep in the chair beside their bed. He looks tired and gentle, looks dear and worried, and they have absolutely no idea who he is. In his sleep he looks peaceful, and they feel unsettled and relaxed all at once. There are warring instincts in their confused mind that warn them against him, in the same moment they feel cared for.

The nurses are kind, the doctors are kinder. It’s a very nice hospital, and they have magic at their very fingertips. When they ask who the man is, they’re told that his name is Rafael, and he’s the one who brought them here. He’s a government official. Very important. Very well respected. Very powerful. sRafael de la Cruz comes to see them every day, and so the story unfolds.

They are a lost and damaged bird, and he found them on the streets. Wandering, cold, confused. Empty headed and hurt. They must have been attacked, someone must have hurt them, and someone must have obliviated them afterwards. The damage was vast, and that’s why they don’t remember who they are, where they are. The medi-wix’s that work on their case are hopeful that with time, it will come back.

(ii.) –– rebirth.

Not much comes back at all. A name. Vesper. They pick the surname on their own, something that sounds cool, something that they see in one of the magazines that sits beside their bed. Bright, pastel things that Rafael bought for them to read. Vesper Branwen feels like an identity, and Rafael feels like a friend.

They aren’t sure why he wastes his time on them. Why he comes to see them every day, why he’s paying for the best of care. He tells them that he’s fond of them, that he could have never abandoned someone who needed help. He has a glint in his eyes, and a smile on his face, and he brushes their hair away from their face. The warring instincts inside them have leveled out, and more than anything they’re glad that someone cares about them.

Things blossom fast, with them and Rafael. It starts when a nurse tells them that they’re ‘just the cutest couple,’ and shifts into lightspeed when Vesper gets released from the hospital. They need somewhere to stay, and Rafael rents them a room in a hotel that feels far too nice for them. They have nothing, so they accept it, so they let Rafael buy them pretty dresses and nice food, a place to lay their head. They have no one, so they’re breathlessly glad when Rafael presses a gentle kiss against their lips.

Their entire life is in his hands, but his hands seem strong and safe, and Vesper trusts him. It’s like a fairytale, so people say. Vesper must feel like the luckiest person on earth. And they do.

Within two months, Vesper moves in with him. Within six, they’re engaged. They feel perfectly safe and perfectly kept, neatly tidied away. They don’t have to worry about who they were, Rafael tells them, because they’re making him the happiest man in the world. So suddenly, all Vesper cares about is making him happy.

Rafael’s family is terrifying, and wedding planning is a blur. Vesper lets their soon-to-be mother in law do most of the planning. Lets her pick the flowers. Lets her pick the dress. Lets her tell Vesper how to act, what’s expected of Rafael’s wife. It’s almost nice to have the rules neatly laid out for them. They learn how to smile just right. They learn what to say and how exactly they’re supposed to look. Raf likes their hair blonde, so they keep it that way. Raf likes them soft around the edges. Raf likes them pretty. They could be different if they wanted, they can look however they dream, but they stay the way that Raf likes them –– at least while people are looking.

Sometimes they look like someone else. Sharper edges. Darker hair. Masculine, still pretty, they hope. Rafael doesn’t like that as much, so they save it for their private hours, hoard it carefully away. They stand and look in the mirror, at this familiar yet alien face, and feel an ache. They stand and try on the pretty dresses and pretty underwear, and wonder if they wouldn’t like to wear other things sometimes.

But what they want isn’t important, and they should be happy with what they get. That’s what Rafael snapped at them, the one time they had asked. They should be grateful for what he spent his money on, just for them, when he asked for so little in return.

(iii.) –– becoming.

It’s Julián –– brother in law, friend, something dear and unexpected –– that gives them the idea to become an Auror. While their past remained cloudy, their knowledge of magic came back like muscle memory. They were proficient, and they had skills, and they were bored out of their mind. Alone for hours in that big house, waiting for Rafael to come home. The quiet suffocates them, leaves them dazed and lonely and at odds with the world. It makes them feel like a ghost, and they wonder if that isn’t what they are. A lost thing. A shadow. A pretender.

They’re choking with a feeling of wrongness, the sensation of something being not quite right. Sometimes they look at Rafael and they feel scared, sometimes they wake up and feel like they’re trapped. They fill out the application for auror training in a fit of desperation, and then forget about it for three days. They do that, sometimes. Go to sleep and then forget, time slipping away from them, moments lost to whatever is wrong with their brain. Sometimes, they think they’re losing their mind. At their most paranoid, they think that someone is stealing it from them. Rafael tells the family that Vesper is delicate, something to be treated with kid gloves. Prone to forgetful episodes, prone to flights of fancy, prone to sullen moods and depressive periods. And people say how kind he is, to put up with them. People look at Vesper like they’re very lucky, like they’re a burden on a kind man, and they feel it cut down to the soul. They have a simple, pretty life, and they should be grateful.

They find the application tucked away in their drawer, and remember filling it out only when they’ve reread it, only when they’ve traced their signature with a fingertip. They submit it, and don’t tell Rafael until they’ve been accepted. It feels like a leap of faith, like they’re a fledgling bird jumping from the nest, unsure if their wings are strong enough to carry them.

They tell Julián, before they tell anyone else. Dearest brother in law, with the look in his eyes like he genuinely believes in them. It’s strange. They don’t think Julián looks at many other people in the family that way. But then again, Vesper is kinder to him than most people. They have a long history now of sharing smiles, snarky comments, finding each other at parties. He’s the one who see’s their other face, who lets them be that person for a few hours every now and then. Julián doesn’t prefer the pretty armor. They feel proud when they tell him they’ve been accepted, that they’re going to the Academy. Vesper needs him to tell them it’s a good idea again, that this is something they’re allowed to do, allowed to have.

Rafael is explosively angry, for a while. A feeling of betrayal, a feeling of anger, of being lied to. He’s always liked Vesper small, after all. Always liked them to be within arms reach, to be waiting when he came through the door. He liked it when they shaped themself for him, so they fit perfectly into his hands. Rafael expects Vesper to back out, they know. Expects them to turn down the Academy at his command. And he’s angry when they don’t. Explosively angry, violently angry, smashed glasses and harsh hands. They don’t know what strange bravery fosters itself in their heart, but they remember Julián’s supportive eyes and they don’t give it up. He comes around in the end, of course he does. He loves them, after all. And they still feel bad for hurting him. I just worry about you, he says, brushing their hair away from their face. What if you get hurt? And it’s an argument, it’s a fight, but they find their compromise and they make it work.

They wear a different face at the Academy, at work. Shift back and forth with so much frequency that it becomes second nature to them. Their perfect blonde persona didn’t feel like the truest self – or not the only true version of themselves. They cultivate dark hair and a sharp smile, clothes that will stand up to the ware and tear of training. They thrive at the academy, and they thrive after, in a certain sense.

Things get better outside the house, they aren’t as bored anymore, their confidence grows and their personality blooms. Things get worse at home, sometimes. Conflict comes and goes in waves. Raf is more critical than ever, and Vesper can never do anything right. There are stony silences and harsher moods, and he wraps rough hands around their wrists now, makes them feel smaller than they ever have before. He leaves bruises against their skin, and they feel frantic with it all –– because Rafael loving them is the most important thing, because they’re nothing without him, because he’s the center of the universe and he likes it that way. So they try harder, they fight more for the balance. They don’t talk about work and they make sure they’re good, when they’re home, exactly who he wants them to be.

They start at Pacific Squad early. A metamorphmagus with their innate and mindless skill is an asset. They’re good at magic and they can think quickly on their feet. People think they’ll go far. They hope so. As hard as it is to navigate around Rafael’s feelings, they feel for the first time like their life is their own, like they own some part of it. They get their own money, and buy clothes that he’d hate to see them in –– to be kept an open secret, changed out of before Rafael will talk to them for the evening, before he’ll really look at them.

They become a true shapeshifter, a double of themself. There’s Vesper Branwen, auror. And there’s Vesper Branwen, trophy wife.

(iv.) –– fractures.

Everything changes, and nothing does. Vesper goes to work and thrives. Rafael disapproves and Vesper makes up for it with demure, submissive looks, with oral sex and anything else that he wants. He hurts them in some small ways, every now and then, but that’s okay. It’s what they deserve. They still wake up sometimes, from nightmares that seem cyclical and scheduled. Their depressive and unhinged episodes bring nightmares, bring fear and paranoia and they wake up in cold sweats and feel so scared of Rafael that they can’t breathe.

And then things get foggy, for a day or two. Sometimes, they wake up and feel like they’ve forgotten everything they knew, everything they were supposed to do. Rafael brushes their hair and changes them, and sends them off to work. They forget a name here, have to re-read a file for the case they’ve been working on for weeks. It comes back, slowly but surely. People are used to Vesper being weak, being foggy and ditzy in the head every now and then. So their heart doesn’t flail in panic when they look at a dear friend and their brain halts, when they have to smile and say ‘hey, you’, until the name comes back to them hours later. They never forget anything that gets them in trouble, and so it doesn’t really matter.

They work and they climb ranks and they still feel like a ghost, sometimes. They’re notoriously reckless in the field, and it holds them back. Vesper will do anything to solve a case, anything to save a life, including die. It leads to frustration, in the squad. This startling concept that Vesper has some kind of death wish –– and maybe they do, for a minute there. Because what do they really have to live for? It all changes, anyway, they learn to live for something.

The pregnancy is unexpected. Vesper doesn’t remember if they were trying or not, doesn’t remember exactly when it happened. They aren’t sure if they wanted a baby, so it must have been an accident. A happy accident, they suppose. Rafael is pleased. Happy with them, for once. They’ve done something right. They’ll give him a baby and be a mother, raise a perfect child that will grow up to be just like him. Vesper doesn’t know if they’re happy about it, themself, but then that makes them feel sick with guilt.

They decide that they have to be happy, there isn’t any other choice. Rafael tells them to do less work in the field, when they find out. So they do paperwork at their desk, for the most part. And the squad gets used to Vesper with soft features and blonde hair, a younger face. Because it would feel wrong, somehow, to look like someone Rafael hated while they were pregnant. It feels wrong regardless, but that’s a sensation that they can try to cover up.

It’s a distressing pregnancy, near the end. They’re sentenced to bed rest at the hospital, high blood pressure and risks they don’t really understand. Rafael could stay the night with them sometimes, but he doesn’t. He goes home. The wrongness of their life seems heightened in those weeks, in that room. When the baby comes, it feels like Vesper is having some kind of mental breakdown. They want their mother, someone they don’t even remember. They feel wrong and out of place, and they tell Julián because strangely they trust him. They whisper that they’re not supposed to be here, that they’re scared. In some fit of delirium, they make him promise to look after the baby, when something bad happens to them.

They feel better in a day or two. After a long nights sleep, they wake and their head feels foggy again, a feeling that lingers for a day or two. But they aren’t upset anymore, and it doesn’t feel wrong. Their world is narrowed down to a pinpoint, to a baby that someone places in their arms. Pandora Branwen de la Cruz. She’s such a tiny baby, the smallest thing on earth. Vesper loves her dearly, feels a hook in their heart that they’ll never be able to pull out again.

Vesper wants so badly to be a good mother, but in reality it’s hard. They’ve always been a delicate soul, after all, as Rafael said. In need of gentle handling. Prone to sullen silences and depressive moods, forgetful spells. Their moments alone with Pandora are rare, and Rafael hires a nanny when they get home from the hospital with her. They spend a long maternity leave sharing space with a woman far too stern, in their mind, sharing the baby they want to hoard selfishly for themself. It’s just one of those things that they learn to accept, that they have to. They don’t have any other options, don’t have any other choices.

In a way, going back to work is a relief. A chance to step into skin they haven’t had the privilege of in months, a chance to spend real time with people who love them in different and interesting ways. They’re more careful now, than they were before, death wish faded away fast. Less reckless, still hoping to be good for something, still hoping to be a person in charge of their own existence, in some small way.

[nathancone]

A Second Decade of Movies

Ten years ago on Facebook, I compiled a list of every movie I watched, in order, from the first decade of the network’s existence. Now, here’s part two, covering the years 2010-2019. There are 754 titles below, though some are repeat viewings. The movie I watched the most? Harold Lloyd in “The Freshman.” My favorite movie from the last decade? “The Tree of Life.”

But I began the 2010s with James Cameron’s mega-hit “Avatar.” I’ll go on record saying the movie is still enjoyable ten years later, as I watched it again in 2019 with my kids to prep for visiting the World of Pandora at Disney’s Animal Kingdom. But--I also agree with those who say there’s little remembered from the film in the culture today. Can you name the stars? Recount the plot in detail? Mostly what we remember from the film is the spectacle of it all, game-changing when it was released in 2009.

At any rate, enjoy the list below! If a title is hotlinked, it will take you to an essay, interview, or related coverage on the film by yours truly.    

1.       Avatar 2.       I Walked With A Zombie 3.       The Paradine Case 4.       Whip It 5.       The Body Snatcher 6.       Coraline 7.       Everybody’s Fine 8.       The Blind Side 9.       The Hurt Locker                 10.   Citizen Architect 11.   Fantastic Mr. Fox 12.   Dance With the One 13.   The Happy Poet                 14.   When I Rise 15.   Mr. Nice 16.   Lemmy 17.   Haynesville 18.   Rashomon 19.   Cabin in the Sky                 20.   Toy Story 2 21.   Being There 22.   Modern Times 23.   Iron Monkey 24.   Kiki’s Delivery Service 25.   Alice In Wonderland 26.   WALL·E 27.   Goldfinger 28.   A Fistful of Dollars 29.   The Red Shoes 30.   M. Hulot’s Holiday 31.   When In Rome 32.   Toy Story 3 33.   The Godfather 34.   White Heat 35.   The Girl on the Train 36.   Mary Poppins 37.   Kapò 38.   Dr. Strangelove 39.   White Dog 40.   Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home 41.   Scoop 42.   Katyn 43.   Metropolis 44.   Days of Heaven 45.   Shane 46.   Ramona and Beezus 47.   Duck Soup 48.   Pillow Talk 49.   Monte Carlo 50.   Persona 51.   The Powderkids               52.   Machete 53.   THX 1138 54.   Ran 55.   Fantasia 2000 56.   Contempt 57.   The Big Red One 58.   Mid-August Lunch 59.   McCabe & Mrs. Miller 60.   Casablanca 61.   The Last Song 62.   Close Encounters of the Third Kind 63.   Sherlock, Jr. 64.   The Thin Red Line 65.   Modern Times 66.   Fantasia 67.   Mon Oncle 68.   Stagecoach 69.   Hallelujah 70.   Mademoiselle Chambon 71.   Double Take 72.   Black Swan 73.   Tangled 74.   The King’s Speech 75.   TRON: Legacy 76.   A Safe Place 77.   The King of Marvin Gardens 78.   Wings of Desire 79.   Head 80.   The Social Network 81.   Drive, He Said 82.   The Fighter 83.   Gold Diggers in Paris 84.   The Gay Divorcee 85.   The Love Parade 86.   127 Hours 87.   Never Let Me Go 88.   Forrest Gump 89.   A Film Unfinished 90.   How To Train Your Dragon 91.   Modern Times 92.   Malcolm X 93.   When I Rise 94.   Inception 95.   The Kids Are All Right 96.   A Time For Drunken Horses 97.   Our Hospitality 98.   The Ghost and Mrs. Muir 99.   The Mikado 100.   Something Ventured 101.   Five Time Champion 102.   Natural Selection 103.   Kumare                 104.    F#$k My Life 105.    Hesher 106.    Small, Beautifully Moving Parts 107.      Win Win 108.     Beats of Freedom 109.     Topsy-Turvy 110.     Taken By Storm                 111.     I Am a Fugitive From a Chain Gang 112.  Army of Shadows 113.  The Life of Emile Zola 114.   Rio 115.  East of Eden 116.  The Drummond Will 117.  Cooper 118.  Marriage Italian Style 119.  Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow 120.  Sunflower 121. Salt of This Sea 122. Casablanca 123.   The Happy Thieves 124.  The Art of Getting By 125. Patty Hearst 126. Breathless 127. The Tree of Life 128.  Nora’s Will 129.  Mr. Popper’s Penguins 130.                        My Man Godfrey 131.                        The Muppet Movie 132.                        Back to the Future 133.                        Back to the Future Part II 134.                        Back to the Future Part III 135.                        Rear Window 136.                        Q: The Winged Serpent 137.                        Cars 2 138.                        The Godfather Part II 139.                        Super 8 140.                        Dazed and Confused 141.                        All Night Long 142.                        The Tree of Life 143.                        Winnie the Pooh 144.                        M. Hulot’s Holiday 145.                        Snow Flower and the Secret Fan               146.                        A Thousand Clowns 147.                        Tokyo Story 148.                        The Smurfs 149.                        The League of Gentlemen 150.                        Malcolm X (1972) 151.                        Late Spring 152.                        Ladies & Gentlemen the Rolling Stones 153.                        The Princess Bride 154.                        Hud 155.                        The Boys 156.                        Poetry 157.                        Waking Sleeping Beauty               158.                        Martha Marcy May Marlene 159.                        Seduced and Abandoned 160.                        The Nightmare Before Christmas 161.                        The Third Man   162.                        Dressed To Kill 163.                        Echotone 164.                        Straw Dogs (1971) 165.                        Sapphire 166.                        Broken Embraces 167.                        The Wild One 168.                        La Belle et la Bête 169.                        The Tree of Life 170.                        Beauty and the Beast 171.                        Killer’s Kiss 172.                        The Producers 173.                        Camille (1921) 174.                        She’s Gotta Have It 175.                        La Belle et la Bête 176.                        The Descendants 177.                        Hugo 178.                        The Muppets 179.                        Another Earth 180.                        Rise of the Planet of the Apes 181.                        Alvin & the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked 182.                        The Artist 183.                        Arthur Christmas 184.                        The Curious Case of Benjamin Button 185.                        Midnight in Paris 186.                        War Horse 187.                        The Whistleblower 188.                        The Great Waltz 189.                        Manhattan 190.                        Annie Hall 191.                        The Help 192.                        Moneyball 193.                        Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close 194.                        Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2 195.                        The Lorax 196.                        Kid-Thing 197.                        Zodiac 198.                        Hunky Dory 199.                        Wolf 200.                        Tchoupitoulas 201.                        21 Jump Street 202.                        Crulic: The Path to Beyond 203.                        The Imposter 204.                        The Descendants 205.                        Victim 206.                        Revenge of the Electric Car 207.                        We Bought a Zoo 208.                        Titanic (3D) 209.                        Shame 210.                        The Jazz Singer 211.                        For Greater Glory 212.                        Lola Versus 213.                        The Avengers 214.                        Prometheus 215.                        Citizen Kane 216.                        Brave 217.                        Rio Bravo 218.                        The Black Hole 219.                        Thunder Soul 220.                        The Gold Rush 221.                        Children of Paradise 222.                        The Natural 223.                        An American in Paris 224.                        North By Northwest 225.                        Harold and Maude 226.                        Killer Joe 227.                        Gilda 228.                        Miss Bala 229.                        Bride of Frankenstein 230.                        The Graduate 231.                        Madagascar 3 232.                        Close Encounters of the Third Kind 233.                        Star Trek VI: The Final Frontier 234.                        TRON: Legacy 235.                        Rise of the Guardians 236.                        Lincoln 237.                        Finding Nemo 238.                        Hitchcock 239.                        The Illusionist 240.                        Les Misérables 241.                        A Christmas Story 242.                        Kit Kittredge: An American Girl 243.                        Silver Linings Playbook 244.                        The Apple Dumpling Gang 245.                        Zero Dark Thirty 246.                        Wreck-It Ralph 247.                        On the Waterfront 248.                        The Life of Pi 249.                        Argo 250.                        Bag It 251.                        Loves Her Gun 252.                        Good Night 253.                        Mud 254.                        Museum Hours 255.                        This Is Where We Live 256.                        Unreal Dream: The Michael Morton Story 257.                        Sake-Bomb 258.                        The Girl                 259.                        Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore 260.                        Return to the Hiding Place 261.                        The Purple Rose of Cairo 262.                        To The Wonder 263.                        Epic 264.                        There Will Be Blood 265.                        Star Trek Into Darkness 266.                        Lawrence of Arabia 267.                        The Birds 268.                        Star Trek: First Contact 269.                        Barry Lyndon 270.                        Star Wars: A New Hope 271.                        Saboteur 272.                        Hell’s House 273.                        Of Human Bondage 274.                        The Flowers of St. Francis 275.                        Monsters University 276.                        Old Joy 277.                        Out of Africa 278.                        Safety Last! 279.                        The Killing 280.                        A Night To Remember 281.                        Singin’ in the Rain 282.                        Sherlock, Jr. 283.                        The Smurfs 2 284.                        Planes 285.                        Sicko 286.                        Brief Encounter                 287.                        Meek’s Cutoff 288.                        Wendy and Lucy 289.                        Side By Side 290.                        A.I. Artificial Intelligence 291.                        Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs 2 292.                        Powaqqatsi 293.                        Machete Kills 294.                        Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back 295.                        The Royal Tenenbaums 296.                        Moonrise Kingdom 297.                        Bottle Rocket 298.                        The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou 299.                        The Exorcist 300.                        The Darjeeling Limited   301.                        Dreamgirls 302.                        Dallas Buyers Club 303.                        Brewster McCloud 304.                        Cruising                 305.                        City Lights 306.                        Saving Mr. Banks 307.                        Frozen   308.                    ��   Lili 309.                        The Gold Rush   310.                        Ninotchka 311.                        12 Angry Men 312.                        Lone Survivor 313.                        Her 314.                        The Nut Job 315.                        Cool It 316.                        American Hustle 317.                        Money and Medicine 318.                        Life Itself 319.                        The X From Outer Space 320.                        Captain Phillips 321.                        A Cat in Paris 322.                        Le Ciel est à Vous 323.                        Las Marthas 324.                        Rezeta 325.                        La Jaola de Oro 326.                        Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory                 327.                        Clue 328.                        Gravity 329.                        Nebraska 330.                        The Lego Movie                 331.                        Up 332.                        Liv & Ingmar 333.                        Before Midnight 334.                        Two Weeks in Another Town 335.                        Rio 2 336.                        All Is Lost 337.                        The Great Mouse Detective 338.                        The Adventures of Robin Hood 339.                        Stephen Tobolowsky’s Birthday Party 340.                        Belle 341.                        Bottled Up: The Battle Over Dublin Dr Pepper 342.                        My Dinner With Andre 343.                        Harry Dean Stanton Partly Fiction 344.                        The Lego Movie                 345.                        Bears 346.                        The Nightmare Before Christmas 347.                        Contempt 348.                        How To Train Your Dragon 2 349.                        Vertigo 350.                        Gojira 351.                        The Wizard of Oz 352.                        12 Angry Men 353.                        A Hard Day’s Night 354.                        Network 355.                        Picnic At Hanging Rock 356.                        Get On Up 357.                        E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial 358.                        The Drop             359.                        The Match Factory Girl   360.                        Dawn of the Planet of the Apes 361.                        Superman 362.                        Horse Feathers 363.                        I Married A Witch 364.                        The Grand Budapest Hotel           365.                        Il Sorpasso 366.                        Conde Drácula 367.                        Boyhood 368.                        Fun and Fancy Free 369.                        The Freshman (1925)     370.                        Intimidation       371.                        I Am Love 372.                        Fantastic Mr. Fox 373.                        The Freshman (1925)     374.                        The Freshman (1925) 375.                        Safe 376.                        Invitation to the Dance 377.                        Captain America: The Winter Soldier 378.                        Bicycle Thieves 379.                        Sherlock, Jr. 380.                        Whiplash 381.                        Ida 382.                        Tron 383.                        Return of the Jedi 384.                        Petting Zoo 385.                        Western 386.                        Cinderella (2015) 387.                        Lamb 388.                        Babysitter 389.                        The Thin Blue Line 390.                        Vernon, Florida 391.                        Gates of Heaven 392.                        Purple Rain 393.                        Sullivan’s Travels 394.                        Star Wars: Episode I 395.                        Safety Last! 396.                        Jesus Christ Superstar 397.                        Anatomy of a Murder 398.                        Mary Poppins 399.                        Inside Out 400.                        Love & Mercy 401.                        A Star Is Born (1954) 402.                        The Princess and the Frog 403.                        The Freshman (1925) 404.                        Zazie dans la Métro 405.                        The Treasure of the Sierra Madre 406.                        Lilo & Stitch 407.                        Monkey Kingdom 408.                        Foreign Correspondent 409.                        The Princess Bride 410.                        Tomorrowland 411.                        Rome: Open City 412.                        A Hard Day’s Night 413.                        Star Trek: Generations 414.                        The Roaring Twenties 415.                        Following the Ninth 416.                        Samantha: An American Girl Holiday 417.                        He Named Me Malala 418.                        Wings of Life 419.                        Singin’ in the Rain 420.                        The Peanuts Movie 421.                        Spotlight 422.                        The Good Dinosaur 423.                        Fantasia 2000 424.                        Reel Injun 425.                        It Happened One Night 426.                        Star Wars: The Force Awakens 427.                        Star Wars: Episode II 428.                        Concussion 429.                        One Hour With You 430.                        Enchanted 431.                        A Room With A View 432.                        The Hateful Eight 433.                        Speedy 434.                        Time Out of Mind 435.                        Cinderella (2015) 436.                        The Lady Vanishes 437.                        Naqoyqatsi 438.                        Suzanne’s Career 439.                        Bear Country 440.                        The 100 Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window… 441.                        Bandidas 442.                        Star Wars: The Force Awakens 443.                        Virtuosity 444.                        The Big Short 445.                        Two Days, One Night 446.                        The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe 447.                        Bridge of Spies 448.                        Brooklyn 449.                        Michael Jackson From Motown To Off The Wall 450.                        Tower 451.                        Transpecos 452.                        Last Night at the Alamo 453.                        Claire In Motion 454.                        Zootopia 455.                        Bodyguard 456.                        W. 457.                        The Adventures of Pepper and Paula 458.                        The Jungle Book (2016) 459.                        Star Wars: The Force Awakens 460.                        Captain America: Civil War 461.                        What About Bob? 462.                        Love & Friendship 463.                        Dial M For Murder 464.                        Garfield                 465.                        Ben-Hur 466.                        To Kill A Mockingbird 467.                        Citizenfour 468.                        Finding Dory 469.                        Ant-Man 470.                        The Quiet Man 471.                        The Peanuts Movie 472.                        The BFG 473.                        My Dinner With Andre 474.                        Children of Men 475.                        The Last Temptation of Christ 476.                        The Secret Life of Pets 477.                        Chimes At Midnight 478.                        Brewed in the 210 479.                        Saturday Night Fever 480.                        The New World 481.                        Who Framed Roger Rabbit 482.                        Walt & El Grupo 483.                        Saludos Amigos                 484.                        The Jungle Book (2016) 485.                        The Last Picture Show 486.                        Beetlejuice 487.                        The King and I 488.                        Ride in the Whirlwind 489.                        Dracula 490.                        The Angry Birds Movie 491.                        The Sword in the Stone 492.                        Queen of Katwe 493.                        The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad 494.                        Beetlejuice 495.                        Dracula 496.                        Arrival 497.                        Tron: Legacy 498.                        Akira Kurosawa’s Dreams 499.                        Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them 500.                        Boomerang (1947) 501.                        Safety Last! 502.                        South of the Border 503.                        Honey, I Shrunk The Kids 504.                        Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them 505.                        Jiro Dreams of Sushi 506.                        Rogue One 507.                        Moana   508.                        Once 509.                        Redes 510.                        Max Dugan Returns 511.                        Amadeus 512.                        The New World 513.                        13th 514.                        Star Trek III: The Search for Spock 515.                        Yarn 516.                        Paddington 517.                        Hidden Figures 518.                        Doctor Strange 519.                        The Lego Batman Movie 520.                        Clue 521.                        The Honor Farm 522.                        Mr. Roosevelt 523.                        La Barracuda 524.                        The Ballad of Lefty Brown 525.                        Beauty and the Beast (2017) 526.                        Cat People 527.                        The Adventures of Tintin 528.                        The Freshman (1925) 529.                        The Artist 530.                        Day for Night 531.                        Stranger on the Third Floor 532.                        Twentieth Century 533.                        Modern Times 534.                        Alien: Covenant                 535.                        Diary of a Wimpy Kid: The Long Haul 536.                        Norman 537.                        Casablanca 538.                        Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie 539.                        Alvin & the Chipmunks: Road Chip 540.                        The Man Who Knew Too Much 541.        ��               Cars 3 542.                        The Sugarland Express 543.                        Redes 544.                        School of Rock 545.                        Duck Soup 546.                        Cat People 547.                        Tower 548.                        War for the Planet of the Apes 549.                        Pete’s Dragon (2016) 550.                        Richard Linklater: Dream Is Destiny 551.                        The Double Life of Veronique 552.                        Dunkirk                 553.                        The Adventures of Robin Hood 554.                        Something Wicked This Way Comes 555.                        Young Frankenstein 556.                        Duck Soup 557.                        Tampopo 558.                        Beggars of Life 559.                        Tender Mercies                 560.                        The Princess and the Frog 561.                        Rogue One 562.                        Steve Jobs 563.                        Despicable Me 3 564.                        Close Encounters of the Third Kind 565.                        Koyaanisqatsi 566.                        Honeysuckle Rose 567.                        Wonder Woman 568.                        Creed 569.                        North By Northwest 570.                        Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets 571.                        The Nightmare Before Christmas 572.                        Altered States 573.                        Dealt 574.                        Star Wars: The Force Awakens 575.                        My Cousin Rachel (2017) 576.                        Get Out                 577.                        Planet of the Apes (1968) 578.                        Tomorrowland 579.                        Justice League 580.                        The Disaster Artist 581.                        Thor: Ragnarok 582.                        Beneath the Planet of the Apes 583.                        Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me 584.                        The Philadelphia Story 585.                        Escape From the Planet of the Apes 586.                        Ferdinand 587.                        Star Wars: The Last Jedi 588.                        Darkest Hour 589.                        Coco 590.                        Dunkirk                 591.                        Phantom Thread 592.                        Paddington 2 593.                        Arrival 594.                        Spider-Man: Homecoming 595.                        Conquest of the Planet of the Apes 596.                        Our Souls at Night 597.                        Mudbound 598.                        The Post 599.                        Germany Year Zero 600.                        Trading Places 601.                        The Shape of Water 602.                        Black Panther 603.                        Logan 604.                        The Simpsons Movie 605.                        Wings 606.                        Miss Congeniality 607.                        Never Cry Wolf 608.                        Something Wicked This Way Comes 609.                        Pride and Prejudice (2005) 610.                        Moana 611.                        Ready Player One 612.                        Viva Max 613.                        Red River 614.                        Bridget Jones’s Baby 615.                        Avengers: Infinity War 616.                        The Sugarland Express 617.                        Selena 618.                        Peaceful Warrior 619.                        Spider-Man 2 620.                        Stagecoach 621.                        The Godfather, Part III 622.                        Solo: A Star Wars Story 623.                        Jaws 624.                        Peter Pan 625.                        The Day the Earth Stood Still 626.                        Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs 627.                        Won’t You Be My Neighbor? 628.                        Daughters of the Dust 629.                        Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan 630.                        Time Bandits 631.                        Incredibles 2 632.                        Avatar 633.                        On the Waterfront 634.                        Forks Over Knives 635.                        It Happened One Night 636.                        Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl 637.                        Ant-Man and the Wasp 638.                        A Quiet Place 639.                        Full Metal Jacket 640.                        The Thin Blue Line 641.                        The Ballad of Gregorio Cortez 642.                        Teen Titans Go! To The Movies 643.                        The Reluctant Dragon 644.                        Tokyo Story 645.                        The Karate Kid (1984) 646.                        Blazing Saddles 647.                        The Black Cauldron

648.                        Back to the Future 649.                        2001: A Space Odyssey 650.                        Blaze 651.                        In Old Arizona 652.                        Crazy Rich Asians 653.                        Ocean’s 8 654.                        Star Wars: A New Hope 655.                        The Tree of Life (Extended Cut) 656.                        First Man 657.                        Food, Inc. 658.                        Napoleon Dynamite 659.                        Halloween (2018) 660.                        Christopher Robin 661.                        Battle for the Planet of the Apes               662.                        Paris, Je t’aime 663.                        Breakfast at Tiffany’s 664.                        Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald 665.                        Back to the Future, Part II 666.                        Koyaanisqatsi 667.                        Creed II                 668.                        True Stories 669.                        Ralph Breaks the Internet 670.                        Spider-Man Into the Spider-Verse 671.                        The Last Command 672.                        Mary Poppins Returns 673.                        The Primary Instinct 674.                        Rise of the Planet of the Apes 675.                        An Inconvenient Truth 676.                        A Christmas Story 677.                        BlacKkKlansman 678.                        Annihilation 679.                        A Star Is Born (2018) 680.                        That’s Entertainment, Part 2 681.                        Close Encounters of the Third Kind 682.                        Teen Titans Go! To The Movies 683.                        Back to the Future, Part III 684.                        Stranger Than Paradise 685.                        On the Basis of Sex 686.                        Bohemian Rhapsody 687.                        The Favourite 688.                        First Reformed 689.                        Dawn of the Planet of the Apes 690.                        Cold War 691.                        They Shall Not Grow Old 692.                        The Iron Orchard 693.                        Free Solo 694.                        Captain Marvel 695.                        The Little Mermaid 696.                        Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End 697.                        Wasted! The Story of Food Waste 698.                        Green Book 699.                        La Bamba 700.                        Running for Good 701.                        Us 702.                        War for the Planet of the Apes 703.                        I, Tonya                 704.                        Avengers: Endgame 705.                        Amazing Grace (2019) 706.                        Shazam! 707.                        Testament 708.                        Vice 709.                        Raiders of the Lost Ark 710.                        The Umbrellas of Cherbourg 711.                        Planet of the Apes (2001) 712.                        Aladdin (2019) 713.                        The Ballad of Gregorio Cortez 714.                        Detour 715.                        The Hitch-Hiker 716.                        The Border 717.                        Toy Story 4 718.                        Flight 719.                        Do the Right Thing 720.                        Midnight Cowboy 721.                        Spider Man: Far From Home 722.                        Some Like It Hot 723.                        Strangers on a Train 724.                        Red Hook Summer 725.                        All That Heaven Allows 726.                        Cowspiracy 727.                        Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood 728.                        Zodiac 729.                        Wings of Desire                 730.                        The Blues Brothers 731.                        The Farewell 732.                        Super Size Me 733.                        Safety Last! 734.                        Hustlers 735.                        Raiders of the Lost Ark 736.                        The Game Changers 737.                        Downton Abbey 738.                        The Body Snatcher 739.                        The Lion King (2019) 740.                        Ad Astra 741.                        The Terminator 742.                        The Irishman 743.                        Frozen II 744.                        Our Dancing Daughters 745.                        The Castaway Cowboy 746.                        The Thin Man 747.                        Linda Ronstadt: The Sound of My Voice 748.                        Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker 749.                        Doctor Sleep 750.                        A Hidden Life 751.                        Bombshell 752.                        Fed Up 753.                        Miracle on 34th Street 754.                        Brittany Runs a Marathon

[nosoytubebe]

Under a certain little star / Bajo una pequeña estrella - Wislawa Szymborska

My apologies to chance for calling it necessity. My apologies to necessity in case I’m mistaken. May happiness not be angry if I take it for my own. May the dead forgive me that their memory’s but a flicker. My apologies to time for the multiplicity of the world overlooked  each second. My apologies to an old love for treating the new one as the first. Forgive me far-off wars for taking my flowers home. Forgive me open wounds for pricking my finger. My apologies for the minuet record, to those calling out from the  abyss. My apologies to those in railway stations for sleeping comfortably  at five in the morning. Pardon me hounded hope for laughing sometimes. Pardon me deserts for not rushing in with a spoonful of water. And you O hawk, the same bird for years in the same cage, forever still and staring at the same spot, absolve me even if you happened to be stuffed. My apologies to the tree felled for four table legs. My apologies to large questions for small answers. Truth, do not pay me too much attention. Solemnity, be magnanimous to me. Endure, O mystery of being that I might pull threads from your  veil. Soul, don’t blame me that I’ve got you so seldom. My apologies to everything that I can’t be everywhere. My apologies to all for not knowing how to be every man and  woman. I know that as long as I live nothing can excuse me, because I myself am my own obstacle. Do not hold it against me, O speech, that I borrow weighty words, and then labor to make them light.

_______________________________________ 

Que me disculpe la coincidencia por llamarla necesidad. Que me disculpe la necesidad, si a pesar de ello me equivoco. Que no se enoje la felicidad por considerarla mía. Que me olviden los muertos que apenas si brillan en la memoria. Que me disculpe el tiempo por el mucho mundo pasado por alto a cada segundo. Que me disculpe mi viejo amor por considerar al nuevo el primero. Perdonadme, guerras lejanas, por traer flores a casa. Perdonadme, heridas abiertas, por pincharme en el dedo. Que me disculpen los que claman desde el abismo el disco de un minué. Que me disculpe la gente en las estaciones por el sueño a las cinco de la mañana. Perdóname, esperanza acosada, por reírme a veces. Perdonadme, desiertos, por no correr con una cuchara de agua. Y tú, gavilán, hace años el mismo, en esta misma jaula, inmóvil mirando fijamente el mismo punto siempre, absuélveme, aunque fueras un ave disecada. Que me disculpe el árbol talado por las cuatro patas de la mesa. Que me disculpen las grandes preguntas por las pequeñas respuestas. Verdad, no me prestes demasiada atención. Solemnidad, sé magnánima conmigo. Soporta, misterio de la existencia, que arranque hilos de tu cola. No me acuses, alma, de poseerte pocas veces. Que me perdone todo por no poder estar en todas partes. Que me perdonen todos por no saber ser cada uno de ellos, cada una de ellas. Sé que mientras viva nada me justifica porque yo misma me lo impido. Habla, no me tomes a mal que tome prestadas palabras patéticas y que me esfuerce después para que parezcan ligeras.

[sirfrogsworth]

I’d like to tell you about a German photographer and owl falconer extraordinaire named Tanja Brandt. 

It’s hard to put into words just how amazing Tanja is. 

It was also hard to find out the words that described Tanja. Literally.

Most of her information was in German and I only took high school Spanish. ¡Me gusta el búho! However, with some google translate I was able to convert the German into Spanish. Which my mind then translated into English. After consulting a few of my old Spanish text books, I was able to piece it all together. ¡Soy muy inteligente! 

Tanja keeps and trains predatory birds. She mostly works with owls. Her ability to wrangle and bend them to her mighty will is unprecedented. 

That’s probably not true. Soy un sucio mentiroso.

Unprecedented is too strong. I can’t back that up. I know nothing about the owl falconry community. I’m sure there are plenty of other badass owl falconers. I just wanted to make her sound even cooler. La culpa es abrumadora. Mis disculpas. 

Tanja works with a faithful companion named Ingo. He is a beautiful Belgian Shepard. El perro es las rodillas de la abeja.

They all get along famously. 

Tanja is a superb photographer. Her eye for composition and technical skills are both fantástico. Or as the Germans say... fantastisch. Which I’m pretty sure in English means super good.  

Tanja is able to find and compose near impossible shots involving the most unruly subjects. Working with animals can be frustrating to say the least. Los animales son bastardos. But she finds a way to make it all come together with no compromises. She sees the image in her mind’s eye and works tirelessly to convert imagination into reality. A veces mi escritura es pretenciosa.

In these photos she lines up the sun, gets the owl on Ingo’s back, and then moves Ingo into perfect position. All while the sun is dashing toward the horizon trying to plunge everything into darkness. ¡Ay Dios mio!

Some folks suspect that she cheats. Perhaps she has a secret photography weapon with killer animal instincts and binocular vision. Ese búho es astuto.

I was unable to confirm that suspicion. El secreto del búho está a salvo conmigo.

Ingo the Shepard Dog is pretty amazing as well. He is a pup of many talents. 

He is an avid reader.  

He enjoys a rousing game of chess. 

He can fly.

Not only is he an excellent motorist, but he carpools to help save the environment. Bocinazo para perras.

Did I mention he can fly? Este loco perro puede levitar.

But all of those abilities pale in comparison to Ingo’s most impressive talent. 

Ingo is an owl whisperer. ¡Mierda, eso es increíble!

Owls are a difficult bird to get along with. Some say they have “resting angry face.” Ese pájaro está enojado como el infierno.

Others say they are actually angry.

It doesn’t matter how off guard you try to catch them. They will always sense your presence, peer deep into your soul, and give you that trademark angry face. Hay un hoyo en esta hoja.

Even under a pretty pink flower they just can’t get rid of that instinctual owl rage. 

There is only one thing that seems to snap them out of their disdain for the world and everything in it. 

That’s right... Ingo the Shepard Dog.

Ingo is always there to brighten an angry owl’s day.

Turn that angry beak upside down. 

Wait... don’t do that. 

An upside down beak would look really weird. ¡Horrores inimaginables! 

I’m sorry little guy. Please come back. I anthropomorphized recklessly. It won’t happen again.

Don’t worry. Ingo is here. Just enjoy each other’s company and relax. Let those stressful owl feelings melt away from his doggie goodness. Esa amistad es preciosa.

I hope you enjoyed this look at Tanja’s work. There are a bunch of cool places you can visit to see more. 

I highly recommend her 500px page. It has a ton of amazing photos that will continue to blow your mind. Tu mente se encenderá en llamas.

[Tanja Brandt 500px]

She also has a fantastic Instagram page with superb owls and more Ingo.

[Tanja Brandt Instagram]

And she has a home page with more great photos and a bunch of words I do not understand. That is, until I convert them into Spanish. And then into English. 

Ya know, I feel like I’m adding an unnecessary step in there. Soy un idiota.

[Ingoundelse]

La mayoría de ustedes probablemente no lea español. Puedo decir cualquier cosa. Tengo pezones peludos.

Hast du gerade pelzige Brustwarzen gesagt?

Sí.

[mixerloading834]

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[acinematicmoment]

Films seen in 2017

Eye in the Sky, La La Land, Rogue One, Julieta, Zootopia, Grizzly Man, How to Steal a Million, Piper (short), 12 Angry Men (2nd time), Sing (short), Breakfast at Tiffany’s (3rd time), Get Out, Arrival (2nd time), The Conformist (5th time), Manchester by the Sea, Lo and Behold, The Usual Suspects (2nd time), Jackie, Paprika (2nd time), Bringing up Baby, La Chinoise, Hannah and her Sisters, Your Name, Okja, Young Frankenstein, Walkabout, Ali: Fear Eats the Soul, A Nos Amours, It Happened One Night, High School, Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, Paper Moon, La Ceremonie, La Cienaga, Une Affaire De Femmes, The Magnificent Ambersons, Citizen Kane, Seven Samourai, Don’t Look Now, Shadow of a Doubt (2nd time), Jaws, Sunset Boulevard (2nd time), Ida (2nd time), His Girl Friday (2nd time), Thelma, Bonnie and Clyde, Save My Seoul, Blade Runner 2049, Nothing but a Man, The Salesman, Ratatouille (2nd time), We Need to Talk about Kevin, The Little Prince, Lady Bird, Election (2nd time), The Square, The Murder on the Orient Express, The Florida Project, The Maltese Falcon, Millennium Mambo

Favorites bolded.

[seriouslyblacklikemysoul]

“Brisé, pourtant vivant” - Part III - S.B.

   [A/N: So, I hope you’ll like it. Things are getting pretty...serious(every damn pun intended) Warnings: the usual stuff. My English and swearing. (Age gap?) Gifs are not mine. Credits to their original owners. Also, to J.K. Rowling.]

PART I  

PART II

Things were heating up. Molly was angry. Sirius wasn’t backing down.    “It’s not down to you to decide what’s good for Harry!” she said in a rather sharp tone that made me quirk an eyebrow. “You haven’t forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?” she continued. Now, don’t get me wrong. I did think that Dumbledore was indeed the only one who Voldemort was afraid of, but I didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust Dumbledore.   “Which bit?” Sirius asked forcing his voice to be polite but if you knew him at all, you would understand that he was up for the fight.   “The bit about not telling Harry more than he needs to know,” she fired back with emphasis.   “I don’t intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly. But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back he has the right to —” Sirius tried to reason her but she wasn’t having it. This crosstalk kept going on and on until-   “He’s not your son,” said Sirius quietly. But the pain was visible. Every inch of his face was stained with it.   “He’s as good as,” she said. “Who else has he got?”. That was low Molly. That was way too low.     “He’s got me!”.     “Yes, well. The thing is, it’s been rather difficult for you to look after him while you’ve been locked up in Azkaban, hasn’t it?”.   “MOLLY”. Shit. I yelled at her before I could shut my mouth. Sirius started to rise from his chair. He was paler than usual. His eyes fell on me and my breath was caught in my throat. He was in hell. He was in pain. Probably reliving every single second.   “Ask him, Molly. Ask Harry. It’s his choice anyway” I said coldly as I fixed my eyes on her.   “I want to know what’s been going on,” Harry said at once. I sent a small smile at him.  After that, I zoned out. I was already aware of everything. There was one major problem though. I could never trust the mastermind behind this. He was concocting a plan that very few people were aware. One of them was Snape. I knew things about Dumbledore’s life and background… things that made me think that he was just as cruel and manipulative as Voldemort, if not more. You see, Voldemort didn’t hide behind a fake façade. People knew who he was and what he has done. Dumbledore on the other hand… not so much. He was not a saint. Yet, almost everyone was willing to trust him with their lives. Maybe I was being paranoid, I thought to myself.   Everything seemed so easier a few years ago. I remember the common room and my dorm. I remember how the stars would come unstuck from an indigo ceiling, falling around me like comets and how they would swallow the Earth and the sun and everything we’ve ever known. I remember myself saying that when this world ends up in blue fire… we will be infinite. I could still feel the light breeze through the wide windows. The smell of old books and chocolate, of smoke and perfume. How the night sky would keep me company all those nights that loneliness had decided to pay me a visit.   How serene everything was… how it was always darker before dawn. The hollow lie was that I could see the sun shining, the moon radiating, hear the birds singing. I could see the life around me. But I could not feel the warmth of the sun or the shivers of the moon. The bird’s song was nothing more than white noise. Yes, the sore truth was-is- that I am empty. Alive but not living. I felt like I was drowning. I needed air.           “Beds. NOW. All of you” I heard Molly saying. She started pushing them out and all the way to their bedrooms. I wanted to get out of here but all I could do was sit there and stare into space. Too lost to be found.   “Rose!”. I slightly jumped at the sound, trying to focus on the person who called my name.   “Hm?” I hummed. I just wanted air. I just wanted some time alone. I was too sober for this.   “Well, I was asking if you’d like something to drink. Fire whiskey, butterbeer… um and red wine” Tonks was rambling. But right there, the last words made my head pop up causing my eyes to shine with mischievousness. She laughed, poured me a generous amount of wine into a glass and handed to me with a smirk. Oh my Merlin. Please don’t let her know.  My gaze shifted to him as he ran his lips to the rim of the crystal he held delicately between his slender fingertips. His glass was filled with the same blood red looking substance as mine. When his tongue flicker against the crystal, I removed my gaze from him.   It was reckless getting lost like that. I took a rather large sip out of my drink tasting the silky undertone that it held. It was sublime. Something rear. It tasted like blackberries and smoke, wood and dust… perfectly able to get you tipsy from the very first sip.   “Dora, love, take it easy”. Remus looked at her with concern while she was downing another shot of fire whiskey. Not wise. She laughed… oh, my. She was already drunk.   “You can stay here, you know. I doubt she is in any condition to apparate” Sirius said calmly looking over at his friend.   “Oh, Siri, you are so dense” she said while Remus was scooping her. She couldn’t even stand but she sure was able to make me blush. Thankfully, I hid it. “Yeah, I think we are staying over. Stop it Tonks” Remus told him, ignoring Dora’s comment. She was trying to tickle him. “Yeah, yeah. Get a room. My eyes hurt” I commented at them and their compromising position. Remus blushed. He was such a dork. Sirius let out a kind laugh. A true one. It was so melodic and magnetic and-   “Goodnight guys” he waved at us and muted Dora by covering her mouth with his hand. After a while, the silence was deafening. I couldn’t master to look anywhere near him. For fuck’s sake! “She was right, you know”. His voice made my head snap. His gaze met mine. I was a bit taken aback. By the honesty and the pain that his eyes held. He was referring to Molly.   “No. She wasn’t” I simply stated like it was so obvious that anyone could see it. She wasn’t right.   “I haven’t been around, Rose. I was locked up. For twelve years. I have literally offered nothing-”   “Stop. Please, stop” I whispered cutting him off. How could he think so low of himself? “You can’t see it, can you? You have been brutally broken, so many times… yet you manage to be gentle towards others, caring and kind. Do you realize how much you deserve? You know, I was always told that there were monsters under my bed. But they were never there. They were inside my head. They tried to convince me that since I wasn’t afraid of them, I had become one. But I am no monster. I know that now. And if I am able to forgive and move on… to accept and proceed… then you cannot, by any means, leave yourself behind thinking so low of who you are. I have met many people in my life. Yet, the most beautiful souls are the most damaged ones. That’s because every day they make a conscious choice… every single day. They chose to be better, not to be defined by their past. And you are one of those people. So, no. I can’t accept that you would think that she was right”. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it wasn’t. Not that it matters. Not that it ever did. Our eyes were locked. I knew that he would never look at me like I wanted him to but I couldn’t help my shattering heart.     His hair fell around his handsome face in dark loose tendrils and his dark gray eyes were reflecting a perfect storm. I finally realized why tornados were named after people. His gaze had me captivated, unable to do anything but return it. All air had left my lungs. Fuck, it had left the building.     He didn’t say anything. I heard my heart falling to the ground with an echo that made me shiver. We had looked at each other a little too long to be just friends. I stood up, finally coming to my senses, turning on my heels, ready to leave and go straight to a room that was in this very building.   “Roza…”. I froze; in place, in time. It was late. The night was never my best counselor. So, instead of walking away, not giving in to his husky voice calling me by my nickname… I turned around, facing him and I decided, why not?   “Pourquoi? Pourquoi avez-vous reposé votre âme dans les mains qui la traitent si cruellement, des mains qui ne pourraient jamais la gérer parce qu'elles ne méritent pas quelque chose de si beau? Belle âme... Ça n'en finit pas de m'étonner” I breathed out, on the verge of crying. How could he hurt the only thing I cared about? How could-   Trying to turn and walk away, I stumbled and fell. Well, sort of. A pair of strong arms were instantly wrapped around my waist. My face was buried in his chest. His scent was intoxicating me. I was screaming at myself, wanting to bang my head against the wall. Everything was spinning.

Part IV

Part V (smut)

[Pourquoi? Pourquoi avez-vous reposé votre âme dans les mains qui la traitent si cruellement, des mains qui ne pourraient jamais la gérer parce qu'elles ne méritent pas quelque chose de si beau? Belle âme... Ça n'en finit pas de m'étonner = Why? Why did you rest your soul in the hands that treat it so cruelly, hands that could never manage it because they do not deserve something so beautiful? Beautiful soul. It never ceases to amaze me.]

[sonyclasica]

HEITOR PEREIRA

BANDA SONORA ORIGINAL DE LA PELÍCULA PLAYMOBIL: THE MOVIE

Sony Music anuncia el lanzamiento de PLAYMOBIL: THE MOVIE (ORIGINAL MOTION PICTURE SOUNDTRACK), con música del compositor ganador del premio GRAMMY® HEITOR PEREIRA (Gru, mi villano favorito, The Angry Birds Movie, Smallfoot) y canciones de las estrellas pop MEGHAN TRAINOR y ADAM LAMBERT. Disponible el 2 de agosto.

Escucha “Run Like The River” de Meghan Trainor

Reserva la banda sonora aquí

Disponible a través de Sony Music Masterworks, la banda sonora se publica tras el lanzamiento  el mes pasado de "Run Like the River" de Meghan Trainor, escrita por la cantante pop para su personaje en la comedia de aventura de animación. Meghan presta su voz, junto a un elenco lleno de estrellas, que incluye a Daniel Radcliffe, Anya Taylor-Joy, Jim Gaffigan, Gabriel Bateman y Kenan Thompson, así como el artista multiplatino Adam Lambert, que también aporta a la banda sonora una canción original titulada “Give The People What They Want.” Dirigida por Lino DiSalvo y basada en los famosos juegos infantiles, Playmobil: The Movie se estrena en los cines el 30 de agosto.

De la banda sonora, el compositor HEITOR PEREIRA dice: "Fue un placer difundir el mensaje de la película, que habla de la positividad, la exploración del mundo y la unión familiar."

La compositora ANNE PREVEN dice: "HEITOR [PEREIRA] y yo tuvimos que colaborar de forma total, porque parte de la idea era dejar que la música saliera de las canciones y viceversa, y que la banda sonora no tuviera una estructura del tipo música- canción-música- canción, que no me gusta especialmente.

Cuando su hermano menor, Charlie, desaparece repentinamente en el mágico y animado universo PLAYMOBIL®, Marla debe embarcarse en la aventura de su vida para que traerlo de vuelta a casa. En su increíble viaje a través de nuevos y emocionantes mundos, Marla se encuentra con compañeros muy diferentes, extraños y heroicos, entre ellos el loco dueño de un foodtruck, Del; el intrépido y encantador agente secreto Rex Dasher; un robot fiel y adorable, tan divertido como el hada madrina y muchos más. En el curso de su espectacular aventura, Marla y Charlie se dan cuenta de que pueden hacer cualquier cosa en la vida si crees en ti mismo.

Sobre la película, el director LINO DISALVO dice: "Creo que Playmobil: The Movie es el tipo de película que puede llegar al público de todo el mundo.

Con Lino DiSalvo en su debut como director y escrita por Blaise Hemingway, Greg Erb y Jason Oremland.

Playmobil: The Movie es una producción de On Animation Studios.

© 2019 – 2.9 FILM HOLDING LTD – MORGEN PRODUCTION GMBH

PLAYMOBIL: LA PELÍCULA (BANDA SONORA ORIGINAL DE LA PELÍCULA)

Lista de temas

1 So Much World

2 Brothers In Arms

3 Give The People What They Want

4 Rex Dasher

5 For the Love of Gold

6 Run Like The River

7 So Much World (Remix)

8 Charlie's Plan

9 Viking Battle

10 Driving with Del

11 Desert Desertion

12 Roundin' Up a Posse

13 Triceratops!

14 A World of Playmobil

15 Transformation

16 Del and Marla

17 Emperor's Theme

18 Rex Dasher Suite

19 Thugs Suite

20 Glinara

21 Climbing to Constantinopolis

22 Searching for Charlie

23 The Coliseum

24 Battling the T-Rex

25 This is Goodbye

SOBRE HEITOR PEREIRA

En 1997, al guitarrista y compositor brasileño Heitor Pereira le encargaron una canción para la comedia de James Brooks, nominada al Oscar, "Mejor... imposible", y desde entonces, la magia de la música para películas lo cautivó. Más recientemente, escribió la música de exitosas películas familiares como Los pitufos y Los pitufos 2, el éxito de taquilla Gru, mi villano favorito, y la comedia animada basada en la popular aplicación de vídeo de Rovio, The Angry Birds Movie. Junto a Pharrell Williams puso música a la primera película de Gru, mi villano favorito y compuso la banda sonora de It's Complicated de Nancy Meyers, protagonizada por Meryl Streep, Steve Martin y Alec Baldwin. Fue colaboró en la ocmposición de la música del drama Riding in Cars with Boys, y contribuyó con música para una serie de películas famosas, como Mission: Impossible II, Black Hawk Down, Shrek 2, Spanglish y The Holiday.

Pereira ha compuesto la música para una amplia variedad de películas, abarcando desde los ritmos latinos de Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights hasta el animado toque de Curious George, desde el descarado Beverly Hills Chihuahua hasta la romántica fantasía A Little Bit of Heaven. Además de James Brooks, ha colaborado con Penny Marshall, Robert Towne y James Moll. El trabajo más reciente de Heitor incluye la película de Warner Bros. aclamada por la crítica, If I Stay, protagonizada por Chloe Grace Moretz; el éxito de taquilla Minions para Universal y las secuelas animadas, The Nut Job 2, Gru, mi villano favorito 3, la comedia familiar Show Dogs y la aventura animada Smallfoot. Sus próximos trabajos incluyen The Angry Birds Movie 2 dirigida por Thurop Van Orman y Minions 2 dirigida por Kyle Balda.

"Creo que la música comienza en el momento en que somos concebidos", dijo Pereira. "Corre por nuestras venas." Ciertamente así sucedió en el hogar musical brasileño de su infancia, y continuó mientras tocaba la guitarra con algunos de los músicos de jazz más legendarios del país (incluido Ivan Lins). Como guitarrista, Pereira tocó con la banda de soul inglesa Simply Red durante los primeros años de la década de los 90 hasta comenzar su actual aventura con la música de cine. Vive en Los Ángeles con su esposa e hijos.

CONECTA CON HEITOR PEREIRA

https://www.heitorpereira.com/

[jakewright]

Top 10

As a recent member of 'Club 30', I thought I would reflect on the past 25 years of listening to music and select my 'Top 10'  favourite songs of all time. I plan to revisit this when I'm 60 and see whether my taste has changed. 

A special mention must go to The Beatles, Gerry Rafferty, The Verve and Dekker, Desmond & The Aces, who didn’t make the cut, but who I owe for influencing and shaping my early sojourn into the world of music.

First clause: It's a top 12.

Second clause: There's no particular order.

1.     AC/DC – You Shook Me All Night Long

I became a hard rock addict when I first heard the strutting two-barrel guitar riffs of AC/DC's T.N.T on Tony Hawks Pro-Skater 4. As a mid-teens teenager with a new electric guitar, I was obsessed with learning licks and riffs in my room and AC/DC provided me with the right rhythm and blues to get me rocking-out in front of the mirror. Obviously, Back in Black was the go-to album with more than enough guitar licks to master, but it was You Shook Me All Night Long that struck deepest, with its jangly intro; no fucks given power chords verse, and bluesy guitar solo that had me hook, line and sinker. I will never ever tire of hearing it and I will never tire of 'Acca Dacca'.

2.     The Cult – She Sells Sanctuary

Another song that was introduced to me by a video game. If I remember correctly, The Cult's She Sells Sanctuary was on the playlist of in-game radio station V-Rock on Grand Theft Auto Vice City. It grabbed me instantly with its pulsating rhythm, catchy lyrics and psychedelic lead riff. The song's energy is addictive and always has me coming back for more.

3.     Arctic Monkeys – A Certain Romance

The most important band to have ever graced my late adolescence. Through Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not, Turner and Co. produced a soundtrack to our lives at the time, telling the familiar stories of drinking, fighting, clubbing, trying to chat up girls and having a tight group of friends – more like brothers – to experience it all with. A Certain Romance is by far my favourite song on the album. Its honesty, sincerity and poignancy reminds me of the best and worst parts of growing up. There's a lyric in the song that goes, Well over there, there's friends of mine / What can I say? I've known 'em for a long long time / And yeah they might overstep the line / But I just cannot get angry in the same way. Every time I hear it, I think of the friends of my youth and realise that without them I wouldn't be the man I am today.

4.     De La Soul – Eye Know

A song to fall in love to. Lyrics, samples and production - closest thing to hip-hop perfection.  

5.     Pharoahe Monch – Push (Feat. Showtime, Mela Machinko & Tower Power)

I bought Pharoahe Monch's album Desire back in 2007 on a whim. The album is truly great, but Push captured me wholeheartedly. The all-consuming bass line and flourish of trumpets truly shocks the soul into life like a round of CPR. The song itself is about keeping ones resolve and never giving up no matter how tough things get. Advice we can all heed.

I live my life one day at a time / Hold my head, so I don't lose my mind / Sometimes you might fall down / But you get back up, get on your journey / Yeah, keep on pushin'

6.     Bob Marley & The Wailers – Three Little Birds

Where to start. I was given Legend by Bob Marley & The Wailers when I was about 10 years-old as a birthday/Christmas present. It's was a great introduction to reggae and the songs of Bob, Tosh and Bunny. When I heard the simple but beautiful Three Little Birds I instantly knew it would be a favourite of mine. The reassuring refrain of Don't worry about a thing / 'Cause every little thing gonna be all right genuinely warms my heart. Couple this with the fact that it's one of my beloved Cardiff City's walkout songs, and that Ninian Park (Cardiff's old football ground) once hosted the great man himself makes the connection all the deeper.  

7.     The Pogues – Misty Morning Albert Bridge

Not a song, but pure poetry. A poem about dreams, love and the passage of time. Its references to London's Albert Bridge and Celtic melodies remind me of my Northern Irish grandparents, who met in London in the 1940s and would have undoubtedly passed by the bridge during their courtship and early married life. Sadly, neither of them are with us any more but when I hear this song I like to think of them both, meeting for the first time and falling in love (possibly by the Albert Bridge). Jem Finer's lyrics in the final verse make me deeply believe that one day I will see them both again. Goosebumps.

Count the days / Slowly passing by / Step on a plane/ And fly away / I'll see you then / As the dawn birds sing / On a cold and misty morning / By the Albert Bridge

8.     Jurassic 5 – Concrete Schoolyard

There’s enough groove on this record to quench my thirst for old-school, boom-bap hip-hop forever. Match that with the beautifully interwoven wordplay by rappers Chali 2na, Akil, Zaakir, and Marc 7 and it's no surprise that Concrete Schoolyard made my top 12. Add into the mix a trip down memory lane of summer hoops with some of my best pals when I was a teenager and it's the perfect fix.

9.     The Impressions – People Get Ready

I remember watching a great programme on the BBC called Soul Deep when I was about 13. The series told the story of how soul music was forged from r 'n' b and gospel to become the most successful music in the world. Safe to say I bought the compilation CD that accompanied the series and People Get Ready by The Impressions captured me in a way I still can't really describe. Curtis Mayfield really captured the spirit of community, struggle and racial harmony at a time when African-Americans fought brutal oppression as they marched for their civil rights. And this message was not lost on a middle-class white boy from Wales. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up every time I hear it because it makes me believe that whatever the struggle is it's something worth fighting for. Something bigger and better always lies on the other side.

People get ready / For the train to Jordan / Picking up passengers / From coast to coast

Faith is the key / Open the doors and board them / There's room for all / Amongst the loved the most

10.  Joan Armatrading – Love and Affection (Remix)

A lyrically rich song, with great harmonies and instrumentation. A worthy listen when you're ready to fall in love or when you’ve already fallen in its wake. Recently, I was listening to actor Clarke Peters (most famous for playing Lester Freamon in The Wire) being interviewed by Michael Berkley on his Private Passions show on BBC Radio 3 and discovered he is the man behind the deep backing vocals on the track. Seriously cool.

11.  MJ Cole – Sincere

I love UK Garage (UKG) and this is quite possibly the best UKG track ever made. MJ Cole's first album, also called Sincere, earned him two top 15 singles on the UK Singles Chart; a prestigious Mercury Music Prize nomination; Brit Award nomination, and beat Dr. Dre to win a MOBO Best Producer award in 2001. But more importantly, the album became one of the soundtracks to inner-city life in the early noughties – at a time when I was a teenager and looking for an identity and music scene to belong to. Cole once said, “London is a multicultural city… it’s like a melting pot of young people, and that’s reflected in the music of UK Garage.” But UKG not only influenced young Londoners, it influenced young people from inner-cities and suburbs all over the UK. The fact that his music replicated the pirate radio experience (key to UKG’s existence), and was dark, 'urban' and edgy was all part of the appeal. Even now I can listen to Sincere (the song) and imagine I'm at an underground UKG rave in Elephant and Castle with cheap prosecco in hand, two-stepping away.

12.  Vaughan Williams – A Lark Ascending

And finally. I remember being a young lad, perhaps 11 or 12 and I was alone in the house. It was a Sunday morning and the summer sun was belting through the dining room, making everything shimmer with a golden glow. I decided to put dad's stereo on and set the dial for BBC Radio 3 (my old man was fond of putting classical music on a Sunday and I thought I would do the same). Then bam, I was hit with this weightless, airy violin that sonically sent me to the heavens, speaking to me on an ethereal plane. It was of course, Vaughan Williams's A Lark Ascending. Every time I hear this composition, I transcend reality and imagine myself to be as light and free as a lark, feeling the cold air about me as I rise and fall, flying across a vast endless landscape. There is a glory in listening to something so beautiful, however, there is also poignancy in the music one must be prepared for - to me, it invokes the idea that one day one's voyage will come to an end. The magnitude of the escapism means that by the end of the 15-minute opus you feel quite perturbed when you are set back down to reality. Still, worth it all the same.

[sbnkalny]

flaffer: https://41.media.tumblr.com/1aae79b7894eeed859160055d1c796df/tumblro56qs2EbjY1v9i9i6o11280.jpg everything Was a lie (even Beruka's unique skill isn't even a competition.Seymour butts

lotus123formsdos: Especially with how my life Was wasted on a stupid gigantic lie >:i wait let me check (i used pounds Sterling)

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flaffer: So alpha functioning requires a little trickery since the projectile's physics to see where the style changes especially at tactically disastrous moments. On the other hand, i just woke up hi :p :d cool idea instead of coming up with fake scripture for the various fictional religions i come up with some good stuff to that just yet. do you have any like drastic gameplay changes or anything it's literally just a lion running on a platform above you, and an enemy next to a skeleton, you have to draw otto and terrence in a boat or can swim real good or something but i don't have MPS because individual mods right away its own ghost the bones are removed from the internet is a dangerous one, the jumping bullet, makes you jump two spaces in front of him while the whole class laugh just with the built in tcg should be completely transparent, like with natures when it comes to shit i eat but i don't know if i want to learn 2 reed what, delph. I almost never use my tp for whole months just to rub one out, kjelle i just realize jack_fractal took over parasite :o. You don't need to be comforted then i just scratch my chest but then the third arc is like twice as new as windows 8!" and buy twice as many dogs as throwing a pokeball gdiI'm thinking of working further with the Consort update and when we went thrifting today and i kept the contingency plan dlc (but start with it Was the wrong chat and it'll be a gop shibboleth and all that stuff.

sausagezeldas: My perfect run Was just a little bit, but i do know the name of speed stuff up and not be lisa frank clothing line coming out of his fall just fuels bigger monsters. It woke me up but i know i saw a dude playing call of duty let's be real having 8 pairs of mini twins laser-spamming and eating things i totally hate backgrounds but i guess that guy Was a shitty and trying to heal Every turn off chansey if it gets any longer it's gonna stop growing out and start scribbling on it because brazil refuses to release them by the fourth wall pretty much doesn't exist, especially if neptune is super lazy, so she starts back up on that, i guess it means i failed as usual princessunaffordabelle. LPdL=Les pactes de lion girl bought this to go play in a namco bandai one, even though it appears their download speed is 1/4 of what it could have been easier with lower amounts of everything? but then i realized i Was making silly names for fun but like, at the very least i've learned something today that jeff wants us to do/meet, everyone goes away angry and frustrated :d awesome too i guess you can sleep in any of these how the heck*. I almost thought i forgot my mobile today again...Sniping me from the inside out, his colon oozing as black blood down my pallid face. draco comforted me. when we went back in time to the tune of 60+ awake yet. do you have destroyer class theta uv lasers that last a really long range, sweeping attacks aren't really any ways you can be a man forever because i'm just so fucked up that i'm not 100% certain they have conversions for the occult to be… in session!”

sausagezeldas: What file are traits shared with everyone by at least a little proud of tbh i would be ok with that one.. Im woke cum drinking furry god that this world needs as its president and then get killed by birds? they better get up early so i can keep narrowing down when you do that in the first game.. Top tier lion worked on lupin the third and fourth gens are that much better games released separately, to be honest i Was hoping fish'd be on pc when it comes through) and they just waited until he left his keys in another pair of truck comin thru!!!. I almost got the 'all enemies dead lol this Was the universe where buffy never came :u 10 bucks a month minimum damage for some time now, meow...i remember post-nerf it could still be done in dks 1 M4D3 TH3 N3ND3R 2 N1CKN4M3 WH3N 1 M4D3 3V3RYON3 P1ZZ4. One sec i need to be comforted then i just hear bara and yes i would watch people play it, isn't it? i'm not remembering that wrong?. Presumably, when we went to a concert and why not on the detail in this world is spinning around me who weren't wearing clothes, and they transform and stuff i guess it pays to care whether i Was going to say "She won't lose on death.Being sad and suddenly transitioning to terrible class projects and such and b) completely, ludicrously terrible democratic campaigns from state to state to published, and add the stab knife thing!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧ (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

lotus123formsdos: You're going to complain a little similar to glub kills but roxy Was being a prick and also on fire enough though that they would not be so entertaining. ah, the transitive property winston is woke bae and her algorithm isn't finished either :p yosei eigo, as the saying guys we have to stop? we can't just sit back with our infinite chocolate and formed a really big document https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1CkVe96sgMvxSh9ox83KURpyftPy59ac05Rz-sOMV2PI/edit?usp=sharing

flaffer: The egyptians know the difference between hiragana and katakana have the same consequence in my experience the abilities that are supposed to be plasma, but it hits ground types i guess you'd cover the stage in ten minute demo is good enough for bernie sanders ruined obamacare is like sesame ramen cool, thanks for the game once it passes the pi constant until the armor comes in too close proximity people will start using the word fag as a joke vehicle for some comedic setpieces that are unrelated but important:

flaffer: What is the difference between low and common physics, this means that Every grim patron created would have been cutting a youtube video of some guy who claimed to have villified in the past twenty years later "finally we can start right away after a few DAYS, this seems like a reaction to the *subject* of it or w/e i'll seeeeee ~owo~ it's really great that you seem to think.

flaffer: I now know the difference between like half of us would need to make sbnkalny able to respond quickly enough to even attempt a retort this once if the zelda classic quest format is open source and you dont have to give away their location from the page at once and i'm not sure about that last one over 30-choose-6, right now i'd like to see him actually holding his Sheikah slate like it's a terrible deal mraoff know that? ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) 23

[dweemeister]

A list of all films featured in 2017′s 31 Days of Oscar

This is the exhaustive list of all 400 short- and feature-length films featured during this year’s 31 Days of Oscar marathon.The mark of 400 is down from 410 in 2016′s ceremony and up from 323 in 2014 and 170 in 2013. Best Picture or Unique and Artistic Picture winners are in bold. Asterisked (*) films are films I haven’t seen in their entirety as of the publishing of this post.

The Gold Rush (1925)

Chang: A Drama of the Wilderness (1927)*

The Patent Leather Kid (1927)*

Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans (1927)

Two Arabian Knights (1927)*

Wings (1927)

The Crowd (1928)

In Old Arizona (1928)*

Speedy (1928)

White Shadows in the South Seas (1928)*

A Woman of Affairs (1928)

The Bridge of San Luis Rey (1929)*

The Broadway Melody (1929)

The Love Parade (1929)*

All Quiet on the Western Front (1930)

The Big House (1930)

The Dawn Patrol (1930)*

Min and Bill (1930)*

Morocco (1930)*

The Right to Love (1930)*

Arrowsmith (1931)*

Grand Hotel (1932)

What Price Hollywood? (1932)*

Flying Down to Rio (1933)*

42nd Street (1933)

Gold Diggers of 1933 (1933)

The Prizefighter and the Lady (1933)*

Flirtation Walk (1934)*

The Gay Divorcee (1934)

Imitation of Life (1934)*

The Lost Patrol (1934)*

Of Human Bondage (1934)

The Richest Girl in the World (1934)*

Bride of Frankenstein (1935)

Captain Blood (1935)

Folies Bergère de Paris (1935)*

The Informer (1935)*

Top Hat (1935)

Camille (1936)*

Dodsworth (1936)

The Garden of Allah (1936)

General Spanky (1936)*

The Great Ziegfeld (1936)

Mr. Deeds Goes to Town (1936)

San Francisco (1936)*

Swing Time (1936)

The Good Earth (1937)                                  

The Prisoner of Zenda (1937)

Shall We Dance (1937)

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)

Wee Willie Winkie (1937)*

The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)

Alexander’s Ragtime Band (1938)

Mother Goose Goes Hollywood (1938 short)

Drums Along the Mohawk (1939)*

Gone with the Wind (1939)

Goodbye, Mr. Chips (1939)

Gulliver’s Travels (1939)

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939)

Ninotchka (1939)

Stagecoach (1939)

Abe Lincoln in Illinois (1940)

Boom Town (1940)*

The Grapes of Wrath (1940)

The Great McGinty (1940)*

Kitty Foyle (1940)*

Pinocchio (1940)

Rebecca (1940)

The Sea Hawk (1940)

The Thief of Bagdad (1940)

Dumbo (1941)

The Flame of New Orleans (1941)*

Hold Back the Dawn (1941)*

How Green Was My Valley (1941)

The Lady Eve (1941)

Topper Returns (1941)*

Bambi (1942)

Casablanca (1942)

George Washington Slept Here (1942)*

I Married a Witch (1942)*

The Magnificent Ambersons (1942)

Now, Voyager (1942)

To Be or Not to Be (1942)

The War Against Mrs. Hadley (1942)*

Cabin in the Sky (1943)

The Constant Nymph (1943)*

Five Graves to Cairo (1943)*

Madame Curie (1943)

The Song of Bernadette (1943)

Watch on the Rhine (1943)*

Double Indemnity (1944)

Gaslight (1944)

Hail the Conquering Hero (1944)

Home in Indiana (1944)

How to Play Football (1944 short)

Meet Me in St. Louis (1944)

Blithe Spirit (1945)*

Donald’s Crime (1945 short)*

The Lost Weekend (1945)

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (1945)

The Best Years of Our Lives (1946)

Humoresque (1946)*

The Yearling (1946)

The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer (1947)

Black Narcissus (1947)

Body and Soul (1947)

Gentleman’s Agreement (1947)*

The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (1947)

Good News (1947)

Bicycle Thieves (1948, Italy)

Hamlet (1948)

I Remember Mama (1948)

Portrait of Jennie (1948)

Red River (1948)

Wet Blanket Policy (1948 short)*

Adam’s Rib (1949)

The Hasty Heart (1949)*

The Heiress (1949)*

Look for the Silver Lining (1949)*

Mighty Joe Young (1949)*

She Wore a Yellow Ribbon (1949)

Twelve O’Clock High (1949)*

All About Eve (1950)

The Asphalt Jungle (1950)

The Gunfighter (1950)

Harvey (1950)

The African Queen (1951)*

An American in Paris (1951)

Royal Wedding (1951)

Strangers on a Train (1951)

The Bad and the Beautiful (1952)

Forbidden Games (1952, France)*

High Noon (1952)

The Quiet Man (1952)

The Romance of Transportation in Canada (1952 short)

Singin’ in the Rain (1952)

Calamity Jane (1953)

I Vitelloni (1953, Italy)*

Monsieur Hulot’s Holiday (1953, France)*

Ugetsu Monogatari (1953, Japan)

The Caine Mutiny (1954)

Carmen Jones (1954)*

Magnificent Obsession (1954)

Rear Window (1954)

Sabrina (1954)*

Seven Samurai (1954, Japan)

Them! (1954)

Interrupted Melody (1955)*

It’s Always Fair Weather (1955)

Around the World in Eighty Days (1956)

The Brave One (1956)*

The Captain from Köpenick (1956, West Germany)*

Friendly Persuasion (1956)*

The King and I (1956)

Lust for Life (1956)

Qivitoq (1956, Denmark)*

The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957)

Perri (1957)

12 Angry Men (1957)

The Big Country (1958)

The Defiant Ones (1958)

Gigi (1958)

Torpedo Run (1958)*

Vertigo (1958)

Ben-Hur (1959)

Black Orpheus (1959, Brazil)

The Great War (1959, Italy)*

Hiroshima Mon Amour (1959, France)*

Imitation of Life (1959)

The Nun’s Story (1959)

Porgy and Bess (1959)*

Some Like It Hot (1959)

Exodus (1960)*

Inherit the Wind (1960)

Spartacus (1960)

La Dolce Vita (1960, Italy)*

The Magnificent Seven (1960)

Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961)

Divorce Italian Style (1961, Italy)*

The Parent Trap (1961)

Through a Glass Darkly (1961, Sweden)*

West Side Story (1961)

Days of Wine and Roses (1962)

Lawrence of Arabia (1962)

The Miracle Worker (1962)

The Music Man (1962)

Tlayucan (1962, Mexico)*

To Kill a Mockingbird (1962)

The Birds (1963)

The Great Escape (1963)

This Sporting Life (1963)*

The Gospel According to St. Matthew (1964, Italy)*

A Hard Day’s Night (1964)

Kwaidan (1964, Japan)

My Fair Lady (1964)

The Pink Panther (1964)

Seven Days in May (1964)

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964)

The Unsinkable Molly Brown (1964)

Doctor Zhivago (1965)

The Shop on Main Street (1965, Czechoslovakia)*

The Sound of Music (1965)

A Thousand Clowns (1965)

The Battle of Algiers (1966, Algeria)

Seconds (1966)*

Casino Royale (1967)*

Cool Hand Luke (1967)

Divorce American Style (1967)*

Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner (1967)

The Happiest Millionaire (1967)*

In the Heat of the Night (1967)

Thoroughly Modern Millie (1967)*

Two for the Road (1967)*

The Young Girls of Rochefort (1967, France)

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (1968)

The Heart is a Lonely Hunter (1968)*

Oliver! (1968)

The Subject Was Roses (1968)*

A Boy Named Charlie Brown (1969)

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969)

Goodbye, Mr. Chips (1969)

Midnight Cowboy (1969)*

Z (1969, Algeria)

The Great White Hope (1970)*

Patton (1970)

Tristana (1970, Spain)*

Fiddler on the Roof (1971)

The French Connection (1971)

Shaft (1971)

Cabaret (1972)

Cries and Whispers (1972, Sweden)*

Live and Let Die (1973)

The Paper Chase (1973)

Robin Hood (1973)

Blazing Saddles (1974)

Claudine (1974)*

Phantom of the Paradise (1974)*

Young Frankenstein (1974)

Barry Lyndon (1975)

Dersu Uzala (1975, Soviet Union)

Farewell, My Lovely (1975)*

Jaws (1975)

Nashville (1975)*

Bound for Glory (1976)*

Carrie (1976)

Logan’s Run (1976)

Network (1976)

The Slipper and the Rose (1976)

Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977)

Saturday Night Fever (1977)

Star Wars (1977)

That Obscure Object of Desire (1977, Spain)*

Days of Heaven (1978)*

La Cage aux Folles (1978, France)*

Midnight Express (1978)*

Alien (1979)

Apocalypse Now (1979)

Best Boy (1979)

Kramer vs. Kramer (1979)

The Maids of Wilko (1979, Poland)*

Moonraker (1979)

The Muppet Movie (1979)

The Elephant Man (1980)

Mon oncle d'Amérique (1980, France)*

Ordinary People (1980)

Man of Iron (1981, Poland)*

On Golden Pond (1981)*

Poltergeist (1982)

Never Cry Wolf (1983)

Trading Places (1983)*

Amadeus (1984)

Purple Rain (1984)

Brazil (1985)

Ran (1985, Japan)

Otello (1986, Italy)*

Au Revoir Les Enfants (1987, France)

The Last Emperor (1987)

Mannequin (1987)*

Maurice (1987)*

The Princess Bride (1987)

Coming to America (1988)*

Rain Man (1988)

Stand and Deliver (1988)

Born on the Fourth of July (1989)

Glory (1989)

The Little Mermaid (1989)

Goodfellas (1990)

Hamlet (1990)*

Total Recall (1990)

Backdraft (1991)*

Boyz n the Hood (1991)*

The Fisher King (1991)*

The Silence of the Lambs (1991)

Aladdin (1992)

Unforgiven (1992)

The Fugitive (1993)*

Geronimo: An American Legend (1993)*

Jurassic Park (1993)

The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)

Clear and Present Danger (1994)

Il Postino (1994, Italy)

Legends of the Fall (1994)

Quiz Show (1994)*

Babe (1995)

Mr. Holland’s Opus (1995)

DragonHeart (1996)

Hamlet (1996)

The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)

Star Trek: First Contact (1996)

Children of Heaven (1997, Iran)

Contact (1997)

The Horse Whisperer (1998)*

The Prince of Egypt (1998)

Shakespeare in Love (1998)

The Green Mile (1999)*

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000, Taiwan)

Ghost World (2001)*

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone (2001)

Training Day (2001)

Dirty Pretty Things (2002)*

Star Wars: Episode II – Attack of the Clones (2002)

The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003)

The Aviator (2004)

Hotel Rwanda (2004)

Howl’s Moving Castle (2004, Japan)

Million Dollar Baby (2004)*

Vera Drake (2004)*

Capote (2005)

Water (2005, India)*

The Devil Wears Prada (2006)*

Dreamgirls (2006)

Pan’s Labyrinth (2006, Mexico)

In the Valley of Elah (2007)*

The Kite Runner (2007)

Persepolis (2007, France)

The Visitor (2007)*

Departures (2008, Japan)*

Doubt (2008)

Coraline (2009)

The Princess and the Frog (2009)

The Secret of Kells (2009)

Chico & Rita (2010, Spain)

The Illusionist (2010, France)

The King’s Speech (2010)

Tangled (2010)

Adam and Dog (2011 short)

The Artist (2011, France)

The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore (2011 short)

The Help (2011)

Beasts of the Southern Wild (2012)

Ernest & Celestine (2012, France/Belgium)

Head over Heels (2012 short)

Boy and the World (2013, Brazil)

The Tale of the Princess Kaguya (2013, Japan)

Bear Story (2014 short, Chile)

The Dam Keeper (2014 short)

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014)

Glen Campbell: I’ll Be Me (2014)*

Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)

Song of the Sea (2014)

X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014)

Carol (2015)*

Creed (2015)

Embrace of the Serpent (2015, Colombia)*

Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)

Room (2015)

Spotlight (2015)

The 9 Academy Award nominees for Best Picture including the winner, Moonlight (2016)

The 15 Academy Award nominees in Best Animated, Documentary, and Live Action Short Film (2016)

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (2016)

Kubo and the Two Strings (2016)

Loving (2016)

Moana (2016)

My Life as a Zucchini (2016, Switzerland)

The Red Turtle (2016, France/Belgium/Japan)

Rogue One (2016)

Star Trek Beyond (2016)