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27 septembre conversation with me 1Jase One: I have thirteen nipples.
Jase Two: Lies.
Jase One: No really. I'm from the future, and in the future we have as many nipples as we desire.
Jase Two: Thas WHACK.
Jase One: Excuse me?
Jase Two: Mang you way wayyy off sucka. Future aint no shit to me, brudda.
Jase One: I see. You are speaking a non-standard form of English. In the future, we speak an ultra-standardized English called Anal Prose v.9.
Jase Two: ...shiet.
Jase One: Indeed.
*awkward silence*
Jase Two: So like, can I see em nipz?
Jase One: I suppose so. It is rare moment in the course of history when humanity has the opportunity to glimpse into an aspect of the future.
Jase Two: Thas trench, yo, real trench.
Jase One: *slowly unbuttons fiberoptic Hawaiian shirt*
Jase Two: Suhweee - OOH MY GOOD CHRIST OH JEZUZ YOU GOTS THIRTEEN MOTHAFUCKIN NIPPLES MANG OH SNAP!
Jase One: Behold, the future.
*room is flooded in white light, then slowly fades to black*
11 juin robot hookers in loveVeronica: I'm a really whiny cunt about everything
Robot: I know.
Veronica: But some things I just really need. Like fucking. I've just got to to fuck. And no one ever wants to fuck, I swear. Am I made out of plutonium or something? Jesus Christ.
Robot: Maybe you should consider shaving your fotch.
Veronica: Maybe you should consider eating my pissflaps. Anyways. What's the point of loving somebody if you never fuck them?
Robort: You are being very immature about this.
Veronica: If you don't shut up and listen, I swear I will staple your stupid saggy scrotum to your forehead, okay?
Robert: Whatever.
Veronica: Like I said, I'm like, totally in love with this person. And I'd totally do anything for them. But not fucking? That's like saying, 'Veronica, stop breathing. Go on with your life like a fucking sexless android.'
Robot: You know, I was built for situations like these.
Veronica: ...
Robot: Indeed. Behold, my special dildo function. Only for emergencies.
Veronica: It's not the same.
Robot: Robot heart...broken...fatal malfunction. Must kill.
Veronica: Graahhhh!!
Veronica was never seen again. Robot has reportedly fled the country.
11 mai salt city: bastion of cultureYeah so like...I was just thinkin. This place I live in is a total shitbox. But then I thought some more and I realized that, although it is a shitbox and a cuntlocale, it is also a bastion of subculture in this country's intestinal regions. I feel...so thankful...that I can live here and shake my ass to a big beat, though not as frequently as I would like and sometimes stupid fuckass bitches try to ruin it for me. But seriously. I am so lucky I live in this cumbucket lake valley...I'm so lucky I can go out in the fucking desert a couple times a year and sway and grind and scream and just be totally primal and in love with everything and nothing and pretend I'm in some fucking other place. Not many other penal communities such as mine can afford that kind of opportunity! I LOVE YOU SALT LAKE CITY. I love you...*shed tear* 9 mars gibbon poopWhile I was working a corner the other night, I decided to establish the Committee for the Investigation of the Failure of Collective (CIFC) in order to determine why Collective failed and the lessons its members have learned from the experience. CIFC has just finished its investigation and has made the following conclusions:
a) The term "Collective" suggests than in order to form a successful discourse community, it required more than one entity. Though High Priestess Jase pointed out that Collective in fact consisted of three entities (Jase Himself, Jase's Fish Tacos, and Internal Asian Meat Toys Inc.), CIFC makes the characterization of 'entity' as meaning individual persons capable of contributing diverse ideas to the community.
b) "Collective" was just a shitty name.
c) Collective's goals were not sufficiently clear. It could even be said that Collective was just a stupid druggy who had no goals and should get off his ass and go to school if he has any hope of getting his shit together, mister. Your mother and I didn't waste 20 years of our lives just so you could jack off in one giant K-hole your entire life.
These revelations were quite alarming and have spurred me to rethink the way I form future discourse organizations. And now the fruit of my reconsideration: The Salt Lake Institute for Planetary Reintegration and Realization of the Female Component as the Essence of Being (SLIPRRFCEB pronounced slip-ref-seb), now accepting members!
6 mars compleanno nell'infernoI am now 20, glorious 20, the greatest and most round of numbers. 20! Shout it from the mountain tops and whisper it in the ear of every sleeping babe! May there be hope for all other degenerate Asian boys, that they may make it to 20, without shooting a Polynesian gang member, or stealing a car, or knocking up some white bitch! Follow me, wayward youth, and you will find 20 unscathed! 25 février uffing pop tartAs with most drug-induced endevours, Jesus & the Alien Treasure was immediately forgotten the next day and therefore has been dissolved until an undertermined time in the future, probably after I'm dead. Probably after we're both dead, you and I.
It's probably nothing you want to know, but I'm going to say it anyway. I love you. No, really, I do. No I don't. I hate you. No, I don't even know you, so how could I hate you? How could I feel any way about you? I suppose what I'm trying to do is acknowledge this thing we have between us, reader and writer. It's insubstantial, but delicious, so let's celebrate it. Or you could just fuck off. Fudgepacker. 15 janvier jesus & the alien treasureAnnouncing the formation of my new band, Jesus & The Alien Treasure, whos purpose is to explore the creative possibilites of a character invented by me, myself, Jase, who plays the part of Jesus.
The character comes from an alternate plane devoid of all sexual existence. The beings who reside there have no mouths, no vaginas, no penises, no anuses, no hair, no skin, no gonads. Nothing that would delineate them as beings reliant on procreation or sexual satisfaction. They are balls of raw, prepubescent emotion. One day, while one of these emotibeings is meditating (as emotibeings often do), it suddenly emerges into what has been assumed by many of us to be 'reality.' 'It' becomes 'Jesus.' Although he has now assumed the form and identification system of a human, he only has the capacity to think in the terms of a limited emotional lexicon ranging from deep asexual caring to pure hate, and so must face the challenges of a world brimming with visible and invisible, acknowledged and unacknowledged libidinal energy and its gendered social and biological constructs as well as the restrictions and possibilities of the human anatomy. 5 octobre tornado esta terminadoUnfortunately, Collective has desolved. Someone decided it was more important to masturbate twice a day than to expand his creative mind for the advancement of society. That someone is me. 29 septembre associateWelcome, patriots, comrades, or whatever. I needed to blow off some steam tonight, and in doing so, I believe I have started something wonderful. You see, I'm a very, very angry person and I know a lot of other people around me are angry, too. We are pissed about the serious deterioration not only of our own prospects, but the lives of others who are suffering under a mounting story of injustice. Yessir, the world is being disassembled piece by piece in front of us. We, the young, the poor, and the culturally marginalized are being driven into the mud by the authority to drive all authorities, and that makes me and a whole gaggle of my peers pretty fucking mad.
We're happy to be mad, too, and very proud to say so. But tonight, as I was thinking (as I sometimes do), I contemplated the ineptness of our culture, the culture that is supposed to belong to us, the people. The truth is, honeys, its not ours at all. It's been hijacked. It no longer responds to us but controls us. Do you realize how dangerous that is? Many of us no longer think for ourselves or do not care to. This is an important fact that must be confronted if there is to be a future world moving towards balance.
Therefore, I am pleased to announce the creation of Collective, an organization of writers, artists, and other mediamakers whos ultimate goal is to take our culture back from the capitalist pissant generation. Huzzah. Let the expression commence. 19 septembre una lettera di amore a psycheThis moment is speeding towards us. It is a future memory. Don't fight it. Listen...repeat after me. 'I'm going to let go. I trust what's coming.'
I will be so close to you. The hairs on our skin will brush past each other, without touching. Will you feel it? Yes. Your eyelids will flutter. Your lips will part, gently. 'What are you dreaming of? What do you taste?' If it's pain, don't struggle. It's meant to be enjoyed. Stay unconscious, I'll heal you. My fingers will softly sculpt your flesh, loving it. It's been a long time, but you are still young and wet. Render it to me. I will walk inside of you. I will extract the secrets you buried there. Don't fight it, honey. 16 septembre spectral poop sheetGuess what, honey? You're in my headspace. You - are - the - occupier. You've got my flow all slippery like silicone; bean-shaped. Oh, darling. Darling, baby! My body, it's so...onion-like, so problematic! Reality is shifting, shiftng, shifting; half of what it was, twice what it should be. Who else could make me spout sparks like a fucking roman candle? Hot fragments, young and dark, what joy. This trickling is genius. These bones are tricky and all golden fried. Each - new - line - brings me up to the luminous points, oscillating ecstaticly, connected with thin strands, trembling.
Oh, sweetie! You're buzzing! Your plastic image is the seductive kind. Talk to me, love, and send yourself to me, every nerve and nerve receptor. If only my arms were sea turtles...they would be with you, armored and ancient. My heart... 23 août on versus and futureSpeaking of drugs, I have recently been immersed in the news of the bust at Versus 2 (which I did not attend. With the advent of our trip to Hawai'i and later puppy Echo, I made the decision to abstain from raving for the remainder of August and the whole of September). I will not pretend to have any strong philosophical or political opinions about the drugs inherant in the party scene or whether the raid was reasonably justified.
However, I do hold to the belief that the force shown by the state and federal SWAT team was excessive, and that all the forms of violence used therein should not have been options at any point during the raid. Police brutality is rampant throughout this country; the threshold for the use of force (even less, reasonable force) has always been too low for a country that prides itself for its benevolent restraint and its contempt towards despotism and Stalinist communism.
Secondly, I profess my utter devotion and love for dance music; the way it makes me feel and move; how it puts me into the social context of other people with a passion; and its deep and ornate power to express. "The scene" is only one entity within "the music," yet for all its anger and bitchiness and mean spirit, it is a powerful vehicle for discovery and appreciation. The situation at Versus is a turning point in the story of the this culture in the United States, and unquestionably so in Utah, because it has the power to cripple an already troubled scene of legally legitimate parties.
It is hard to imagine promoters being forced into ultra-legal formats, as some have suggested. The highly inaccurate and unflattering public conception of "rave culture" has limited legit parties to only a few venues, as can be seen by the cancellation of the Olympic Oval as a venue for Amplified 3 early this month. The promoters of most recent parties have had no other option than to hold them either at Club Sound. And with Versus and other past parties as precedents, legally rented private properties used as outdoor venues are as vulnerable to police attack as illegal underground venues.
It is equally difficult to see raves sent underground, as they were in the 80s and 90s. Increasing safety awareness among many party-goers and their desire for legal freedom and acceptance go against such moves. Unauthorized raves are largely considered things of the past, though some undoubtedly still occur. The trend towards legally operated club venues has ballooned in cities across the country, even in the strongholds of warehouse-heavy cities in the Rust Belt and the urban South.
Anything is possible, however. Counter-cultures have a way of surviving oppression. They also have a way of emerging into the mainstream. The path is uncertain, and all I can hope for and believe in is the endurance of the music that I love. 21 août comparative mythological systemsRoot. Alter. Psychosis. Organization. Profit. Deteriorate. Literature. Extremity. Classicist. Permissive. Shift. Stimulant. Offense. Convention. Fraud. 18 juin suck the hidden slugIn the past few months, I've felt a certain kind of contentment, at once both serene and ecstatic. I've contemplated the suburban house as a virtual cunt. Clit, vagina, uterus; exciting, secretive, domestic. I've opened my eyes to the simple truths encapsulated within buttered egg noodles and parmesan. I died, was resurrected, died again, and then was reborn completely into a new bureaucracy of love and compromise, and since then have drained my cock of its virile and evil power, its ecstasy and crack. I am a man realized as an intermediary piece of the larger social and biological fabric of the Salt Lake City Metropolitan Statistical Area. Galaxies are aligning in impossible patterns! Interspecies copulation is commencing! Spread...!...the breasts. 23 mai bound, cave, discover.The other day I was contemplating my position within the architectural world and I thought, well, bollocks, what am I doing it for? I had an answer to that question, of course. I wanted to design buildings. But why? I got to thinking. I was like, when a person walks into a building I've designed, I want something to happen in their brains. There's a memory in the collective subconscious of humanity; a memory of architecture and its place in the genesis and continuation of civilization. I want that deep, primordial thought to come to the forefront for contemplation; of architecture, and thus the story of humanity itself. And then I thought to myself, thats all bullshit, go fuck yourself. 16 mai engineers have discovered that...Micro-balloons are breaking as they pass through the nozzle. As they pass through the dispensing components of the hardware, damaged tiles filled with goo are assembled during off hours. The full front edge is an aerodynamic boiler. Thats what has driven me to have the daily think tank that doesn't rely solely on the goo. |
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