Archive for June, 2011
Rat head biters is an insult somewhere in Europe. There is a great 3D sailing film from the fifties called Windjammer. My Saturday night ride home was fifteen minutes long but full of insight from a retired Russian cab driver. He said we remember when others cause us pain, and forget the pain we inflict on others. He said that human beings are good at this trick of memory.
From a note I typed into my phone before seeing the film Le Quattro Volte (summary: old man dies and becomes baby goat, baby goat dies and becomes tall tree, tall tree gets cut down for village ceremony) at the Music Box: Immediately after I unwrapped my straw I dropped it on the filthy floor and began to search for it desperately in the dark, feeling with my hands. Found kernels and contemplated eating popcorn from the floor. Probably my popcorn anyway, fell out of the corners of my mouth as I crammed it in. It was a free bag of popcorn, the result of the woman in front of me in line’s BOGO free bag. She enthusiastically insisted I accept it and a medium pop. I never found that straw.
Here we have a tombstone, or in some cases, it could just be a monument commemorating something that happened during a king’s reign. Everything about this to me was anti the 1950s, was anti the bourgeois culture of that period, because it’s like mystic images, cryptic signs. Here we have a rapacious falcon or hawk, which to me I always identify very strongly with carnivorous types of animals. I’m the type of dominating, aggressive woman who was totally out of sync with culture at that time. The thing is, I suppose one could say, it has a hard phallic quality. The monumentality of Egyptian culture, its imperialistic statements, its assertiveness, attracted me enormously. Plus the idea of cryptic signs and so on, I’ve always been fascinated by visual emblems. I find an exact correlation between something like this, which I could not have understood as a child, and advertisements of the period. I couldn’t read, as a small child, but I saw the images, and people doing strange things. People holding a box, and holding a box out like this, which later I could read. Tide, soap, something like that. So I felt that since as early as childhood that advertisements were never something that were just popular culture, not to be taken seriously, but rather, right from the beginning, I saw that there was a connection between ancient Pagan culture and the popular culture all around me, which my parents would not take seriously. My parents were very much against commercialism, advertisements and so on. I had a kind of stubborn interest in the cryptic signs of advertisement. So for me the Egyptian hieroglyphics and advertisement are in the same line, and its true. As I went on, I learned that the great pharoahs were advertising themselves. That’s what they were doing. I am the greatest. I am the most fabulous. What they have done, five thousand years later, we’re still reading their signs. -Camille Paglia
I have large breasts, and America is obsessed with large breasts. I know it when I walk down the street every day. But anyway, I say it’s not the size of your tits that counts, it’s how you use them. People take tits so seriously. I like to have fun with my tits. I’m into tit art. -Annie Sprinkle
-from the 1992 documentary, Female Misbehavior, four short films directed by Monika Treut
I started smoking pot again. I am eating parts of whole animals and drinking chocolate. I am working ten hour days five times a week. I am staying friends with my ex-girlfriend.
The contents of my fridge:
1 oz. Asado Siesta coffee
3+ twelve packs of Diet Coke
opened, flat 1/2 liter Canada Dry club soda
9/11 bottle Valentina hot sauce
5/8 avocado and about fifteen corn tortillas wrapped in plastic
2 lbs cake scraps wrapped in plastic
3/5 of 1/2 gallon Prairie Farms 2% milk
8 1 week old deviled eggs
1/16 soy chorizo sausage
1 green apple
4/9 loaf of Bimbo whole wheat bread
1 dry, uncapped Tide stainlifting pen
2 cans Welch’s strawberry soda
Papa Rocco’s Hot Giardinia
2 small boxes strawberry Nerds
1/2 orange cat
A year ago I was walking in the woods in Winchendon with a woman who picked me wild Indian cucumbers to eat. There were some waterfalls. We went swimming. I made a wish then, and many times since. It was the same wish I made when she tied a bracelet around my wrist much later. And when the bracelet fell off, the wish came true: For it to happen as it happens, and for me to be OK with that.
Thank you Zoe for the new friendship bracelet, a haircut, the cat toys, clipping Roly Poly’s nails, for listening, being there, and rolling up my pants before I ran back into the water.