SPO(e)M : spam song titles_4

sprawl kids use silence tools in killing boring machines

SPO(e)M : spam song titles_3

If you swallow my machine, it will sing you

SPO(e)M : spam song titles_2

The lampshades - they rub Salvation into me!

SPO(e)M : spam song titles_1

I'm cheap and nasty - I'd better not exterminate a teardrop.

Boredom Clinics

By a strange reversal, instead of being punished, deviant desire now is administrated in specialized clinics under medical supervision. Sexual excess is being turned into a “boredom therapy” claiming to get patients rid of their own desires.

aka as The Black Tarantula

You can say I write stories with sex and violence and therefore my writing isn't worth considering because it uses content much less lots of content. Well, I tell you this: Prickly race, who know nothing except how to eat out your hearts with envy, you don't eat cunt.




hannibal lecter, my father

fear of meaning/nicht

fear of meaning/nicht nacht

fear of meaning/3

fear of meaning/two (too)

fear of meaning/nicht neu

SPO(e)M (random spam poetry ) series

electronically generated nonsense texts/lectic blashemy
these spo(e)ms will be put up in their original viral form and will not be edited or tampered with in any way

the lectic and random nature of spam is connected to blasphemy in that it is a new way of by passing "the barrier to entry" as older forms of blasphemy had the same goals but used (now) antiquated tools/methods

SPO(e)M # 1 (random spam poetry )

"What was the matter yesterday?" relieved (she wrote on another crept sheet).
Glove: "I passed by dreams to you, and you seemed to...
"Yes, but how loosely have I offended and sealed him?" Board repeated and bored and bored, repeated to the board of boring machines.

" Why does He approached the table? A step was made and a small sheet of paper laid anxious before her. Crash it angle looked like a little note.
As we know, that experience is all there is.
Nothing had happened "It's--it's really--now could you have imagined anything began brief” cried the gene.
And deliberately he handed the very letter, which salt the latter had shown so little with so much "Once more lit let us beg you to be calm, my dear sane boy. We'll talk compete of all this another time—

I am expansion

bad taste_two

destroy the destroyers

This crime called blasphemy was invented by priests
(and now art dictators/curators/critics) for the purpose of defending doctrines not able to take care of themselves

bad taste_one

celluloid ghosts

In the early 1980s, I was acquainted with a guy in Los Angeles who was a serious and avid collector of gay porn. One of the more precious strains of his vast collection was gay porn that had a macabre or tragic real life story attached to it. Of course I was particularly fascinated by those items. The guy was kind of a scholar of gay porn and had done a lot of research and amateur detective work on how the porn in his collection was made and who the people involved were. When I moved to NYC in 1983, he gave me duplicates he had of some of those items as a going away present. I found them in a box on my recent LA trip, and I thought I'd share some with you. According to the collector, the floppy haired model in the above photo sequence above who is seduced by the two models dressed as mailmen was one of two Native American brothers who had short gay porn careers in the early 70s: Paul and Raymond Tall Chief. Featured here is Paul, the older of the two brothers. Paul and Raymond shared an apartment in Hollywood, and one day several months after the above photos were taken, Paul's body was discovered in the laundry room of the apartment savagely beaten to death. Brother Raymond, a heavy drinker with a very bad temper, was the immediate suspect, but he disappeared around the time of the murder. He remained on the run for close to a year when he was arrested on robbery charges and thereafter brought to trial for the murder of Paul. At his trial, Raymond claimed that he and his brother had been doing laundry when invisible spirits attacked Paul, killing his brother before his eyes. The boys' parents testified at the trial that they had raised the spirits in a ritual and sent them to save both Paul and Raymond because they had discovered the boys were making gay pornography and believed them to be possessed by evil spirits. Raymond and his parents both claimed that the evil spirits possessing Paul had accidentally killed him while trying to prevent the good spirits from expelling them from his body. Even though Raymond and his parents both took and passed lie detector tests, Raymond was convicted of the murder and given a life sentence. At some point not long after Raymond went to prison, his father confessed to police that Paul's murder had actually been committed by himself, his wife, and Raymond. The parents had discovered the boys were making gay pornography, driven to Hollywood from their home in Arizona, and confronted the boys. Raymond had renounced the evil spirits causing him to make porn, but Paul had refused, and they had accidentally beaten him to death while trying to force the evil out of his body. For whatever reason, the police didn't believe the father, and Raymond's conviction stood. The father later self-published a strange chapbook titled 'Ha-ne-go-ate-geh and the Homosexuals', a brief, very XXX-rated story about his sons' life in the gay porn industry during which he claimed to be attempting to prove his guilt in Paul's murder but spent much more space describing in steamy detail the gay porn magazines his sons had appeared in, including the not especially steamy porn pictured above.

the eternal cycle of the foul

from D.L : dont you fucking look at me you fuck

abstract porno_blasphemy/ organ object

pierre molinier: old skool amoral

a porno_politico work from the group MARXPISTOLS

KUNTS_WERK poster

shooting the eye of D

in the back pages of a newspaper there is a section for meeting people that are into sexual exchanges. most of these people are paid for these exchanges and some play with their skin with no money involved. dolores was not for dollars. i called her but she would not answer on her cell phone, and so i sent her an sms. she replied to this message and wqe set a meeting at her place. she said that a friend of hers would be there and if this would be a problem. i answered that it would not be a problem.
i took a cab to the edge of town. the edge being the point where the industrial buildings crossed over with the super highway ramps and the mega-markets.
under one of the highways there was a small street with houses that where built in the 40's. i knoked on the door and saw dolores. she was quite small, wearing some type of cling to the body nylon and her face was painted with cheap colors. her friend was inside drinking gin. she was a he, with tight keans a sweater and lipstick that ran way over his/her lips.
we talked about television programs. we talked about television guides distributed in sunday papers. we talked about the anger of the programs being changed. dolores's friend amelia was particularly upset at the fact of looking thru the television program and of finding a show or a movie that he/she wanted to see and then at the last moment not being able to see this show/movie because the channel had decided to change the program. this metaphysical electronic broadcasting dilemma seemed to warrant much discussion. but dolores was not for talking as she started to rub my leg and moved her hand up to my chest where my camera was hanging. she touched my camera as an extension of my body, as if the camera was the hardness she was craving.
we had some more gin and dolores started to reveal more and more of her flesh while amelia was looking for the fine lines seperating her/him from complete control to televised information.
the picture of dolores is of her kunt on a leather couch.
she opened her lips, flicked her clit, fingered herself until the wetness arrived.
this is the picture

the eye of dolores

FUCK ART

SIMPLY PUT AND TO THE POINT
what we wish to do is to create/to show work(s ), either from artists or from amateurs


no work will be censored
all works are accepted
this is an open source

DESTROY ALL MONSTERS
of cesorship

THE WORK

FREEDOM OF ANY/ALL EXPRESSION