Wednesday, November 8, 2017

U.S.A! U.S.A.! vol 114 / Negation Aspiration vol. 77: Trump at 365 (Year of the Horde)

what is there to say?

25 years ago all i wanted was innumerable comic book movies all year round.

15 years ago all i wanted was for deranged cynicism and profuse mistrust to be the societal norm.

now, i want all of that to go the fuck home cause they're drunk and annoying and won't shut the fuck up about how awesome they are and they won't stop trying to grab my dick and steal my wallet and they get all warped and depressed when i point out their flaws and they tell me "well fuck you you never understood us to begin with" and you know what i'm starting to think "yeah maybe i never did".

we're a populous rapidly racing to outdo the ugliness of our supposed rivals. invariably combative for no reason other than to bukkake-spray kerosene on the already wild grease fires of political and cultural discourses. there is no winning and losing, only retreat and surrender, to wear so many bleeding hearts upon a closet of over-sized worn-thin sleeves that you start to resemble a Hellraiser victim or to costume genuine displacement with so many layered layers of meta-sincere post-irony (or meta-ironic post-sincerity) that even Mike Patton would be like "hey man be serious for a minute aight".

how boring and lame is all of this?

i'm gonna use some mallrock to sum it up:




Behold a new Christ 
Behold the same old horde 
Gather at the altering 
New beginning, new word 
 And the word was death 
And the word was without light 
The new beatitude: 
"Good luck, you're on your own" 

 Blessed are the fornicates 
May we bend down to be their whores 
Blessed are the rich 
May we labor, deliver them more 
 Blessed are the envious 
Bless the slothful, the wrathful, the vain 
Blessed are the gluttonous 
May they feast us to famine and war 

What of the pious, the pure of heart, the peaceful? 
What of the meek, the mourning, and the merciful? 
All doomed 

What of the righteous? 
What of the charitable? 
What of the truthful, the dutiful, the decent? 

 Doomed are the poor 
Doomed are the peaceful 
Doomed are the meek 
Doomed are the merciful 
 For the word is now death 
And the word is now without light 
The new beatitude: 
"Fuck the doomed, you're on your own"

Tuesday, November 7, 2017

U.S.A.! U.S.A.! VOL. 113

Trump did not create this anxiety nor this division. References to the civil war and the Klan illustrate for just how long white America has been riven by its sense of moral purpose and material privilege. What is new is that Trump has emboldened the bigots and channelled their thinking in a fashion not seen in modern times. A president who draws a moral equivalent between neo-Nazis and anti-fascist protesters, who baits black athletes and black journalists, brands Mexicans rapists and Muslims terrorists. 
 One of those to whom he has given confidence is Richard Spencer, the intellectually unimpressive, historically illiterate huckster who rallied the far right in Charlottesville. Spencer, who wants to create an “ethno-state” for white people, claims to have coined the term “alt-right” – a sanitised word for the extreme right. In July last year, Trump’s former chief strategist, Steve Bannon, boasted that his website Breitbart News was a “platform for the alt-right”.
When I encountered Spencer at Montgomery Bell park, he emerged carrying a glass of what smelled like bourbon and an entourage of adoring bigots soon surrounded me in the car park. More odious troll than eloquent polemicist, he claimed, among other things, that Africans had benefited from white supremacy and that, despite having been banned from 26 European countries, Europe would always be more his home than mine. “If Africans had never existed, world history would be almost exactly the same as it is today,” he claimed. “Because we are the genius that drives it.” Like a vulture preying on the anxiety, and with few alternatives on offer – as much as people cited Trump as the problem, few offered Democrats as the solution – he felt confident. 
“People are now aware of the term ‘alt-right’ … I don’t think Trump shares the ideal of the ethno-state … But he wouldn’t have run the campaign that he ran if he didn’t feel some sense of loss, that America has lost something,” he said.
 He felt he was gaining influence. This was one of the few accurate things he actually said. And by far the most chilling.

My travels in white America – a land of anxiety, division and pockets of pain

This summer,  took a trip from Maine to Mississippi to find out what has brought the US to this point. From the forgotten poor to desperate addicts, their whiteness is all some of them have left – and that makes fertile ground for the far right

Negation Aspiration vol. 76

What do we think society is? A relationship between people, perhaps, especially one characterised by a mutual interest in each other's well-being. Less abstractly, something manifested in institutions such as schools, hospitals, churches – the things that enable people, in general, to live lives that matter to them. It's the thing that – in favour of individuals and their families – Margaret Thatcher tried to deny. 
 But this is not necessarily what society is. Society isn't a relationship, mediated through institutions. Society is a thing – a living thing. Specifically, society as we know it is a vast sea monster. The English Civil War-era political theorist Thomas Hobbes called this monster the Leviathan. Tentacled, oozing, always hungry – the Leviathan holds us together not out of any higher, finer sentiments, but simply because it needs to extract value from us in order to grow. If we are to believe Hobbes, then in the earliest years of humanity our leaders signed a contract with this Leviathan, binding our wills to it in exchange for security – a sort of primal protection racket. And since then we have remained its servants: half-choked, sick things unable to realise our true nature beyond the monster's grasp.


What the Paradise Papers Tell Us About Our Screwed Up Society

Monday, November 6, 2017

Negation Aspiration vol. 75

Something is wrong on the internet

I’m James Bridle. I’m a writer and artist concerned with technology and culture. I usually write on my own blog, but frankly I don’t want what I’m talking about here anywhere near my own site. Please be advised: this essay describes disturbing things and links to disturbing graphic and video content. You don’t have to read it, and are advised to take caution exploring further.


Likewise, the case of the “Keep Calm and Rape A Lot” tshirts (along with the “Keep Calm and Knife Her” and “Keep Calm and Hit Her” ones) is depressing and distressing but comprehensible. Nobody set out to create these shirts: they just paired an unchecked list of verbs and pronouns with an online image generator. It’s quite possible that none of these shirts ever physically existed, were ever purchased or worn, and thus that no harm was done. Once again though, the people creating this content failed to notice, and neither did the distributor. They literally had no idea what they were doing.

This video, BURIED ALIVE Outdoor Playground Finger Family Song Nursery Rhymes Animation Education Learning Video, contains all of the elements we’ve covered above, and takes them to another level. Familiar characters, nursery tropes, keyword salad, full automation, violence, and the very stuff of kids’ worst dreams. And of course there are vast, vast numbers of these videos. Channel after channel after channel of similar content, churned out at the rate of hundreds of new videos every week. Industrialised nightmare production.

Thursday, October 26, 2017

We Are The Sprocket Holes vol. 332


Horror Franchises Impacted By Potential Weinstein Company Collapse

The Weinstein Company’s Dimension Films quietly put sequels to both Clive Barker‘s Hellraiser and Stephen King‘s Children of the Corn into production two years ago. It was done as a bid to retain the rights with allegedly no intention of a release. Us horror fans have suffered through this for decades now (with Inferno, Hellseeker, Deader, and Hellworld) and it’ll be interesting to see if both franchises will be freed from the grasp in the event of a bankruptcy...And what about the various films acquired and shelved that still haven’t seen the light of day, including the French horror Livide? [pictured above]


Thursday, October 19, 2017

We Are The Sprocket Holes vol. 331 (Umberto Lenzi: 1931 - 2017)

RIP Umberto Lenzi (1931-2017) http://www.repubblica.it/spettacoli/cinema/2017/10/19/news/morto_umberto_lenzi-178712510/

Awww Yeah vol. 68

Inside a Secretive Group Where Women Are Branded


Each woman was told to undress and lie on a massage table, while three others restrained her legs and shoulders. According to one of them, their “master,” a top Nxivm official named Lauren Salzman, instructed them to say: “Master, please brand me, it would be an honor.”...A female doctor proceeded to use a cauterizing device to sear a two-inch-square symbol below each woman’s hip, a procedure that took 20 to 30 minutes. For hours, muffled screams and the smell of burning tissue filled the room....Both Nxivm and Mr. Raniere, 57, have long attracted controversy. Former members have depicted him as a man who manipulated his adherents, had sex with them and urged women to follow near-starvation diets to achieve the type of physique he found appealing....State medical regulators also declined to act on a complaint filed against another Nxivm-affilated physician, Brandon Porter. Dr. Porter, as part of an “experiment,” showed women graphically violent film clips while a brain-wave machine and video camera recorded their reactions, according to two women who took part. The women said they were not warned that some of the clips were violent, including footage of four women being murdered and dismembered...She said it had been formed as a force for good, one that could grow into a network that could influence events like elections. To become effective, members had to overcome weaknesses that Mr. Raniere taught were common to women — an overemotional nature, a failure to keep promises and an embrace of the role of victim, according to Ms. Edmondson and other members....Submission and obedience would be used as tools to achieve those goals, several women said. The sisterhood would comprise circles, each led by a “master” who would recruit six “slaves,” according to two women. In time, they would recruit slaves of their own. “She made it sound like a bad-ass bitch boot camp,” Ms. Edmondson said......


Tuesday, October 10, 2017

Awwww Yeah vol. 65

Asia Argento, Who Accused Harvey Weinstein of Sexual Assault, Shares Scene From Her Film Inspired by His Alleged Actions

Argento, an actress born in Rome, played the role of a glamorous thief named Beatrice in the crime drama “B. Monkey,” which was released in the U.S. in 1999. The distributor was Miramax. In a series of long and often emotional interviews, Argento told me that Weinstein assaulted her while they worked together.
At the time, Argento was twenty-one and a rising actress who had twice won the Italian equivalent of the Oscar. Argento said that, in 1997, one of Weinstein’s producers invited her to what she understood to be a party thrown by Miramax at the Hôtel du Cap-Eden-Roc, on the French Riviera. Argento felt professionally obliged to attend. When the producer led her upstairs that evening, she said, there was no party—only a hotel room, empty but for Weinstein: “I’m, like, ‘Where is the fucking party?’ ” She recalled the producer telling her, “Oh, we got here too early,” before he left her alone with Weinstein. (The producer denies bringing Argento to the room that night.) At first, Weinstein was solicitous, praising her work. Then he left the room. When he returned, he was wearing a bathrobe and holding a bottle of lotion. “He asks me to give a massage. I was, like, ‘Look, man, I am no fucking fool,’ ” Argento said. “But, looking back, I am a fucking fool. And I am still trying to come to grips with what happened.”
Argento said that, after she reluctantly agreed to give Weinstein a massage, he pulled her skirt up, forced her legs apart, and performed oral sex on her as she repeatedly told him to stop. Weinstein “terrified me, and he was so big,” she said. “It wouldn’t stop. It was a nightmare.”
At some point, Argento said, she stopped saying no and feigned enjoyment, because she thought it was the only way the assault would end. “I was not willing,” she told me. “I said, ‘No, no, no.’ . . . It’s twisted. A big fat man wanting to eat you. It’s a scary fairy tale.” Argento, who insisted that she wanted to tell her story in all its complexity, said that she didn’t physically fight him off, something that has prompted years of guilt.
“The thing with being a victim is I felt responsible,” she said. “Because, if I were a strong woman, I would have kicked him in the balls and run away. But I didn’t. And so I felt responsible.” She described the incident as a “horrible trauma.” Decades later, she said, oral sex is still ruined for her. “I’ve been damaged,” she told me. “Just talking to you about it, my whole body is shaking.”
Argento recalled sitting on the bed after the incident, her clothes “in shambles,” her makeup smeared. She said that she told Weinstein, “I am not a whore,” and that he began laughing. He said he’d put the phrase on a T-shirt. Afterward, Argento said, “He kept contacting me.” For a few months, Weinstein seemed obsessed, offering her expensive gifts.
What complicates the story, Argento readily allowed, is that she eventually yielded to Weinstein’s further advances and even grew close to him. Weinstein dined with her, and introduced her to his mother. Argento told me, “He made it sound like he was my friend and he really appreciated me.” She said that she had consensual sexual relations with him multiple times over the course of the next five years, though she described the encounters as one-sided and “onanistic.” The first occasion, several months after the alleged assault, came before the release of “B. Monkey.” “I felt I had to,” she said. “Because I had the movie coming out and I didn’t want to anger him.” She believed that Weinstein would ruin her career if she didn’t comply. Years later, when she was a single mother dealing with childcare, Weinstein offered to pay for a nanny. She said that she felt “obliged” to submit to his sexual advances.
Argento said that she knew this contact would be used to attack the credibility of her allegation. In part, she said, the initial assault made her feel overpowered each time she encountered Weinstein, even years later. “Just his body, his presence, his face, bring me back to the little girl that I was when I was twenty-one,” she told me. “When I see him, it makes me feel little and stupid and weak.” She broke down as she struggled to explain. “After the rape, he won,” she said.
In 2000, Argento released “Scarlet Diva,” a movie that she wrote and directed. In the film, a heavyset producer corners the character of Anna, who is played by Argento, in a hotel room, asks her for a massage, and tries to assault her. After the movie came out, women began approaching Argento, saying that they recognized Weinstein’s behavior in the portrayal. “People would ask me about him because of the scene in the movie,” she said. Some recounted similar details to her: meetings and professional events moved to hotel rooms, bathrobes and massage requests, and, in one other case, forced oral sex.
Weinstein, according to Argento, saw the film after it was released in the U.S., and apparently recognized himself. “Ha, ha, very funny,” Argento remembered him saying to her. But he also said that he was “sorry for whatever happened.” The movie’s most significant departure from the real-life incident, Argento told me, was how the hotel-room scene ended. “In the movie I wrote,” she said, “I ran away.”

Monday, October 9, 2017

NERRRRRRRRRRD! vol. 63

the first 6 pages of DC Comics DOOMSDAY CLOCK

if you're unaware (and if you are, than i am truly envious), DOOMSDAY CLOCK is DC Comics dementedly absurd, obliviously vindictive attempt to drain more blood from the scabbed over gutters of a finite story that is 30 years beyond its conclusion.

a move both bottomless in its cynicism and labyrinthine in its desperation, DC is tying Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons seminal Watchmen into their already corpulent mainstream superhero multiverse, which has long since swapped out the imaginative speculation of its late 20th century inception for the stay-the-course brand synergy associated with any number of franchised mediocrities pocking the culture of this new century like holographic tombstones.

it's become amusing watching this Goliath of the industry fall flat on its face every time its attempted to spin Moore and Gibbons work into yet another overmarketed corporate product line, but it's also frustrating to see them swallow up all the attentive energies that could be directed toward something new and fresh.

check out Black Mask Studios or something. they got a book called Gravetrancers coming out that looks pretty nifty. or Avatar Press, who put our NEW works from Alan Moore that equal (and perhaps even eclipse) the work he's done for DC. even Image Comics has evolved leaps and bounds beyond where they were 25 years ago.

get over Marvel and DC brands aighty.

Sunday, October 8, 2017

Tuesday, October 3, 2017

Awww Yeah vol. 64

I have always taken the position that the men's magazines — from the glossiest and most sophisticated to the rawest and raunchiest — represent the brute reality of sexuality. Pornography is not a distortion. It is not a sexist twisting of the facts of life but a kind of peephole into the roiling, primitive animal energies that are at the heart of sexual attraction and desire. 

 - Camille Paglia

Camille Paglia on Hugh Hefner's Legacy, Trump's Masculinity and Feminism's Sex Phobia

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

Negation Aspiration vol. 70

Cannibal family 'confesses to killing and eating at least 30 people in Russia, where they kept human remains in the cellar of their house of horror and posed for selfies with body parts'

  • 'Cannibal family' from Krasnodar in Russia confesses to eating at least 30 people
  • Dmitry Baksheev, 35, said to have told interrogators cannibalism began in 1999
  • His picture was released along with an alleged female victim who was not named
  • Baksheev and his wife Natalia alleged to have stored body parts in their freezer
  • WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT 


Monday, September 4, 2017

Negation Aspiration vol. 69



meanwhile....

One of the reasons “Twin Peaks” is so persistently seductive is because it finds a way to inhabit American emptiness in a way few others can approach. Emptiness is a part of this country’s cultural heritage; driving through America, in “Twin Peaks,” feels as isolated and hair-raising as it might on a long stretch of two-lane highway through remote Texas. The gas station in the final episode is shrouded with darkness that looks ready to close in at a moment’s notice. Lynch’s art, at least part of it, injects meaning behind moments that would otherwise be stunning for their artifice. It’s like a reverse camp, and it’s especially apparent for any emphasis on Lee, who so thoroughly embodies his “Twin Peaks” aesthetic. The final hour of “Twin Peaks: The Return felt like it was the final stroke cutting through a shroud of illusion about America that the show has explored since the first episode. Underneath the artifice — the suggestions made by this soap operatic melodrama — is that endless, echoing scream.



‘Twin Peaks’ Finale Recap: The Story Ends — Forever? — With a Mystifying, Entrancing Finish

much like with the first 2hrs of this experience, i sat with my swirling thoughts and feelings for two days before attempting to articulate my reaction to the final two hours. 

what i loved about this 18 hour fever-film is innumerable to list, but i can say what i found most satisfying was how it existed as a casual affront to the entitlements of fandom. not adversarial towards all those demands, but insouciant to their hems and haws. the fan-fiction moments were expertly woven into the greater fabric of the universe as a fruitless attempt to disrupt and derail their inevitable consumption by the tar-blooded world eaters of encroaching psychological/biological armageddon  . 

Instead of a crowd-pleasing final curtain we were gifted with a meditative treatise on the ambient collapse left behind in the chasing of nostalgic correction. pristine memories become increasingly weathered from holding back their greasy collage-works of infinite nightmare, blood smeared across our dead faces until malignant orbs of cancerous wanting violently propel from a crowning postmortem incision, life but a dream that's been had by the non-existent.  

Thursday, August 17, 2017

U.S.A.! U.S.A.! vol. 110


8/23/17 addendum:

woke up this morning with a head full of garbage after last night's primal scream group therapy session, its nostalgic underpinnings seemed designed less to reassure the constituents than to cautiously mend the wounded ego of a deeply unpleasant grand-toddler, whose limited exposure to a negative conditioning / positive reinforcement behavioral dichotomy has left his mental faculties in a state not dissimilar from his approval ratings; totally fucking cratered. anywaaaaaaay;



Donald Trump 

Needs 

 Yesterday


We're done with the 'take what we can get' phase
of Donald Trump's administration.
It's time for the 'he's a disaster
and needs to go' phase.
remember that scene in Batman Returns when the Caped Crusader is closing in on the Penguin's lair and the Penguin starts looking to his henchpeople and they all start slinking away so they don't get their clown-asses handed to them by a violent superhero in a missle-boat?

that's what we're seeing here.

i'm more than exhausted by the sneering malice of this sentient spite-diaper who has yet to out-learn grade school cruelties. this singularly unremarkable, hygiene-allergic cold sore of a man-boy who contributes nothing to the zeitgeist and appeals only to the those with the comedic sensibilities and intellectual/emotional capacities of over-sheltered, mean-spirited seventh graders who endlessly hurl increasingly nonsensical insults at one another during gym class.

it's beyond the pale.

it's stupid, vicious, and deadening.

this isn't arch-level schadenfreude, it's a two-way suicide watch.

part of me still wants to believe this all some kind of twisted performance art; someone in orange-face and a fat suit who has crafted an invariably ugly alter-ego fashioned in the deed of Andy Kaufman's Tony Clifton, the boorishly tone-deaf lounge act swapped out for an overcommitted internet troll persona. Sam Hyde on global scale.

i don't know if this will end... all i know is i'm fucking done.


Tuesday, August 15, 2017

U.S.A.! U.S.A.! vol. 109

Goodbye, Pepe

The end of the alt-right

how many of these racist trolls are committed to the real-life violence and potential state repression that the movement’s goals will now summon forth? The standard online shtick for politically serious members of the alt-right has been to flirt with Nazism but then to laugh at anyone who took these gestures at face value. But in the wake of James Alex Fields’ alleged terrorist assault in Charlottesville, which claimed the life of antifa protestor Heather Heyer, ironic dodges are foreclosed to the alt-right. In addition to Fields’ usage of a car as a deadly weapon—a tactic borrowed, ironically enough, from ISIS sympathizers in Europe—the show of fascist strength in Charlottesville made it abundantly clear that the most vocal and committed leaders of the movement are not basement-dwelling geeks but heavily armed militiamen. This was no shambolic gathering of weedy LARPers or neckbeards with silly grins and Pepe signs but a uniformed procession of politically serious white nationalists prepared for violence and employing deadly serious chants of “blood and soil” and “you will not replace us.” 

- Angela Nagle

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Negation Aspiration vol. 67

How Tom Green Let the Trolls Out, Then Vanished

The proto-troll took trolling tactics mainstream, but now he’s just another old guy telling the kids to quiet down.

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

NERRRRRRRD! vol. 61

As an artistic document, I can think of no bigger indictment of the failures of intelligence than "Pickle Rick." Yes, we no doubt live in a world where a lack of intelligence and a lack of awareness (self or otherwise) fail us at every turn. But intelligence is far from the savior of the basic emotional truths at the heart of the human psyche. Our inability to grasp our own capacity for fear, anger, disgust, sadness and joy is what so easily mars the engine of our selfhood. For the biggest truth always rests in our hearts and bodies. There is no outsmarting it. There is no outrunning it. And yet, we'd rather turn ourselves into pickles instead of facing the obvious darkness in our hearts. Which means, yes, this episode is about our broken emotional systems. It is about the way we come to value certain "positive" traits (like intelligence and power) that we believe will allow us to keep surviving, because we believe they have what allowed us to survive so far. But they will never be enough to make us whole, or even make us balanced. They are just broken systems we keep feeding again and again, confident our little band-aid solutions will fix things simply because they momentarily alleviate the guilt or anger. And that's how we go on, trapped in cycles, succeeding to our own crippling ends, and never addressing the ways we are broken. It is an episode about the ways we lie to ourselves and others. Especially because we know that, in the end, there is only facing the truth. And how we are utterly terrified to do it.


Film Crit Hulk SMASH: Let’s Talk About “Pickle Rick”


A look at RICK & MORTY's cutthroat mediation on intelligence.

Tuesday, August 8, 2017

U.S.A.! U.S.A.! vol. 108


so  yeah...

......this fat cunt just threatened nuclear war...

....via Twitter....

....on his summer vacation.





Negation Aspiration vol. 66(6)

Though it was never proven in court, Metheny said in a jailhouse confession that he butchered the bodies of Magaziner and Spicer and sold the meat in a roadside stand, calling it his 'special meat'.
'I had real roast beef and pork sandwiches and why not they were very good,' he wrote. 'The human body tastes was very similar to pork. If you mix it together no one can tell the difference.'
After he pleaded guilty to murdering Spicer and Magaziner, Metheny begged a jury for the death penalty. 
'The words `I'm sorry' will never come out, for they would be a lie,' he said in court. 
'I am more than willing to give up my life for what I have done, to have God judge me and send [me] to hell for eternity.'
The twisted killer concluded his jailhouse confession with a warning for hungry travelers on unfamiliar roads.
'So the next time you're riding down the road and you happen to see an open pit beef stand that you've never seen before, make sure you think about this story before you take a bite of that sandwich,' he wrote. 
'Sometimes you never know who you may be eating. Ha! Ha!'


Baltimore serial killer who cut up his victims and SOLD them as BBQ is found dead in his jail cell aged 62

  • Joseph Roy Metheny, 62, found dead on Saturday in a Maryland prison cell
  • Metheny was serving two life sentences for the murder of two women
  • Killer confessed to as many as 10 murders in 1990s and asked for death penalty
  • Morbidly obese killer said he served up the victims in a roadside BBQ stand