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I REALLY LOATHE VULGARITY, SO COMMON YOUR DISGRACEFUL CELLULITIS YOU'LL NEVER BE THE SAME AGAIN, YOU FUCKING STEREOTYPE YOU TAKE JUST LIKE A CUNT CUNT FUCKS JUST LIKE A CUNT YOU ACHE JUST LIKE A CUNT YOU'LL BREAK JUST LIKE A CUNT

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TRANSFERRING PEOPLE IS A FUCKING DEGRADING THING TO DO TO THEM

AND ONE DAY THE YOU'LL UNDERSTAND THAT

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moon's milk spills from my unquiet skull

and forms a white rainbow

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Genocide Organ live @ Limen Festival, Plan B, Moscow, 06.04.2013

source: flickr 📸: Victoria Vorontsova

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This brutally explicit image bears an exceptional promise of revelation: the frank and uncompromising treatment of wounding suggests privileged insight into the body of “experience”. Images like that depicting Nebreda’s burnt torso, along with the hand holding the cigarette-end with which he has been burnt, have an apparently documentary quality. The caption is brusquely matter-of-fact: “Two days later, he burns his torso again” (figure 1 – Nebreda 58). The category of “how” is progressively saturated: we encounter a long series of close-up depictions of the wounded body, as well as more impressionistic mobilisations of bodily material and collages of the instruments of wounding. Images like this one are imbued with a participatory logic: in such extreme close-up, it appears, we have peculiar access to the body which undergoes the processes of burning and cutting and, by implication, the single subject which we take to be associated with both the photographed body and the body of “experience”. While the “reality” of the bodily practices is progressively brought to the fore, however, the accompanying “why”, the underlying scheme which would provide access to the realm of experience, is peculiarly frustrated.

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a robert mapplethorpe polaroid: the necklace patti made for robert

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self-portrait, 1971

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užgavėnės

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screams that seem so unreal

shouts follow the sins

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Constantine Manos - Priest having his coffee, Karpathos, Olympos, Greece, 1964

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Twin Peaks: Pilot (1990) dir. David Lynch