forgotten/lost/miscellaneous

Miscellaneous

Robert Yager Latin Gangs of LA/Solitude/Human Kerplunk

“Solitude is the profoundest fact of the human condition. Man is the only being who knows he is alone.”

Octavio Paz

too cold to go to the dogs/too far to go to wimbledon/to tired to drink/the evening feels like Cheryl Cole/a dismal dear I’m sick of looking at and I cant be bothered to hoist my dirty dick into/overexposed and jaded/I’ve seen it all before/tired of looking at her like all I can see is the cracks in the veneer/lets just watch movies and eat caribbean food from Kay Kay’s/ignore eachother/but still not feel alone/and whilst the world shifts/forever temporary/I want something that is forever/a point of reference other than myself/I can’t be trusted to tell the difference between what’s real or a dream/ I’d rather jerk off/to some random lady/a human kerplunk with veined black cocks knocking round her marbles/a visceral war of attrition/on wide 6/that never updates regularly enough/I need something new/a voyage of vaginal variety/but beaten by the world/beating some life into this disenchanted organ/and after/with pearly finger webs/and you lay there like a baby/mess on the sheets/for what could be forever/the complete desire to be alone subsides into loneliness

and

the

complete desire

to

be

with

anyone

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Korean War Photographs/Revelations/Military Science & War by Proxy

“I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones”

Albert Einstein

North and South Korea were sponsored by external powers, thus facilitating the war’s metamorphosis from a civil war to a proxy war between powers involved in the larger Cold War. From a military science perspective, the Korean War combined strategies and tactics of World War I and World War II—swift infantry attacks followed by air bombing raids. The initial mobile campaign transitioned to trench warfare, lasting from July 1951 until the 1953 border stalemate and armistice though minor outbreaks of fighting continue to the present day.

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Part of the imposing New York crew Monsta Island Czars, Megalon (a.k.a. Tommy Gunn a.k.a. the Black Jeezus of Rap) first gained recognition with his early Fondle ‘Em single “”One In A Million”” b/w “”Peace to the Homeless,”” as well as a show-stealing appearance on MF DOOM’s classic Operation: Doomsday. Flexing an intimidating, lightning-fast delivery paired with graphic lyrics focused primarily on narcotics conspiracy and bloodstained sidewalks, he’s one of the most popular members of the M.I.C. Though legal situations delayed its release, A Penny for Your Thoughts is nonetheless a great first album, loaded with illicit verses and dark, dramatic beatscapes provided by in-house producer X-Ray da Mindbenda.

Download Soundtrack: Penny for your Thoughts – Megalon

 


Buddy Esquire & Phase 2/Graves in the Snow/Old School Flyers

where junkies prowI,
where the tigers growI...

in search
of that much-needed bIow.

Where winos cringe
on a canned-heat binge...  

and find their graves
in the snow.

Russell Stevens Jr. / John Hull
 

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download the soundtrack:

Long Live the Kane – Big Daddy Kane

if you enjoy this album please obtain a legal copy


piano necktie packaging/women/harlem rag

“What a strange thing man is; and what a stranger thing woman.”
Lord Byron


nothing is true/persian illuminati/in god we trust

“Nothing is true. Everything is permitted.”

Hassan I Sabbah


pulp porn novella covers/hot dogs and rams/fela kuti

and these pulp porno novella covers so obscene in terms of their cover art and titles/had to edit the collection and remove the more sinister titles/and who the fuck whacked off to these?/and who the fuck illustrated the covers?/and the titles; The Gay Trap, Moms Donkey Urge and Mom Loves Hot Dogs/these were the tamer titles that I found/that didn’t include rape, cannibalism or torture/so next time you walk down the street and smile at a stranger/answer the door/or sit next to someone on the bus/look at them real close/they could be hot for the ram, a queer daddy or a pussy puncher.

and the morning spent frozen in this city I missed all weekend in Copenhagen/whose 7-11 stores remind me of america/but too cold for a slushy/hung over in hotel rooms/hotdogs and beer/wandered empty misty streets and docks/bow-tie and braces/blowing in my hands rubbing my numb nose/shearling and fur/on return went straight for caribbean food at Kay-Kays/duvet on the couch/laptop out/grape soda/watched elite force and quay brothers/but tonight i’ll cook thai/lime leaves and fish sauce/shut out the world/have some tom-fappery to interracial amateur housewives and shemales on wide 6

and

warm

these

frozen

mits

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download soundtrack: zombie – fela kuti

if you enjoy this album please obtain a legal copy


the death of the japanese city/gojira/jack burton

When some wild-eyed, eight-foot-tall maniac grabs your neck, taps the back of your favorite head up against the barroom wall, looks you crooked in the eye and asks you if ya paid your dues, you just stare that big sucker right back in the eye, and you remember what ol’ Jack Burton always says at a time like that; “Yessir, the check is in the mail.”

Jack Burton

and yesterday couldn’t move/the gravity of the day holding me in place/ I dreamt that moths ate through all my clothes/cashmere knits resting in their draws/and awake to old rice glued onto all the crockery in the dishwasher/where the dishes wait to be washed by hand/ a thousand things to do/dirty clothes/dusty floors/hairs around the sink/piles of washing up all glazed in food/the sink blocked/emails/invoices/and I can’t face any of it/and aching sore from flagellation/shemale porn/harry s morgan movies/collette sigma/debora couer/trying to find something obscene and perverse/chasing the zero/ as if to shock myself like frankensteins monster with lightening bolts through my cock

as if

I’m trying

not to

thrash

some love

into

myself

but

rather,

beat

out

the

self

loathing

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photographs of nagasaki, hiroshima and godzilla post nuclear exposure


Annie Get Your Gun/Cannibal Holocaust/Night of the Wang

and the porn then was visceral, all meat and potatoes with a side order of meat/todays filth so clinical with rubbery cold flesh, astro glide, the smell of bleached surfaces and antibacterial hand gel/there is no vaginal discharge, stray hairs, wet pussys, just cold lube smeared on cold thighs sickly sweet/a machine pumping out dilated cunts and viagra engorged wangs.

and they asked buttman in a documentary about his fixation with anal, and he said that it was because it was ‘real’ that you get a ‘real’ reaction from the actress/and I like that, porn thats ‘real’/and rocco siffredi still holds the fort down/no antibacterial hand gel or viagra there/the last great porn auteur/dirty anal kelly in rome part 2 his citizen kane.

and I heard about a cocktail, called a mexican hooker, that consists of tequila, tuna brine and tabasco/and thought it sounded quite good/and talking of mexican hookers, if they all looked like jessica alba in the killer inside me/I’d be continually broke/and they don’t understand that casey affleck is the physically small, appearingly mild mannered psychopath that jim thompson captured and characterised in a lot of his books/and played it perfectly.

so enjoy the tattered magazine covers/ranging from sinister to hillarious/with wild typographic design/and semen glazed laminate/and the riz ortolani soundtrack/ecclectic sounds that somehow are never disjointed/so go get your gun and lets christen this evening

the

night

of

the

wang

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soundtrack: Cannibal Holocaust – Riz Ortolani

if you like this album please purchase a legal copy


Kenny Powers Bedroom/Leviathan/Kerry Katona and the Modern Man

“during the time men live without a common power to keep them all in awe, they are in that condition which is called war; and such a war as is of every man against every man”

Thomas Hobbes

last night I awoke in the am/ the fear of failure/and desperation/raped me like a great big dirty dick whilst I slept/and I took 10mg of valium/and watched season 2 of eastbound and down and drank strawberry nesquik.

eastbound and down is an incredible show/and perfect in every way/it captures self-destruction, sleaze, vanity and ego with unflinching accuracy/it paints a portrait of the true essence of the modern mans psyche/the parts of us that we keep hidden/not because they are too ugly, bust because they are ridiculous, pathetic and hilarious/that without finding something to aspire too and accomplish/it is these characteristics that will define us/and we will all end up like Kerry Katona; bloated, soulless and bitter/flaunting her grim celebration of the human form in lads mags and asda ads/forever hideous/as if no amount of powder of cream foundation can cover/how twisted and vile her soul is/this faux fame without talent/creates monsters.

strippers and sleaze/cut in with drug abuse and indian midgets/a carnival pain and comedy and profanity/a series of false starts to enlightenment that go nowhere but down/a testament to tenacity in the face of adversity/of the inabilty to change/but the refusal to stop trying; the refusal to accept the status quo.

and to answer the question I think I’m an ass man/but for at least 2 days of the week I obsess over tits/and along with arrested development this my favorite comedy show/and I wish there was more of both/and I feel that failure /whilst devestating/is also kind of amusing/and we should at least be honest with ourselves about how ego-driven, childish, cruel, selfish and ugly we can be/and doesn’t kenny powers bedroom

look

like

the

inside

of

my

soul

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Coca-Cola/Dinosauria/Yesterdays Empires

and today was spent drawing little frogs in regency dress playing banjos and trumpets/and researching the origins of harlequins and misty dawn/but all I keep turning up is articles on john holmes/and before they throw up coca-cola signs on everything/here are some postcards of Europe/of yesterdays empires/sometimes it is strange/to view things that are so ingrained in our aesthetic psyche/and realise/that although we know what they look like/we have never really looked at them/and last week I walked past big ben/and it touched me like sunlight/and there are so many cliched observations we could make/about global companies/becoming the new world powers/and lizards secretly ruling the world/and fanta being a drink that was created for the nazis/but when I think of the end of things

I

always

think

of

jade goody

and

dinosauria

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Born like this
Into this
As the chalk faces smile
As Mrs. Death laughs
As the elevators break
As political landscapes dissolve
As the supermarket bag boy holds a college degree
As the oily fish spit out their oily prey
As the sun is masked
We are
Born like this
Into this
Into these carefully mad wars
Into the sight of broken factory windows of emptiness
Into bars where people no longer speak to each other
Into fist fights that end as shootings and knifings
Born into this
Into hospitals which are so expensive that it’s cheaper to die
Into lawyers who charge so much it’s cheaper to plead guilty
Into a country where the jails are full and the madhouses closed
Into a place where the masses elevate fools into rich heroes
Born into this
Walking and living through this
Dying because of this
Muted because of this
Castrated
Debauched
Disinherited
Because of this
Fooled by this
Used by this
Pissed on by this
Made crazy and sick by this
Made violent
Made inhuman
By this
The heart is blackened
The fingers reach for the throat
The gun
The knife
The bomb
The fingers reach toward an unresponsive god
The fingers reach for the bottle
The pill
The powder
We are born into this sorrowful deadliness
We are born into a government 60 years in debt
That soon will be unable to even pay the interest on that debt
And the banks will burn
Money will be useless
There will be open and unpunished murder in the streets
It will be guns and roving mobs
Land will be useless
Food will become a diminishing return
Nuclear power will be taken over by the many
Explosions will continually shake the earth
Radiated robot men will stalk each other
The rich and the chosen will watch from space platforms
Dante’s Inferno will be made to look like a children’s playground
The sun will not be seen and it will always be night
Trees will die
All vegetation will die
Radiated men will eat the flesh of radiated men
The sea will be poisoned
The lakes and rivers will vanish
Rain will be the new gold
The rotting bodies of men and animals will stink in the dark wind
The last few survivors will be overtaken by new and hideous diseases
And the space platforms will be destroyed by attrition
The petering out of supplies
The natural effect of general decay
And there will be the most beautiful silence never heard
Born out of that.
The sun still hidden there
Awaiting the next chapter.

Charles Bukowski

Antique Porn/Who would you fuck?/A basement apartment in Cohoes

“The universe is a big place, perhaps the biggest.”

Kilgore Trout

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and it was a toss up between a collection of all those sticky sickly color climax magazine covers where the penises and vaginas all look red raw or these dusty old antique porn images/but it was my mood/and I was drawn to the breasts/the slightly sagging honesty of them/the backgrounds/shoes/and frilly things/lingerie from the the schizophrenic shufflings of a time machine with a mechanical hard-on/their expressions/the accessibility of their imperfection/and the regular beauty we get today so homogenous/with trimmed clams/and dull visits to the gym/the war on cellulite/and the ladies seem cool with it/cool that their bodies are so random and different/and so sexualised because of this/and I want something tangible/something real/ to eat the type of pussy you need to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand when shes done/all these ladies come hard all shaking thighs around your ears/no theatrics/and it makes me think of Kilgore Trout/and Ghostface/and ODB/wide open beavers/but the question is/not about the scattered time periods

but who

would

you

fuck?

soundtrack: Supreme Clientele – Ghostface Killah

if you enjoy this album please purchase a legal copy


Louise Brooks/Black & White/The World in 2030AD

“There is no Garbo, there is no Dietrich, there is only Louise Brooks”

Henri Langlois

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Photographs of Louise Brooks, random black & white images and 9 illustrations by E McKnight Kauffer from the book The World in 2030AD.

The world in 2030AD  was published in 1930, the year its author, conservative politician FE Smith (Earl of Birkenhead) died. Kauffer contributed  these 9 illustrations to the book.


Le Guerre Festive (1680)

Knights and tournaments of 17th century Spain featuring illustrations of horsemen in armor, etched by Giovanni Battista Mansella.

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Bikers: Colours & Sex

sons of anarchy is kind of like a grubby version of the wonder years; with jax’s soul searching monologues at the end of every episode comparable to kevin arnold’s own insightful and introspective realisations.

kevin and jax’s soliloquies both not only make me want to cave their faces in with my bare fists, but were also cringeworthy to the extent of making me actually ashamed of my species.

the question is,

‘is jax the hamlet of the metrosexual generation?’

the only reasons I’ve watched this show is because of the talents of Ron Perlman, Kim Coates and Bobby Munson. the rest of the show is really kind of lame and/or kind of silly; jax’s consistent childish and self indulgent philosophising, the biker pledge who looks like the cat from coldplay and the soap opera/rape my mum/evil supervillain taking over the town narrative.

as a huge fan of the shield and as having had a long standing interest in biker culture, sons of anarchy was a real disappointment, especially considering the intriguing subject matter, strong cast and the writer/producers previous project.

So, what should it have been like?

It

should

have been

like

this

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