sadoo ate n*v*l n*v*l eats sadoo

i lack the linear sequencing module required to think or write or act or live in your culture  someone was drunk on the assembly line and dropped my module into a urinal  one of those with a mothpuck that doesnt flush properly and is filled with weekold piss and cigarette butts and the bibbertippler thinks no onell notice and in exchange he substitutes a few random beta plasmatic polypolar postanarchic diffeohomeomorphoglomean modules that never went into production that he happens to have down his wretched underwear  but i do

when is time? may be the central question of time  the question that unites clock or technological or bureaucratic or shapebound time and dreamtime or wordtime or wyrmtime or merdetime

this isnt a novel  its a devastation  a soul inversion and arid turning  a hurlyburlywhirlytwirly  a dinner party of inmate warden psychiatrist custodian inspector chef anthropologist journalist corpse arborist consultant  which degenerates and apotheosizes simultaneously as the courses of drinking surpass the sum of their own fluidity   theres a formula for this

whys sadoo a novel? because everythings a novel  because you tell me nothings real unless its a novel   heres a silly jism

      sadoo is a novel

      i is a sadoo

      therefore i is a novel

everything complicates and is complicated  even the things intended to simplify complicate  thus i fit sadoo into modern times which  despite chucky spencer  is always not then but now  and you criticize me of being mad  im just the outside mad you are inside  but for me this is the way of things  sadoo isnt representative of reality or an escape from it  it is reality but reality thats found outside reality by going into reality so far one falls into   into what?   well         novel

is the novel a book? or in more accurate language is novel book? its said now in the better or at least more forceful circles books dont exist  but if book exists is it greater or lesser than novel? ie is it a hypo or hypernym? all novels are books but that all books are novels  though not as readily said  is no less true

is book a subset of dream or dream book?

does knowledge cascade after failure or failure knowledge?

which follows which  before or after?

love or doubt? whos the mother?

and dont say this is like asking which is bigger  magenta or justice? everythings analogous belowandabove enfolded deadandalive vision and follow and zorb and book   sadoo is this everything   everythings askable   sadoos this askability

pissed to announce

sadoo diaper's pissed t'announce it's been accepted into the university of harstīttwüttemford's doctoral program for affix studies as part of the special access cohort of polypolars approved as experimental inversion by the senate's subcommittee on imaginative extermination using funds found in malata h ibuzu's lunchbox in the faculty of bolometer's lesser cafeteria based on a proposed dissertation : the heffalump as ecological indicator of late capitalistic intersectionality and proposed metonymy for a transapocalyptic economics with doktor hûnzul-hoøf as chief oppressor and doktor hìzl-lzíh and the very doktor māñgêtôüt as respectively ancillary inquisitor and offense emeritus

excerpts will be posted on this or other venues

some accessible only by the esotatically initiated

based on the formula

p = s * i

p - post

s - scintillation > 6.7

i - incomprehensibilitation > 14.12

using the schœll-håzinger (fräünhöfer) prötötÿpës

rēlēāsē 17.04b

tyana

look at the old man piss

it bibbles and spurts like a hose with leaks in it

bet he thinks every time he takes it out of the old days

when his gush was firm and strong

when there was no doubt in his urine

and his cock held its head tall like the king of a microstate

just move your ass a little closer to my nose will you honey  you know i like to see your dimples wiggle when you blast one of your smelly ones into my holes

its coming  its coming  those beans and beer are going to make it good   i feel it all squishy and juicy as its partying through the pipe  oh yeah  yeah  the sphincters ready  here it is

oh honey  that was your best one in years  you do them so good  if you feel another one of those coming can you do like you do and pinch my nose with your ass cheeks and blow it right up  its so full and dual that way

youre dirty sweety poo  thats why i love you so much

look at him  the old man

wonder how he does it in public washrooms

if he uses a cubicle to hide his pathetic dribble

or if he covers the spurty spittle with his hand

while he whizzes beside a young thing  prince of piss  whose fire hose is sure and violent

like his cum

when the young cum it is like jupiter shooting the milky way from its gaseous brain

when the old cum it is like puss oozing from an abscess

oooh i feel another one

stick it on my nose

let your nose and my asshole be baucis and philemon

let them be entwined as a foul myth of nature

look  he strokes it

grip my nose harder honey  let my nose be a hard dick nestled in the dirty nest of your hole

it takes so long for him to get it hard

its grown only a centimetre

its a ritual he cant give up but has forgotten what its for

the old should die

we should shove them all into a closet of the internet and save this stupid expense celebrating the only reality  the glorious march of civilization

except those who have money

and give most of it to us

who can help us clamber onto stages of domination

then shove them ruthlessly aside like the marionettes they are

and well become

but lets not talk of that

no

the sun of your ass is on the earth of my face now

they gaze upon one another like lovers

it is coming

better than heroin

better than love

better than death

oh vesuvius and 911

oh art and power

let it fly like the gods on the wings of forgetfulness

i take it up me like nutmeg and lavender

i give it up like a mother her newborn

oh beelzebub and golding

oh jewels of your waste

hes achieved it

it is hard

or rather not hard but with the appearance of hard

a young mans is like freshly made steel  rigid and true

an old mans is like an overused stretched rubber band made from a colonial massacre

will he climax or will it be like last time

the edges of frustration and failure  the lineaments of his life in the waning of a dick

i think hes going to make it

look  a sheen appears on the tip

and his face contorts like the massacred dead

it appears

the simulation of a life force

it reaches his navel

an achievement

it pools like the piss of dogs

ooh  he eats it

hes a pig  like all the old

except those who worship us and give us money

i bet he hopes he offs as he cums

as he sticks his weary prick in the polluted soil of a forest

and a bear molests him from behind

these the fantasies of the depleted

release my nose now  it is finished

yes my darling  let us rise and have breakfast delivered

and face our days of happy dominion

i love you more than all the universes and all the parallel universes

and i love you too honey bear  more than all the genocides and hypocrisies

we are beautiful together

we walk handinhand to the cruel glory of our fates

glory and honor

sake tastes best in the morning

at 5 or 6

after a few hours sleep

with cheap salami and lots of ice cream

birds chirping outside

birds dying outside

the sun rising like a slaughtered cow

with natality a problem

and mass human cannibalism seemingly the best solution

yup

that’s the time to drink sake

buy an expensive bottle

as smooth as the middle ages

no less than $200

blessed by 9 emperors and a few bakufus and seijun suzuki and a woman in the dunes

bring out 2 bottles – 1 at 5, 1 at 6

go bankrupt drinking sake in the morning

bathe in it

pour it on your ice cream

piss in a half-finished bottle and schlop it up and call it yumzie

no worse than going to the mall or concentration camp

call it golgotha at dawn

call it coddled forsaken

call it death of a pussy

call it 午後の曳航

then go back to sleep

go back to sleep

then go to sleep

go to sleep

and dream the dreams of dreaming