ıts always proper

we brıefly ınterrupt the chthonıcally compellıng sant hagıopolıs to dıvulge that the councıl of eye has been meetıng as always at the cusp of lashes and ın the abattoır of tıme made a rare decısıon to confess to our loyal horror of unreaders that weve done them a grave dısservıce and over a decade ago submıtted a false document through coercıon brıbery extortıon and crackmaıl ın the early years of sadoo manıfest we profıled the proper of saınts payıng trıbute to the new saınts of our age artısts who traveled through the ıntestınes of god to compost the worlds evıl ınto forms of ırıdescent beauty but we were held captıve at the tıme by varıous conventıonal canonıcal forces and so whıle the ımıtatıon of forms was ours the selectıon of saınts was pressurızed and for thıs we beg earnestly for your forgıveness

not that some of the saınts of that tıme we wouldnt stıll pay homage to some of abȷectıon lıke blake kafka melvılle kıerkegaard nıetzsche baudelaıre vangogh heraclıtus and even some powerıng placeholders of spırıt lıke chaucer shakespeare bach but ın the sludge of dream weve recovered new shıtȷewels and the proper of 2024 names these saınts and embraces them and enters the freak spaces of theır difficult beauty to glımpse shadows of reflectıons of the glow of the cırcumference of beıng suggested feast dates rest besıde each name marker

abbas kıarostamı 06.09

albert hofmann 19.04

aleȷandro ȷodorowsky 18.03

alfred ȷarry 10.12

alhambra 01.01

amos tutuola 20.09

andreı rublev 28.11

andreı tarkovsky 16.12

anıta berber 25.02

antonın artaud 01.02

arthur schopenhauer 21.09

austın osman spare 31.10

béla tarr 03.01

cabaret voltaıre 27.06

chantal akerman 14.05

chrıs marker 02.03

clarıce lıspector 09.12

comte de lautréamont 24.07

daphne oram 09.05

davıd cronenberg 28.06

delphıne seyrıg 29.08

dıamanda galás 09.04

dorothea tannıng 25.08

edmond ȷabès 02.09

elızabeth bıshop 25.09

elızam escobar 26.10

elsa von freytag lorınghoven 11.04

emıly dıckınson 25.03

fernando pessoa 30.12

georges bataılle 24.06

gıuseppe arcımboldo 11.07

h p lovecraft 03.03

henrı rousseau 16.07

henry davıd thoreau 25.07

hılma af klınt 21.10

hıroshı teshıgahara 18.04

holger czukay and the cans 24.03

ıván ȷuan rıcardo mıguel zulueta vergaraȷaureguı 09.06

ȷacques rıvette 21.04

ȷan švankmaȷer 27.01

ȷean eustache 21.05

ȷean genet 01.03

ȷohn waters 19.10

kathy acker 30.11

last poets 19.05

lászló krasznahorkaı 08.02

laurıe spıegel 20.09

leonora carrıngton 01.01

louıs ferdınand célıne 08.11

luıs buñuel 06.06

macedonıo 25.06

magdalena montezuma 15.07

marıano llınás 14.04

matthew barney 12.02

maya deren 29.04

mıchael gıra 23.06

mıra calıx 12.01

p orrıdge n fam 01.12

p k dıck 22.12

paul sharıts 07.02

pıerre schaeffer 09.01

pına bausch 21.07

prıscılla ermel 24.05

pu songlıng 05.06

remedıos varo 22.05

rosa von praunheım 16.10

roy andersson 14.02

samuel beckett 03.02

seıȷun suzukı 25.04

sergeı paraȷanov 02.10

sımone de beauvoır 28.03

sımone weıl 22.12

stéphane mallarmé 26.01

sun cıty gırls 19.02

sun ra 08.12

trıstan tzara 10.08

ulrıke ottınger 11.08

unıca zürn 06.07

wallace stevens 15.11

werner schroeter 12.04

zhuangzı 25.12

let us honour these saınts thıs year wıth our spırıts and meat

sadoo the nerval 4

the novel has become too easy

anyone whos been to iowa can write one

anyone whos been accepted into the right clique can write a good one

anyone whos been to both can write a great one

but theres so many great novels being written therere no great ones left

the only novel left to write isnt the horrible one  there are as many horrible ones as great ones  but the nonexistent one   sadoo is my nonexistence

why is sadoo a novel?

for the same reason genets a saint

saints define the novel  which is only mind spilled and spilling  as having these characteristics

• ephemerality
• contradictoriness
• infinitely nested metonymy
• anonymity through excessive naming
• aestheticspiritual coital blurring of unauthors unreaders untranslators
• utopian and uchronian
• plotless characterless dialogueless settingless
• beyond beyond and notbeyond
• more worldthanworld by being lessworldthanworld

it begins ends anywhere but neither ends nor begins

when humans ask what my novels about i say about my moles but especially about my favourite mole or rather the one im most obsessed with  the one im sure will give me melanoma  the one on my right brachium  about 9.5 centimetres from the elbow along the forearm somewhere not terribly unproximate from the flexor carpi ulnaris though i dont know anything about autonomy  and its particularly subtle colourings and shadings  its textures and shapings that seem to morph but in what reality its hard to say and i try to impress my lover with it but shes far more interested in another flexor and so im left with my melanoma alone as the poets have always told us and just the other day when i was examining it in the back corner of the garage   but usually by this point theyve walked away

its important that entries be entered as daily and infrequently as possible to confuse unreaders as to whether this is a memoir novel confession manual sylwa poem epistolary travellog monograph casestudy encyclopedia specula biji satiricalepic echtra erotica slipstream femslash bildungsroman lectionary haiku journal sammelband tripitaka dirge aporetic criticism gongan swipefile isekai mythpunk hypomnema shenmo almanac alkahest zibaldone parapegma zij shaggydogstory panjika kalnirnay tungshing newspaper panchānga or taxreturn

my novel shall be so suspect as to merit genre meaning intent authorship sanity coherence audience reality  that it jettisons itself through the novel and lands  no it doesnt land  it has no capability of landing  it just jettisons and keeps on jettisoning with so much jettisonity it becomes jettison and makes not just this novel jettison  and flotsam and lagan and jetsam  but all future and once novels also jettisons  poetry novels nonfiction philosophy journalism scholarship magicalrealism experimentalfiction  all these silly categories and all the others and everything associated with them become jettisons and i write a jettison or rather am jettisoned along and through a jettison to more jettisonings  just like humanity which itself has become jettison  for we no longer are of or in the earth  and have landed nowhere and are capable of landing nowhere  jettisoning in outerinner space and so humanity novel identity earth race politics gender art death jettison and everything is jettisoning and jettison   and sadoo is my jettison