tosf - saint porn

                  el-spet clitia

the online sadoo family – #7

el-spet clitia  - El Spet

http://elspet.blogspot.ca

look!

el-spet clitia dresses before us

exposing artifice

sadoos have long been disappointed in porn. porn that briefly fulfills its function, porn that inspires alienations or unities, suburban basement babysitter goat solstice porn, even rare porn that includes wit, caprice, eros, subversion, talent, intelligence. video in its proximities to simulation has performed better than text, but text is what we inhabit. text that knows how to spell

content   sex, modernity, art, sainthood – they’re all about blurrings. el-spet clitia explores the classics: animals and humans, living and dead, technology and humans, therapists and lovers, architectures and automobiles … even the old standard – humans and humans

stylistically, el-spet blurs porn, scifi, surrealism, transhumanism, historical fiction, erotica, philosophy, how-to, social commentary, neodada, feminism, mysticism, ‘pataphysics, literature (cliter- and cocker-), spirituality, and more – tune into sadoo porn for some of that old-fashioned finger pudenda fun!

zañisha

we’re not sure how we feel about hierarchies but what we do know is that fire is a portal and zañisha knows how to walk through

dimensionalities

el-spet encounters the establishment and dominates it

christ & el-spet

jesus not only has a dick that stretches from earth to heaven but a pussy a little larger than the entire universe

fatwawuwei

an interfaith dialogue between islam and daoism mediated by testicles and vaguely inspired by the grapesintheunderwear scene in the thief’s journal

cambion

no one's hornier than the dead

bundass

count on india for a particular kind of dirty

WW-om-b

theresa may, the muslims, the dead, radical feminists, and el-spet get it on – we may die but sex lives forever

el-spet’s vacuum

a nice little short that doesn’t short

yoga pants

neat porn (one doesn’t always want ice)

mommy & el-spet

sure we have anti-oedipus but that doesn’t mommy the way we want to mommy

spot cocks

the seed and egg that started it all

sadoos welcome a necessary and lost member into their family

    welcome  sadoo  clitia !!!!! 😜😜😜

sadoo next - lambchops 

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at the altar of sobo a3

a human in a wheelchair crossing a street gets hit by a car

            next scene :

human in wheelchair is in a wheelchair … gets hit by a car

            this continues indefinitely until the human’s dwarfed by mobility prosthetics

apply islam’s naming convention of cities (allahabad, mohammadabad) to legacy christian cities :

       old name  new name

new york        jesusabad

london           christabad

paris              maryabad

moscow         godabad

the people are necessary to show the idea of eternity

            gods, you who gave the soul senses to perceive the soul

begin a children’s story like this, continuing …

mixter dickspittle and mixter clitspittle, lickspittles of spittleville, lived spritely …

include it in the grade 3 curriculum

in a barstucks in a privileged geriatric neighbourhood

grabbing an americano to make it through an unwanted afternoon

the old dood in front of me – i only call him old because he sounds old, in the way many young sound old – says when asked by the 12-year-old barista his name is bruce. i say my name is krishna. she asks me to spell it. j – o – o – d i say. she writes something down and says to me – your drink will be down there bruce. i say thanks bruce.

it’s a bruce-all-around afternoon

the 190cm 90kg allmeat black dood at the dispensary who checks my id laughs at my honky name. i blush the colour of a cheap coffin and say i’m changing it to jaylen

we have flight, urban, robotics, ergonomics, weather, finance, disaster, biomechanic, sales & production simulations, but shouldn’t we – considering its centrality to all things human – have developed by now a death simulator we can enter?

            but it was developed long before us! – ayahuasca – this molecular exploratory death simulation device

the transference of language from human atmospheres to its substrates. so silence is only a name for placing of human language in the context of language – humans then becoming quiet in comparison

banisteriopsis caapi instructions for facing plant void to void –

s          it up

o          pen your eyes

b          reathe

o          pen your hands

a¹        give clichés as presents to those who require clichés

wrap up lies for those who love lies

a²        never do i hate myself so much as when i hate myself

a³        it’s only the thought of carrying i mind carrying through security

you drink coffee you smoke cigarettes you write and that’s it

¤art so frequently is the academy’s mistress-gigolo (mistolo gigress) relying on its cues, ⏏rth⏏d⏏xies, certifications, tab⏏⏏s – rather than standing in the environment created of art: an environment that surely can accept pollens and seeds from the academy but even as it accepts equally pollens and seeds from all things including those many environments that flourish far from academic pollination. but art is now commonly just a fenced-in area in an academic landscape (often without even knowing it!) – art only because a sign with art scrawled on it hangs on the fence

la culture est un instrument manié par des professeurs pour fabriquer des professeurs qui à leur tour fabriqueront des professeurs

depression is only depression if you call it depression, just as fat is only fat if you call it fat. there is a taliban of language and the freedom-fighters of the human spirit listen to their death threats with a combination of amusement and mockery

⏏ ⏏

⏏

⏏

there may be no purity
but there is simone

contorting oneself into the infinite prisons of one’s fate is an art normally automatically done; when one though is a specialist of sorts in such contortion – at least in its description, its awareness – every movement, thought, horror, expanse, colour and sound, vacancy, window, presumed escape (but one escapes only to a fate of escaping!), each emotion, fear, doubt, political nuance, relentlessly morphing definitions and statements, increasing lack of clarity (in any explicit articulate sense) of what this fate is and even whether this is the right word for it, the knowledge of nothing else, the small everythings in this knowledge, …

                  … others act, believe, know, promote, analyze, dominate … but those specialists attuned to every sensitivity of fate, like a precision-made instrument designed solely for this purpose, are unable to move with much assurance in these common domains

from death’s impurity i write. the living have called death’s perspective purity (purity – or its radical opposite) but there is no purity. the living do not understand death, that its impurities are different than life’s, and they mistake this difference, through ignorance, with another thing

while there’s something erotic, exhilarating about another’s pain – a delight euphemized and nano-negotiated through the functions of social-dominant language – our own pain is calmly even enjoyably meditative (but only if we have the luxury to reflect on it – that is, as s weil points out, if the pain isn’t too severe)  ¤

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• capitalism has brought about the emancipation of collective humanity with respect to nature. but this collective humanity has itself taken on with respect to the individual the oppressive function formerly exercised by nature

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stupider than birds

i am turning toward a kind of aesthetic mysticism…. when there is no encouragement to be derived from one’s fellows, when the exterior world is disgusting, enervating, corruptive, and brutalizing, honest and sensitive people are forced to seek somewhere within themselves a more suitable place to live. if society continues on its present path i believe we shall see the return of such mystics as have existed in all the dark ages of the world. the soul, unable to overflow, will be concentrated in itself. the time is not far off when we shall see the return of world-sicknesses – beliefs in the last day, expectation of a messiah, etc. but all this enthusiasm will be ignorant of its own nature, and, the age being what it is, can have no theological foundation: what will be its basis? some will seek it in the flesh, others in the ancient religions, others in art; humanity, like the jewish tribes in the desert, will adore all kinds of idols. we were born a little too early: in twenty-five years the points of intersection of these quests will provide superb subjects for masters. then prose (prose especially, the youngest form) will be able to play a magnificent humanitarian symphony. books like the satyricon and the golden ass will be written once more, containing on the intellectual plane all the lush excesses which those books have on the sensual. that is what all the socialists in the world have not been willing to see, with their eternal materialistic preachings. they have denied pain, they have blasphemed three-quarters of modern poetry, the blood of technology that quickens within us. if the feeling of human insufficiency, of the nothingness of life, were to perish (the logical consequence of their hypothesis), we should be more stupid than the birds… perhaps beauty will become a feeling useless to humanity, and art something half-way between algebra and music

diatomaceous earth

the old boys network demonstrated certain admirable skills but mostly i met it with a shrug after learning its proclivities and rites. so too the old girls network. despite any difference in method, presumed virtues and pragmatisms, they both claim an elitism, exuding exclusion. (revolution has been more about revolution than anyone thought!) like all hope, things have been oversold

it’s not what precedes the –archy

but the –archy …

my feet are on the ground, but only because the grave chains them there

my feet are on the ground – or rather in it, rooted in the grave

these scholars who seem to specialize in little more than de-essentializing and essentializing simultaneously, according to no criteria other than ones unacknowledged and self-serving

there are no rules

that is how art is born

how breakthroughs happen

go against the rules or ignore the rules

that is what invention is about

but this is said by one lacking challenges

in money or access to art’s hierarchies

it’s not that we disagree with her

but the conditions from which words are born change the words

increasingly i can only speak the unspeakable

as the unspeakable can hardly be spoken i cannot speak

writing then becomes about this inability

in these nothing days

days of death voices scamper

through my distributed bod

y, chuckling scrubbing

from the guardian –

in moma’s magisterial, blockbuster show of 2012, inventing abstraction: 1910-1925, af klint was excluded. reflex alarm at the occult seems to have been the explanation. what was harder to fathom was curator leah dickerman’s contention that af klint disqualifies herself by not having defined her paintings as art. isn’t it amazing, i remark, how conservative art historians who specialise in the radical can be?

i read

hell’s orgy is the apotheosis of the neutral

as

hell’s orgy is the apothecary of the neutral

which after realizing what the original is seems more evocative

the differences and similarities among the amorality of childhood, adolescence, youth, middle age, older age … a cartography of amorality

the end-to-end costs of happiness (wellness, wealth – pick a commonly desired state). we can only function because we relentlessly decontextualize and then impose on this decontextualization rhetorics of holism to simulatedly compensate for our embodied splinteredness … the growing gaps between consciousness and our singular conditions, gaps we fill with flesh

who isn’t tired of listening to the white man? but who isn’t also tired of listening to the human (somewhat less so than the white man?)? the few white men i’m not tired of listening to are less white men than things-barely-human hidden in the skin of white men. but for these things-barely-human colour, gender (but also – class, psychic-emotional configs, the manifold intelligences …), these skins and hidings, are just movies one might watch twice or once –