A knock-turn-[o]ll Sketch of Animalistick Saturnalia

Dark room. Night. 2 guys, leather coats, short haircuts,1 sitting, the other standing. 1 girl, nude, perfect, strapped with barbed wire to a chair. Has megaphone tied to her mouth (the wide end covers her nose and chin).

girl is positioned near only window in room (her forms magically seem to blend in with the window and the fuchsia wall surrounding it). outside – a gorgeous starry sky à la van Gogh (possible inscription: “Freud: ‘fuck Kant’; Bukowski: ‘you misspelled Kant’; de Beauvoir: ‘fucking sexist pricks’ [she spits at/on/at god; half the liquid slides down from his deformed physiognomy back down on her face; she swallows greedily, happily; Adorno claps and jeers]”). apartment – on second floor. street level: squad car + 2 officers standing near vehicle, both strangely immobile; their shapes are continually dissipating and then ethereally rearranging themselves anew, in asymmetrical forms, inhuman yet still police-like. girl starts shaking, agitating & rubbing herself against barbed wire; lacerations appear instantly (an eerie shade of blue).

Second guy (standing) approaches the other, gazes at the latter’s feet, then pulls out gun and shoots the other man twice in each shoulder (bullets land in exact same spot on each shoulder => only 2 exit wounds in total). Proceeds to shoot other guy in the head, execution style. Semi-liquid blood trickles down front, cheeks, chin; eyes only become whiter, expressionless and void (colour-drained symmetrical vacuums). Killer suddenly leans in and kisses victim passionately, careful to take in every last drop of blood. He licks dead man’s eyeballs (sudden scorching vision of dead guy, obviously blind by this point, with long white hair, old, decrepit, emaciated, dressed in sad gray rags). Second guy snaps out of daydream (i.e. last scene – not real), hungrily licks and cruelly bites his lips, then approaches other guy in a manner identical to the one in fantasy.

Gazes at other man’s hands, rubs own crotch (now wet and dominated by large perfectly triangular protuberance). Kicks the other guy in chest as hard as possible (displaying abnormal strength); seated guy, without changing position or even blinking and never separated from chair, flies into opposite wall, remains motionless for a while then slowly slides down until chair is back on floor – oddly enough, it’s only supported by one leg, maintaining perfect equilibrium while other 3 legs are suspended in the air – fuck ‘em. [note: guy’s body left dense green slug-like ooze on wall; ooze rapidly dissolves cheap copy of Bosch painting]. A tattoo appears and glows for a while on recipient’s forehead (an illegible word beginning with ‘S’ and – possibly - having another ‘s’ near the end); tattoo replaced by flashy vivid 1940’s propaganda poster of an average joe wearing horridly disproportionate miner’s helmet ador(n)ed by Doric motifs. Assailant walks up to victim and slaps him as hard as he can; he then chokes and coughs for a bit, starts to strangle himself wildly and finally spits out formerly white fine quality silk glove, now patched up, covered with mould, unpleasant-looking fluids flowing steadily out of ring and middle fingers and covered in mucus. Glove is thrown to girl, who energetically jumps in air in elegant dolphin-like motion (together with chair) and intercepts glove with her mouth and happily chews it; her navel intermittently bleeds. Panegyric to hypocrisy.

Seated guy (never lost his composure) coughs to attract other guy’s attention, is briefly distracted by unidentified (and never to be identified and maybe even inexistent; no, definitely inexistent) object (fly?), then says in cold placid metallic voice: ‘I told you to leave. Get out of here Tony’ (when pronouncing ‘Tony his voice suddenly shifts/escalates to a perfect castrato’).

Other guy is quiet and pensive for a moment, then punches speaker in the ribs with max power; proceeds to lick own knuckles and whimper. ‘Leave’ – stentorian, firm, and irrefragable certainty. ‘Get the fuck out bitch’. Annoyed, standing guy gazes at the almost completely destroyed Bosch on wall, inserts finger in anal orifice and heads for door. On threshold (door opens by itself, widely and menacingly; clichéd wind heard rummaging through alleys, crawling up urine-stained trash cans and howling with immaterial- immunity – and paroxysmal glee). Pauses and looks imploringly at other guy. No reaction. Frustrated & vexed, exist/exits room and slams door (the pov stays in the interior of the flat, surveying the second guy thru the peephole). There is large cow waiting on staircase; second guy grabs her by the humid pink-bluish nostrils and descends. Halfway down (& nearly outta sight), seems to change his mind, hesitantly makes to return to flat but quickly (2.007 millennia) abandons plan. Bites off large chunk from cow’s side (no reaction), chews dejectedly and leaves with his bovine companion. Back inside: girl wiggles intensely, seated guy commandingly silences her with a wave of his hand. Pulls pants down and jerks off savagely; sperm flies to ceiling (spread throughout whole rrrooom), then gathers near chandelier and evaporates; lights instantly flicker on/. Guy gets up, slowly (& seemingly calculatedly) walks toward girl and removes megaphone. All bruises from wire suddenly become wounds with open scabs,+ incredible bleeding. Impervious, girl flirtatiously says: ‘Caught a movie the other night. It was quite good. Female complexity and male psychological impotence and whatnot. Need to emulate heroine like good little fucking adolescent postmodernist distortion, so would you kindly untie me?’ Guy bites off barbed wire, aggravating girl’s incessant bleeding his own tongue is revealed to be made of silver (symbolic…); he pointlessly tries to insert it into own nostril, then simply rips it off and savagely tries to get it to fit inside nose (fails and is exasperated). Face – disfigured. Girl tries to say something, annoyed at lack of attention; he suddenly slaps her at full might, she starts laughing, satisfied. She gets up, walks to large golden Victorian mirror and contemplates herself. Man follows, then bows down in front of mirror and tries to perform cunnilingus on girl’s reflection; again, a failed attempt, as his own body obviously obstructs view of the girl, so he ends up licking/kissing/fellating (choose your perversity) himself. Crawls away (has the air of a squished worm about him, barely alive) and weeps silently. Girl (same flirtatious tone): ‘You guessed my intentions. A remarkable intuition, that. You visceral pathetic hunk of mashed Manto [man smiles gratefully) [suddenly becomes dead-serious, voice almost masculine] I need you to break this mirror. (long silence). Please. You know full well I can’t. I can’t disrupt the fluidity of a perfect(ly transcendent) replica of a Me encased in asphyxiating eternity, an existence I never had and probably don’t even want (not after bataille at least, me being a vapid adolescent). I hate myself but can’t kill myself. The alterity disgusts and excites me; I’m dry and panting like a nascent crevasse, like an aborted mosquito,. My libido is dead, I can’t hear anymore. Break the mirror, then give me the piece in the middle, the one in the Absolute (geometrically determined] centre. Come on you emasculated cunt (don’t.; I haven’t read -aristotle).’ Man doesn’t move, stares at her with blank expression. Girl gets nearer to mirror, touches it with her palms then pushes her whole body against & into the mutant looking-glass; the reflection of her lost Self starts to gradually dominate everything in mirror: the colours of the reflected room fade, silently and fluidly slipping into/inside mirror-Girl; furniture (what furniture?) adn walls scream silently into Girl’s angelic orality, causing deep watery visual reverberations but ultimately becoming absorbed by the growing néant of Girl’s being (or is it Becoming?.). In the end, nothing except Girl’s reflection remains insdie (spoiler alert) mirror; she is insanely beautiful, nuder than life (in the afternoon of a prostituted peach), hieratic imposing completelyubiquitoussmoothlyburnishedT0tality; divine, sexually frenzied and pulsating with deathly vivacity, her hair flowing in all directions and thunderbolts dyingcrashin’tumblingclimaxing inside her eyes (a netter phrasing would be perhaps inside her look, her glance (for they are now reduced to existing exclusively inside her glance), her visual hegemony and her signed chamber pot).Man looks for penis but can’t find it. Falls asleep and is embraced languidly by rest of room (both equally passive-aggressive toward grilll-Girl), equally mesmerised (& bored shitless) by Girl’s morbid perfection. Finally she starts falling inside the mirror (and consequently inside herSelf. Grows 4 arms that swing in all directions armed with ceremonial golden mace and large box of kleenex; new arms fall ofF?U?Yesthankyou.) and crawl towards man, start strangling him (no reaction) and then dissipate into a fleshy scintillating cloud of melted concrete and 3-d Dna models (supersized). Girl finally disappears inside herSelf; mirror is violently shaken, starts oscillating uncontrollably and steadily. spasmodically heads towards window. Girl’s apotheosis animates it more and more intensely by the second; mirror trips over man but interrupts fall in midair and regains (& ages cats & dogs) balance (next!!!] and doggedly continues epic journey. Having reached window (same starry sky, new inscription: ‘Closed to visitors. No were not renovating jackass. No solicitors beggars truants tramps mendicant whores canine aberrations or part-time undertakers. Fuck off. Seriously, Fuck off’. [US citizens only: fuck off thata way] -.-; fuck your anally P.C. disparity’. Mirror struggles to fit through window, finally manages to slide through and falls free-running into nothingness (i.e. outsdie). Into secure non-safety. No vociferous sonorous dead. Odin-waking impact, only muffled fleshy thud. Camera moves to window cautiously leans o’er’t and falls as well (as if by magic)/. Brief lack of signal, then image comes back, crispy-fried and crystalliner then Eva. Disembodied camera gets up, dusts itself off with its absurdly inexistent hands [/pseudo-pods] then focuses on place where fell(ed) mirror the glass. No mirror [gasp for air; some dumb fuck faints off-screen]. Nowhere anywhere everywhere. Just girl’s (Devi’s) cadaver on hood of police car. Greyish, bruised, a needled syringe sticking out of the small of her back, already partially putrefied. White ivory liquid pouring out of nostrils and aureole (mildly milky deluge-based soteriology – ignore comment]. Cops still don’t move (one gets the impression they’re merely cardboard figures, -sapped parodies, paragons of cosmic creationist moral absolutiveness ness Ness retroactive imbecility.

John Cow






































































































































































































































































































































































































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