Heterologias

segunda-feira, outubro 22, 2007

 

Alguém tem o contacto do dealer do Benjamin? (O do Baudelaire também serve)


Dwain Esper, Marihuana (1936)




After long hesitation, took hashish at 7 o'clock in the evening. During the day I had been in Aix. I am taking down notes of what possibly follows only to determine whether it will take effect, as my solitariness hardly allows for any other supervision. Next to me a small child is crying, who disturbs me. I think that three quarters of an hour have already elapsed. And yet it has actually been only half an hour. Thus... apart from a very mild absent-mindedness, nothing's happening. I lay upon the bed, read and smoked. All the while opposite me this glimpse of the ventre of Marseilles. (Now the images begin to take hold of me.) The street that I'd so often seen is like an incision cut by a knife.

Certain pages in Steppenwolf , which I read early this morning, were a final impetus to take hashish.

Walter Benjamin (1892-1940), On Hashish (1927-34), Protocol IV: 29 September 1928. Saturday. Marseilles. [Translated by Scott J. Thompson, copyright March 25, 1997]



(Cuidado com a pequena criminalidade: começam no graffiti, passam aos charros e acabam a urrar macacadas com os pretos do jazz e a tomar banho nuas com as outras fufas. Veja-se o caso do Walter Benjamin: morreu novo, aos 48 anos - parece que o ar puro dos Pirinéus foi demais para ele. Bem haja, senhor Giuliani!)

LINHA ALERTA INTERNETA SEGURA: chamem a polícia

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terça-feira, outubro 16, 2007

 

A violência discreta do contabilismo

Francis Bacon (1909-1992), Painting, 1946, óleo sobre tela, 198cm × 132 cm cm, Museum of Modern Art




IT IS a melancholy object to those who walk through this great town or travel in the country, when they see the streets, the roads, and cabin doors, crowded with beggars of the female sex, followed by three, four, or six children, all in rags and importuning every passenger for an alms. These mothers, instead of being able to work for their honest livelihood, are forced to employ all their time in strolling to beg sustenance for their helpless infants: who as they grow up either turn thieves for want of work, or leave their dear native country to fight for the Pretender in Spain, or sell themselves to the Barbadoes.

I think it is agreed by all parties that this prodigious number of children in the arms, or on the backs, or at the heels of their mothers, and frequently of their fathers, is in the present deplorable state of the kingdom a very great additional grievance; and, therefore, whoever could find out a fair, cheap, and easy method of making these children sound, useful members of the commonwealth, would deserve so well of the public as to have his statue set up for a preserver of the nation.

But my intention is very far from being confined to provide only for the children of professed beggars; it is of a much greater extent, and shall take in the whole number of infants at a certain age who are born of parents in effect as little able to support them as those who demand our charity in the streets.

(...)

I shall now therefore humbly propose my own thoughts, which I hope will not be liable to the least objection.

I have been assured by a very knowing American of my acquaintance in London, that a young healthy child well nursed is at a year old a most delicious, nourishing, and wholesome food, whether stewed, roasted, baked, or boiled; and I make no doubt that it will equally serve in a fricassee or a ragout.

I do therefore humbly offer it to public consideration that of the hundred and twenty thousand children already computed, twenty thousand may be reserved for breed, whereof only one-fourth part to be males; which is more than we allow to sheep, black cattle or swine; and my reason is, that these children are seldom the fruits of marriage, a circumstance not much regarded by our savages, therefore one male will be sufficient to serve four females. That the remaining hundred thousand may, at a year old, be offered in the sale to the persons of quality and fortune through the kingdom; always advising the mother to let them suck plentifully in the last month, so as to render them plump and fat for a good table. A child will make two dishes at an entertainment for friends; and when the family dines alone, the fore or hind quarter will make a reasonable dish, and seasoned with a little pepper or salt will be very good boiled on the fourth day, especially in winter.

I have reckoned upon a medium that a child just born will weigh 12 pounds, and in a solar year, if tolerably nursed, increaseth to 28 pounds.

I grant this food will be somewhat dear, and therefore very proper for landlords, who, as they have already devoured most of the parents, seem to have the best title to the children.

Jonathan Swift (1667-1745), A Modest Proposal: For Preventing the Children of Poor People in Ireland from Being a Burden to Their Parents or Country, and for Making Them Beneficial to the Publick (1729)


Bacon



LINHA ALERTA INTERNETA SEGURA: chamem a polícia

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sexta-feira, outubro 12, 2007

 

The beauty of our weapons





658
00:49:28,507 --> 00:49:30,873
- No haremos planes de fuga.
- øPor quÈ no?

659
00:49:30,943 --> 00:49:34,640
Porque cada nueva persona
que involucramos en esto es un riesgo m·s.

660
00:49:34,813 --> 00:49:37,748
Para salvarnos,
confiemos en que el plan tendr· Èxito.

661
00:49:37,816 --> 00:49:40,785
Pero aunque la bomba tenga Èxito,
existe la posibilidad...

662
00:49:40,852 --> 00:49:45,186
de que el pueblo se vuelva contra nosotros.
Que nos considere asesinos.

663
00:49:45,257 --> 00:49:48,488
Quiz·s la gente se escandalice tanto
que pierda el discernimiento.

664
00:49:48,560 --> 00:49:52,963
Hace unos dÌas, Miguel, te negaste a apostar
sobre la excavaciÛn porque dijiste...

665
00:49:53,265 --> 00:49:57,599
que era inmoral especular
con algo relacionado con los asesinatos.

666
00:49:57,736 --> 00:50:00,933
Bien, no especulemos
con el discernimiento del pueblo.

667
00:50:01,807 --> 00:50:03,604
Eso es m·s inmoral todavÌa.

668
00:50:04,209 --> 00:50:07,406
Huir sÌ serÌa una verg¸enza.

669
00:50:08,280 --> 00:50:10,908
No tenemos derecho
a hacer lo que hacemos...

670
00:50:10,983 --> 00:50:13,315
si no estamos dispuestos
a responder con la vida.

John Huston (1906-1987), We Were Strangers (1949)


LINHA ALERTA INTERNETA SEGURA: chamem a polícia

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quinta-feira, outubro 11, 2007

 

"Thou shall not be afraid for the terror by night"



Alfred Hitchcock (1899-1980), Frenzy (1972)






Murder, mayhem, violence, sex, beautifully, pictorially expressed, lovely costumes, perfect cutting and... a joke or two

Alfred Hitchcock



LINHA ALERTA INTERNETA SEGURA: chamem a polícia

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quarta-feira, outubro 10, 2007

 

SadoMaso

Matthias Grünewald (1470/80 - 1528), Isenheim Altarpiece, The Crucifixion (detail), c. 1515, oil on wood, 269 x 307 cm, Musée d'Unterlinden, Colmar


The killing of Christ injures the being of God.
It looks as if creatures couldn't communicate with their Creator except through a wound that lacerates integrity.
The wound is intended and desired by God.
The humans who did this are not less guilty.
On the other hand, �and this is not the least strange,� the guilt is a wound lacerating the integrity of every guilty being.
In this way God (wounded by human guilt) and human beings (wounded by their own guilt with respect to God), find, if painfully, a unity that seems to be their purpose.
If human beings had kept their own integrity and hadn't sinned, God on one hand and human beings on the other would have persevered in their respective isolation. A night of death wherein Creator and creatures bled together and lacerated each other and on all sides, were challenged at the extreme limits of shame: that is what was required for their communion.

Thus "communication," without which nothing exists for us, is guaranteed by crime. "Communication" is love, and love taints those whom it unites.


In the elevation upon a cross, humankind attains a summit of evil. But it's exactly from having attained it that humanity ceases being separate from God. So clearly the "communication" of human beings is guaranteed by evil. Without evil, human existence would turn in upon itself, would be enclosed as a zone of independence: And indeed an absence of "communication"� empty loneliness �would certainly be the greater evil.

Georges Bataille, Sur Nietzsche (1945)

LINHA ALERTA INTERNETA SEGURA: chamem a polícia

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terça-feira, outubro 09, 2007

 

Bondage

Caravaggio. The Crucifixion of St. Peter, 1600-1601, oil on canvas, Santa Maria del Popolo, Rome


Rosalie et moi, traînées par ces deux scélérats, nous regagnons les appartements ; les portes se ferment. La malheureuse fille de Rodin est attachée aux colonnes d'un lit, et toute la rage de ces furieux se tourne contre moi ; je suis accablée des plus dures invectives, et les plus effrayants arrêts se prononcent ; il ne s'agit de rien moins que de me disséquer toute vive, pour examiner les battements de mon cœur, et faire sur cette partie des observations impraticables sur un cadavre. Pendant ce temps on me déshabille, et je deviens la proie des attouchements les plus impudiques.
- Avant tout, dit Rombeau, je suis d'avis d'attaquer fortement la forteresse que tes bons procédés respectèrent... C'est qu'elle est superbe ! admire donc le velouté, la blancheur de ses deux demi-lunes qui en défendent l'entrée
jamais vierge ne fut plus fraîche.
- Vierge ! mais elle l'est presque, dit Rodin. Une seule fois, malgré elle, on l'a violée, et pas la moindre chose depuis. Cède-moi le poste un instant...

Marquis de Sade (1740 - 1814), Justine ou les Malheurs de la vertu (1791)


LINHA ALERTA INTERNETA SEGURA: chamem a polícia, "Operação Predador"

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quinta-feira, outubro 04, 2007

 

Putas, paneleiros, mulherengos, anarquistas e soldados para África, em Braga, a Idolátrica, ainda antes das brasileiras alugarem a cona em Bragança





E esta que fingiu nunca dar por mim, quando o carro arranca e me deixa esquecido, diz:

- Adeus, meu senhor .

Como quem diz: estavas aí e me viste e me desejaste, e quiseste o meu cono, e fui tua. Nunca mais me verás, fantasma de blusão negro e óculos grossos cara aparvalhada, fica-te, tarrenego!, sei lá quem tu és - não sou para ti.

E eu que era para ela. Outra qualquer. Dentro e fora da memória, fantasma para fantasmas.Vou para a cama. O vinho pesa-me na cabeça. Bebo água fria para desenjoar a gorja. Durmo como um bendito. Acordo no escuro, cedo, 6 ou 5 horas, há um grupo na Pensão que se está a levantar, batem portas. Estou excitadíssimo. O meu homem virá ao encontro? Onde o hei-de meter? Nestes quartos ouve-se tudo.

Abjecção. Remorsos. Decido não ir. Misturo a Deolinda com o António e sem mexer na picha estou quase a vir-me. De repente, tudo é tão violento que tenho de bater uma punheta.

Como a Natureza previu todas as nossas fraquezas e ausências, dotou-nos também com outro caralho para o cu detrás. Meto o dedo (médio?) todo no cu, bato a punheta. E a ejaculação, forte porque há dias que estou sem deitar nada cá para fora, dá-me contracções no esfincter. Gozozíssimas. Venho-me imenso. Estou cada vez mais excitado. Cada passo na escada parece julgo que é o António que vem e me penetra e me obriga a chupar-lhe o delicioso caralho que não vi. Escândalo. Tribunal Militar.Vergonha. Filhos a saberem tudo. Loucura. Suicídio. Tomo meio Calmax. A pouco e pouco a corda vai-se aligeirando, estou melhor. Mas que vontade de ter pecado. De pecar. Como assim: de viver.
Descubro que o êxito e o fracasso são uma e a mesma cadeia e em tudo. O êxito para cima, o fracasso para baixo, e quando digo baixo digo baixo: sujidões, dívidas, vergonhas, podridão, loucura. Mas o que toma tudo igual é que ambas as cadeias se encontram, nada a fazer, meus caros, daqui a cem anos ninguém se lembra.

E a nossa lição-abjecção a quem aproveitará?

Já tanto faz.

Tanto nos faz.

Braga, 16 ou 17 de Outubro, 1961.

Luiz Pacheco, O Libertino Passeia por Braga, a Idolátrica, o Seu Esplendor (1961), 1ª ed. 1970

LINHA ALERTA INTERNETA SEGURA: chamem a polícia

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quarta-feira, outubro 03, 2007

 

Anti-semitas de todo Israel: uni-vos!

Alhambra Decree, also known as the "Edict of Expulsion," March 31, 1492





It is the primary obligation of the [israeli] government to protect Jewish lives. Israel is first and foremost a JEWISH democratic State. It is NOT a non-sectarian, democratic country like the United States. As such, it is absurd for anyone other than Jews to be citizens in the first place! That is why Israel MUST revamp its Constitution making Israel unequivocally a JEWISH State… with NO possibility that any other group will ever become the majority. It is insane to have enemies of the Jewish people living anywhere within its boundaries. So how does Israel put a stop to the explosive Israeli Arab population growth? The same way one puts a stop to a growing cancer… REMOVE IT.

"Israel's Growing Cancer"


We, members of the People's Council, representatives of the Jewish Community of Eretz-Israel and of the Zionist Movement, are here assembled on the day of the termination of the British Mandate over Eretz-Israel and, by virtue of our natural and historic right and on the strength of the resolution of the United Nations General Assembly, hereby declare the establishment of a Jewish state in Eretz-Israel, to be known as the State of Israel.

"The Declaration of the Establishment of the State of Israel", Official Gazette: Number 1; Tel Aviv, 5 Iyar 5708, 14.5.1948 Page 1


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terça-feira, outubro 02, 2007

 

Snuff Post: poems that serial killers don't write



Elizabeth Short’s body, January 15th, 1947, Museum of Death



Oh! Death to Nancy

What is this taht (sic) I can see
Cold icy hands taking hold of me
for Death has come, you all can see.

Hell has open it,s (sic) gate to trick me.

Oh! Death, Oh! Death, can't you spare

me, over for another year!

I'll stuff your jaws till you can't talk
I'll blind (sic) your leg's (sic) till you can't walk
I'll tie your hands till you can't make a
stand.

And finally I'll close your eyes so you
can't see
I'll bring sexual death unto you for me.

B.T.K.
Letter to the police, February 1978



Oh, Anna Why Didn't You Appear

T' was perfect plan of deviant pleasure so bold on that Spring nite

My inner felling hot with propension of the new awakening season

Warn, wet with inner fear and rapture, my pleasure of entanglement, like new vines at night

Oh, Anna, Why Didn't You Appear

Drop of fear fresh Spring rain would roll down from your nakedness to scent to lofty fever that burns within,

In that small world of longing, fear, rapture, and desparation, the game we play, fall on devil ears

Fantasy spring forth, mounts, to storm fury, then winter clam at the end.

Oh, Anna Why Didn't You Appear

Alone, now in another time span I lay with sweet enrapture garments across most private thought

Bed of Spring moist grass, clean before the sun, enslaved with control, warm wind scenting the air, sun light sparkle tears in eyes so deep and clear.

Alone again I trod in pass memory of mirrors, and ponder why for number eight was not.

Oh, Anna Why Didn't You Appear

Letter to Anna Williams, June 1978


"Wanted $2000 Reward", 1923, Philadelphia Museum of Art



Museum of Death, Los Angeles (closed)


LINHA ALERTA INTERNETA SEGURA: chamem a polícia

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segunda-feira, outubro 01, 2007

 

A pequenina e os pepinos / Tender Pussy / Ratitas Chiquititas

Retrato de Ethel Hatch, com 9 anos, pelo Reverendo Charles Dodgson (1832-1898)

"Her admirers - middle-aged men and clergymen - respond to her dubious coquetry, to the sight of her well-shaped and desirable little body"...



Wee Willie Winkie

The owners of a child star are like leaseholders - their property diminishes in value every year. Time's chariot is at their back; before them acres of anonymity. What is Jackie Coogan now but a matrimonialsquabble? Miss Shirley Temple's case, though, has peculiar interest: infancy is her disguise, her appeal is more secret and more adult. Already two years ago she was a fancy little piece (real childhood, I think, went out after "The Littlest Rebel"). In "Captain January" she wore trousers with the mature suggestiveness of a Dietrich: her neat and well-developed rump twisted in the tap-dance; her eyes had a sidelong searching coquetry. Now in "Wee Willie Winkie," wearing short kilts, she is completely totsy. Watch her swaggering stride across the Indian barrack-square; hear the gasp of excited expectation from her antique audience when the sergeant's palm is raised; watch the way she measures a man with agile studio eyes, with dimpled depravity. Adult emotions of love and grief glissade across the mask of childhood, a childhood skin-deep. It is clever, but it cannot last. Her admirers - middle-aged men and clergymen - respond to her dubious coquetry, to the sight of her well-shaped and desirable little body, packed with enormous vitality, only because the safety curtain of story and dialogue drops between their intelligence and their desire. 'Why are you making Mummy cry?' - what could be purer than that? And the scene when dressed in a white nightdress she begs grandpa to take Mummy to a dance - what could be more virginal? On those lines her new picture, made by John Ford, who directed "The Informer," is horrifyingly competent. It isn't hard to stay to the last prattle and the last sob. The story - about an Afghan robber converted by "Wee Willie Winkie" to the British Raj - is a long way after Kipling. But we needn't be sour about that. Both stories are awful, but on the whole Hollywood's is the better.

Graham Greene (1904-1991), "Wee Willie Winkie", Night and Day, 28 October 1937



Cartaz para Wee Willie Winkie (1937), de John Ford

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