High End Sperm Banks 'Sell Foams' to Dissidents of thee WIERD...

Tuesday February 28th, 2006

So Im totally coldwave baked the othernight wandering around the LES and a friend sends me a text message that says 'Hey whatr you doin right now' and I had one of those very rare psychotic gliches I live for when where I for a split second thought it was my nice little Motor-Ola (and everytime I look at little lady 'Ola' my 'glitch' is affirmed) 'speaking' to me and not the lovely human behind the ominous digital words. So I start totally crackin up and I sent a text back to my foam to confront Ms.Ola saying 'what do you mean yr right here with me dahling, are you 'blind' or what???' And as THC so thankfully often keeps the signified at bay, or from 'emBODYing itself' in this case as a fleshy human on the foam, I then got even more freaked out when Ola replied 'What?', making me think that I'd given 2 options and 'What' was the dialectic opposite of 'blind' (i.e. it can 'see') I've always thought my sell foam could only maybe 'see' when I spread her little 'flipfone' legs to turn on the 'camera' function, opening her 'lens', but this made me think I was quite wrong and Ms. Ola (who Ive decided is a very rare Mexican American aristo fashionista to make it hotter) doesn't need to open her legs (or how great 'flip the sell foam', foam being the premonitory semen very rare in such case) to 'see', making me think that when she 'spread open' she is blind... This whole thing totally affirms firstly the brilliant equating of 'texting' with masturbation thats the crux of the new Sprint tv spots (people 'getting caught' alone, typing on the 'foam' held secretly down between their legs, foam here literally suggests that which bursts forth from a successful text session), and second my fave Frenchwave expression for orgasm 'le petite mort', thus the loss of vision, etc... Complicated thing in my LES situ here was i thought the faster technological devices march on (and 'texting' is a radical new step in this process) to 'emBODY' themselves as little subjectivized 'people' like my Texmex friend, the less it mustnot be masturbation but actual intercourse with yr own foam... So as my struggle in life always seems to be preventing the onset of abstraction from deterring from visceral human pleasure, I was thinking if I could stage Lady Ola's (the creator of abstract forces par excellence) suicide i could forever keep her from speaking 'through' (as the very rare modernist literary theorist love to nag 'she always only can') the text (message) and I would thus always necessarily 'feel' the 'person' at the end of the line speaking, 'massaging' me with her 'text-you-all' voice. So I can acheerful WIERD-friendly friend and so very conveniently her roommate answers and says, "Hey Pieter, she's really stoned I think, let me see if she's awake...', 'No, thats cool' I said, 'I'm just gonna 'text' her... So I send her a text that says 'hi dahling, I've died and gone to sell foam heaven, and its really rather lovely.'... She then types back 'killer dude'... Then speaking for both myself and ms.Ola I type 'I tried to kill-her, but she ended up 'offing' me instead!...amazingly then she thought thee offing the very rare 'Petite Mort' sort, and types 'You cleanin up yr mess dahling?'... I then panicked but saved my ass when I realized I could 'switch to becoming 'Ms. Ola', in this case the one in my baked friend's hand- 'Yes dahling, Pieter's bloody intestines are all over the walls, im on my knees bleachin the whole place right now!, ughh'... She then didn't reply so I worried I was freekin her baked brain out, but more importantly I realized I'd fucked up my whole plan to kill the 'abstraction' in Ms.Ola, and once again her supreme intelligence had 'one out' over me, for in trying to stage Ms. Ola's death by switching into her identity (as 'text') I had caused herabstract 'gun to slip', shooting me right through the guts as I WIERDly 'unconsciously' typed... and thus is always thee ways of the WIERD, abstraction lived on, I'm dead and 'SHE's alive' as Lady abstraction always is... Finally Stoney types back so not up for abstract suicide, 'God man yr such a fukin artfag dude!, whatever'...Guess she's right, alone in the abstract darkness where it's so quiet you can't 'here' a thing...very rare...WIERD


Pieter and Glenn spin the mysterious lost coldwaves of Oaxaca!!!
Tuesday, February 28th, 11pm-4am
WIERD @ Southside Lounge
(happy hour and special retrospective of Lyon Coldwave-Gestalt, Lust, Sacrifice, International sin etc.)
41 Broadway(Wythe/Kent), BKNY
J train to Marcy, L to Bedfd