http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/ Normaland - LJ.Rossia.org Wed, 01 Oct 2008 20:17:44 GMT LiveJournal / LJ.Rossia.org http://lj.rossia.org/userpic/154319/7675 http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/ 100 100 http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/26412.html Wed, 01 Oct 2008 20:17:44 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/26412.html <p><strong><font size="4">Вериги в небесата</font></strong></p><br /><p><br><strong><em>"Не хапи ръката, която те храни"<br></em>K. Osmosis / SPK</strong></p><br /><p><img src="http://vogania.com/STORIES/scream.gif"><br>аз в брич ти в кожа мостра<br>не знаели умирали мутирали<br>в стени от хиляди години а<br>в тях ухилените мускули <br>са контрахирали, години са<br>минавали, унивали са в мускуса</p><br /><p><img src="http://brucelabruce.com/photography-porn/images/19.jpg"></p><br /><p><strong><em>by Bruce Labruce</em></strong></p><br /><p>skinboy, имаше време когато<br>без да ни дреме само правихме<br>секс и ненужни деца пиехмe Li<br>между Serox и необезпокоени стени </p><br /><p><img src="http://anarcocks.com/visions/13.jpg"></p><br /><p><strong><em>pierce, jhonn balance &amp; massimo, photo by tim lewis&nbsp; </em></strong></p><br /><p>дошло е време да придойдат дивите момчета<br>предвождам ги в триъгълника<br>на страстта - аз съм последният им<br>оцелял езически спермодарител</p><br /><p>веригите препускат от стените - <br>долу аз облакътен върху стъклото<br>горе ти яздиш въздуха и ме препускаш</p><br /><p><img src="http://brucelabruce.com/photography-glamour/images/02.jpg"></p><br /><p><strong><em>By Bruce Labruce</em></strong></p><br /><p>от небето към ануса ми стреляш <br>умишлено пропускаш и галиш на телото<br>стеблото - пънкарският ми гребен </p><br /><p>обесват влъхвите червените момчета<br>на бог кометите обстрелват червените ни нощи<br>във люлката опъва брича, вилнее бицепсът ти <br>предназначено да отрича е съществото ти в писмото ми</p><br /><p>решавайте: исус, христос, или едип? не - кали юга?</p><br /><p><img src="http://www.powerhousebooks.com/thumbs/LostBoys-NoLove-450.jpg"></p><br /><p><strong><em>by Slava Mogutin</em></strong></p><br /><p>разтапяш и възпяваш ми пластмасовото тяло<br>кометите прокарват електроди в пластмасова уста<br>милиарди планети изреждат еднаквите си имена в мен<br>наказан съм да произнасям имената на всички хомозиготи</p><br /><p>но това е само началото</p><br /><p><img src="http://images.prophotos.ru/a4/eb/a4ebe5c5d14ef28fa6f3f1eb97da205b_article_0.jpg"></p><br /><p><strong><em>by Slava Mogutin</em></strong></p><br /><p>за да се измъкна от кожената люлка ми е нужно<br>да намажа небето със сперма и херма и мерма <br>ти си препускал във мене 500 години<br>а почвата под нас е знаела че <br>тишината ни е невъзможна </p><br /><p><img src="http://anarcocks.com/silence___.jpg">&nbsp;</p><br /><p><strong><em>Artowork For Massimo &amp; Pierce's The Impossibility Of Silence</em></strong></p><br /><p><br>сега докато си във мен капитулирай ме<br>във вила тристе опаши ме с надуваемия ореол<br>около кръста и ме катапултирай с люлката<br>с разтворени обятия в които се вижда <br>на моят skinboy исус-пусито </p><br /><p><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3031/2690112257_98d980c27d.jpg?v=0"></p><br /><p><strong><em>by Slava Mogutin</em></strong></p><br /><p>изкачвам - бидейки твой коленичил роб в небето - <br>марципановата стълба - влачи ме боже влачи ме <br>идвам при теб виж ме нося ти в устата си алба кандидоза</p><br /><p><br>само за теб, боже - аз съм син на исус<br>заради теб, боже - аз съм братът на раел<br>без теб, боже - аз съм гръбнакът на платон </p><br /><p><img src="http://www.vvork.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/11/4.jpg">&nbsp; <img src="http://www.vvork.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/11/91.jpg"></p><br /><p><strong><em>“Big Finish” and “Delivery Dawgz” by </em></strong><a href="http://briankenny.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><strong><em>Brian Kenny</em></strong></a><strong><em> and </em></strong><a href="http://www.slavamogutin.com/superm_collages/index.htm" target="_blank"><strong><em>Slava Mogutin</em></strong></a></p><br /><p>идваме умножени по 300 милиона решени<br>веригите на конспирацията да отрежем<br>с триона: вече ние ще налагаме в<br>анаркадия на исус тленний закона!</p><br /><p><img src="http://img0.liveinternet.ru/images/attach/b/3/16/614/16614432_1201897491_men_1.jpg"></p><br /><p><strong><em>by Slava Mogutin</em></strong></p><br /><p>и ето се спускат надолу под люлката <br>прегърнати в грес и вериги 300 милиона!</p><br /><p>отпреде джеф страйкър мадона роко сифреди<br>сега това е на удоволствието закона <br>заповядай боже-исусе в купона към<br>вечният мир на курвата-мадона</p><br /><p><img src="http://thighpaulsandra.com/images/archive/dv1/08DSCN0015.jpg"></p><br /><p><strong><em>From Thighpaulsandra's Double Vulgar Photo Session</em></strong></p><br /><p>сега стените са и твои <br>сега веригите са мои</p><br /><p>боже погали ме по пънкарския гребен<br>виж се сега в люлката какъв си скинар до <br>мен - полегнал пънкар - със сърце - непотребен<br>във кожи прилепнали готвим вериги и страсти <br>за исус: просто готвим небето в скат и молебен</p><br /><p><img src="http://thighpaulsandra.com/images/archive/dv1/0505%20Siontest.jpg"></p><br /><p><strong><em>From Thighpaulsandra's Double Vulgar Photo Session</em></strong></p><br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/26412.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/103/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/26412.html verses Black Sun Productions - Wenn Ich Mir Was Wunsche Durfte calm http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/25950.html Sat, 30 Aug 2008 17:45:36 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/25950.html Кукленият театър е прогерия<br /><br />Той кукловодът всичко каза и направи <br />прииждат старци виждам ги през<br />оптиката на щика ми <br />ще ги набучат по кабуки на опърлена <br />решетка от електро-сплав<br />услужливо решена в стил<br />инсталация за страх без страха<br /><br />и режисьорът виждам да изчезва в будоара<br />по буто ще ги наведат да лижат отрязаните им копита <br />хиляди страци маршируват към гроба на кант<br />там им строят една финална икебана за<br />колективно но банално сепуку<br />в градина на смъртта<br /><br />градинарят на шега е отредил:<br />орхидеи крещят и ще крещят<br /><br />без безискрена дефлорация <br />без докторска инфибулация<br />без претенциозна хистеректомия<br />без екзотична сервилна пурда и<br /><br />хипертелия<br />хипертелия<br />хипертелия<br />хипертелия<br /><br />ето така те ще клекнат в тази режисьорска помия <br />лъжици стрихнин па до дьо за ми минор във чиния<br /><br />светът потъва цял в помия<br />светът потъва цял в помия<br />светът потъва цял в помия<br />светът потъва цял в помия<br /><br />мелатонин артроза протези ченета <br />само за тия пожелали да лижат <br />своята младост в чиния и да<br />потънат цели в нея до шия<br /><br />ето така на тепсия старчоци падат връз кант<br />и ония които не могат да ползват ръцете си <br />без фиксатори невролептик и протетика <br />трябва налага се да се изпикаят <br /><br />върху детската им сенилна етика <br />без да се каят за кант<br />и за окнчателната икебана<br />подредена от кукловода-йерофант<br /><br />ето на тия невръстни старчоци<br />подаряват стави палци плупит<br />нов буратино стар буратино<br />арлекин на пепит арлекин със артрит<br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/25950.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/101/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/25950.html verses Bjork - Wanderlist calm http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/25798.html Fri, 08 Aug 2008 07:50:27 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/25798.html Още един опит правя за превод на доста субтилните текстове на Диаманда.<br><br>***<br><br><font size="4"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Заръки от Мъртвите</span></font> <font size="4">(2003)</font><br><br style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Диаманда Галас</span><br><br><br>СВЕТЪТ ИЗБУХВА В ПЛАМЪЦИ<br>СВЕТЪТ ИЗБУХВА В ПЛАМЪЦИ<br>СВЕТЪТ ИЗБУХВА В ПЛАМЪЦИ<br>СВЕТЪТ ИЗБУХВА В ПЛАМЪЦИ<br><br><lj-cut text="диаманда"><br />Но тези пламъци НЕ са непознати<br>За НАШИТЕ мъртви <br>НАШИТЕ мъртви изреваха последната си молитва в тия пламъци <br>Нашите мъртви доизпяха последната си приспивна в тия пламъци <br>Нашите мъртви се примолиха на нашия неверен БОГ в тия пламъци <br><br />Нашите мъртви прошепнаха последно сбогом на майка си В ТИЯ ПЛАМЪЦИ<br><br>СВЕТЪТ ИЗБУХВА В ПЛАМЪЦИ<br><br>НАШИТЕ мъртви сграбчиха чадата си наблизо <br>СВЕТЪТ ИЗБУХВА В ПЛАМЪЦИ<br><br>НАШИТЕ мъртви гледаха дъщерите си <br><br />ИЗНАСИЛЕНИ И ПРЕБИТИ <br>в застинолото жарене на ТИЯ ПЛАМЪЦИ <br><br>НАШИТЕ мъртви гледаха как една секира отстранява<br>черепа на майка им <br>и коронясва дървен шиш <br>в продължаващата жар на ТИЯ ПЛАМЪЦИ <br><br>НАШИТЕ мъртви гледаха докато Хризотомови <br><br />очи и език бяха изскубвани,<br>зъби и пръсти - чупени, един по един, <br>в смеха и радостта НА ТИЯ ПЛАМЪЦИ <br><br>НАШИТЕ МЪРТВИ гледаха сестрите си напоени с бензин<br>и да крещят със стопяваща се кожа <br>"СВЕТЪТ ИЗБУХВА В ПЛАМЪЦИ"<br><br /><br>НАШИТЕ МЪРТВИ породиха турските победи <br>бълбукащата и умиращата плячка,<br>на щик бележещ границите на <br>СВЕТЪТ КОЙТО ИЗБУХВА В ПЛАМЪЦИ<br><br>НАШИТЕ МЪРТВИ БЯХА ВЛАЧЕНИ В ПОХОДИ<br>ПОД ПУСТИННОТО СЛЪНЦЕ<br>ЦЕЛИ СЕДМИЦИ ДОДЕТО СЛЪНЦЕТО НЕ ПРОГОРИ ДРОБОВЕТЕ ИМ<br><br /><br>и когато пустинното слънце което ги подпалваше като пламъци<br>нацепи устните им, ние чухме последната молитва <br>ГОСПОДИ БОЖЕ ИМАЙ МИЛОСТ НАД ДУШИТЕ НИ ГОСПОДИ<br><br>Те видяха как СВЕТЪТ ИЗБУХВА В ПЛАМЪЦИ<br>погребани,още не мъртви в ямите <br><br />гравирани:<br><br>"ГЯУРИ, НЕВЕРНИЦИ:<br>НАШИЯТ БОГ ИЗБРА ДА УМРЕТЕ"<br><br>И тогава проклетите мъртви ни заръчаха да ви кажем:<br><br>ТОВА е моят ГРОБ, МОЕТО СВЯТО ЛОЖЕ<br>НЕ МОЖЕТЕ да го заемете<br><br>НЕ можете ДА ИЗЛИЧИТЕ МОЕТО ИМЕ<br><br />НЕ можете ДА ИЗЛИЧИТЕ НАШИТЕ МЪРТВИ<br><br>НЕ МОЖЕТЕ ДА ИЗЛИЧИТЕ МЪРТВИТЕ<br>Защото днес ни беше заръчано<br>да изброим имената им, номерата им, <br><br>да предоставим рожденната им дата, земният им град,<br>бащиното им име, сладостта <br><br />на майчините им очи<br><br>СБОГОМ<br><br>СБОГОМ<br><br>СБОГОМ<br><br>и вовеки <br>Ще се видим когато пустинята срещне небето<br>Но не ЗАБРАВЯЙТЕ МОЕТО ИМЕ<br><br>И ето тия са заръките от мъртвите <br>казани без слово но с последен взор: <br><br /><br>СЕКУНДАТА<br><br>дарена на Неверника<br><br>понеже един Неверен Ад<br>НЕ трябва да изисква ни молитва<br>Не трябва да изисква стихнал миг <br><br>И вече на неверника се каза<br>да забрави и прости <br>за да разбере: <br><br /><br>Въздигни се в рай на Мъртви Спомени,<br>на Живи Мъртви, Домът на Старите Другари<br>на Кататония<br>на Лудост<br>и Отчаяние. <br><br>"Не ме питай за НОМЕРА на този Гроб:<br>Той бе откраднат."<br><br>"Каква Е таз любов за кости и боклук?<br><br />Сложи този древен предмет зад тебе, Невернико&nbsp; <br><br>ТИ НЯМАШ право на БОГ <br>ТИ НЯМАШ право на ПОКОЙ<br>ТИ НЯМАШ право на РАДОСТ<br><br>ТИ НЯМАШ ПРАВО<br><br>ТИ НЯМАШ ПРАВО<br><br>ТИ НЯМАШ ПРАВО<br><br>ГЯУРИ!!!!<br><br><br />Помни&nbsp; как едва сполучила, Сатанинска спермо, <br>си ти: <br>дори да БЪДЕШ<br>жива. <br><br>СЕГА!<br><br>ТУК!<br><br>ОТТАМ МОРЕТО!<br><br>ГЯУР!<br><br>Ти НЯМАШ Бог.<br><br>Човек без Бог<br>Не могат да го изгорят ЖИВ<br>Той никога не е БИЛ жив,<br><br /><br>не като ЧОВЕК, гяурино, <br>а като КУЧЕ."<br><br>[ПАУЗА]<br><br>НО АЗ НОСЯ заръки от Мъртвите<br>които ме предупреждават:&nbsp; <br><br>"НЕ МЕ ЗАБРАВЯЙ:<br>Моята кръв ще изпълни въздуха който дишаш<br>ЗАВИНАГИ." <br><br /><br>"МОЯТ ЧАСОВОЙ Не е МЪРТЪВ<br><br>ТОЙ НОСИ ВСИЧКИТЕ МИ ЗЪБИ: <br><br>УСМИВКАТА МИ НА НЕОПРОЩЕНИЕ,<br><br>СМЕХЪТ МИ! <br><br>ВЪРКОЛАК!<br><br>Аз съм разровеният човек <br>който НЕ МОЖЕ да заспи<br>НА ЧЕТИРИЙСЕТ ПАРЧЕНЦА!!!!!<br><br /><br>Аз съм момичето,<br>разчленено <br>и проклето,<br><br>Аз съм отворената уста<br>която влачи твоята плът <br>и не ще се спре<br><br>додето <br><br>СМЪРТТА МИ НЕ Е НАПИСАНА<br>НА СКАЛА КОЯТО НЕ <br>МОЖЕ ДА БЪДЕ<br>РАЗБИТА!"<br><br /><br>Ето тия са заръките <br>от Мъртвите. <br><br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/25798.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/100/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/25798.html Nurse With Wound - To the Quiet Men From A Tiny Girl awake http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/25189.html Thu, 19 Jun 2008 15:02:16 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/25189.html отдавам се на тяло без основи, глас, глава<br />отказвам се от психика, душа, и хороскоп<br />изтривам погребалните покани, файлове<br />изчезвам от аплети, файлове, хтмл-и<br />намирам най-непохватни изражения<br />навирам този стих в устата му<br />отrичам всяка спекулация <br />изисквам силна тишина<br />нахълтвам си отзад<br />и тъй взривявам<br />този амфи<br />брах ий<br /><br />аз ставам некрономикон и викам: <br />надценявай смъртта, смачкай живота<br />просто няма кой да умре вместо себе си<br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/25189.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/98/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/25189.html verses Yann Tiersen - L'homme aux bras ballants melancholy http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/24921.html Mon, 16 Jun 2008 13:58:40 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/24921.html The role of the signifier here is of no crucial importance because it is already thought of and accounted for. The Depression, then, is the stage where the complex in question is in its sepulchre and there is no possibility to revive, hence all the conditions of speaking for this problems are eviscerated nearly the way the conditions for speaking of fascisms are eviscerated, while the media nowadays sadistically ask the Academia to do a little favour to the already death societies of control (and their suicidal tendencies) that in fact no longer exist as societies and not even as tribal economies, but as mass-killers of truth. Accordingly, the fascisized publicity feels a huge responsibility to be on the TV and to speak of the problems enounced by people that do not care about the very same problems announced: hence their denouncing. That is why there is no wonder that both the Academia and Societies (of control, control, control) are now mutually disappointed and depressed by each other while ascribing responsibility to the allegedly autonomous Academias through the S/M of dispersive and spectacular fake know-hows of living. - The sepulchre for the complex-in-question is there. The complex-in-question is named and suffocated, stuffed in the sepulchre that is out of question. The sepulchre and the fascist there speak to the dead societies of control form the very same sepulchre. If the complex-in-question inside the sepulchre is alive or not, is not to be thought of. <br /><br />...<br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/24921.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/97/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/24921.html theory Passenger of Shit working http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/24814.html Mon, 16 Jun 2008 13:29:57 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/24814.html <p>Whaaa: an Australian invasion this Friday in Sofia. Awaesome noise-production to follow at 8th Ball.</p><br /><p>Passenger of Shit, Justice Yeldham, and... Gokkun!</p><br /><p>Here is one of the acts of Passenger of Shit, part of the line-up:</p><br /><p><strong><font size="4">Passenger Of Shit VS Dysphemic - When The Shit Hits The Fans</font></strong></p><br /><p><img title="Passenger Of Shit vs Dysphemic - When The Shit Hits The Fans [2004]" alt="Passenger Of Shit vs Dysphemic - When The Shit Hits The Fans [2004]" src="http://forum.gabber.od.ua/pics2/pffsv2.jpg"></p><br /><p><strong>Tracklisting:<br></strong><br /><table cellspacing="2" cellpadding="2" border="0"> <tbody> <tr> <td nowrap="noWrap" align="left">A1</td> <td align="right"><a href="http://www.discogs.com/artist/Dysphemic">Dysphemic</a> </td> <td>Search And Destroy</td></tr> <tr> <td nowrap="noWrap" align="left">A2</td> <td align="right"><a href="http://www.discogs.com/artist/Dysphemic">Dysphemic</a> </td> <td>Untitled</td></tr> <tr> <td nowrap="noWrap" align="left">A3</td> <td align="right"><a href="http://www.discogs.com/artist/Dysphemic">Dysphemic</a> </td> <td>Wave Of Terror</td></tr> <tr> <td nowrap="noWrap" align="left">A4</td> <td align="right"><a href="http://www.discogs.com/artist/Dysphemic">Dysphemic</a> </td> <td>Visual Hallucination</td></tr> <tr> <td nowrap="noWrap" align="left">B1</td> <td align="right"><a href="http://www.discogs.com/artist/Passenger+Of+Shit">Passenger Of Shit</a> </td> <td>Dum Melody Intro</td></tr> <tr> <td nowrap="noWrap" align="left">B2</td> <td align="right"><a href="http://www.discogs.com/artist/Passenger+Of+Shit">Passenger Of Shit</a> </td> <td>Glue Sniffing</td></tr> <tr> <td nowrap="noWrap" align="left">B3</td> <td align="right"><a href="http://www.discogs.com/artist/Passenger+Of+Shit">Passenger Of Shit</a> </td> <td>Dum Trak #7</td></tr> <tr> <td nowrap="noWrap" align="left">B4</td> <td align="right"><a href="http://www.discogs.com/artist/Passenger+Of+Shit">Passenger Of Shit</a> </td> <td>Sliding In My Vagina</td></tr></tbody></table></p><br /><p>dnld: <a href="http://rapidshare.de/files/39735340/Passenger_Of_Shit_vs._Dysphemic_-_When_The_Shit_Hits_The_Fans.rar.html" target="_blank">http://rapidshare.de/files/39735340/Pass<wbr />enger_Of_Shit_vs._Dysphemic_-_When_The_S<wbr />hit_Hits_The_Fans.rar.html</a></p><br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/24814.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/96/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/24814.html music Gokkun working http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/24506.html Fri, 05 Oct 2007 02:06:15 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/24506.html WerBegan::://Fire+Off.commTzunamiWarz/s<br />Let All The Illnessess go. Let My People Go.<br />CauzeWeSay =&gt; PeopleOvCntrl: FUCK YOU!.. <br />Fuck You In Thy Column You<br />In Thy Holy Black Hyle<br />Inz Thy Unruly Golden Hole<br />Inz Thy Sarurnzreturnzaliasez<br />&_WE lvdyou<br />but itz in da Paztt<br />cut & pst all thy postz<br />it's all over the place all and all<br /><br />post-everything<br /><br />x-sta<br /><br />:-{}<br /><br />s/z<br /><br />:-P]<br /><br />f(x)<br /><br />are,<br /><br />s.<br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/24506.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/95/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/24506.html verses PsyChic TV: Bregenz bitchy http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/24304.html Sun, 30 Sep 2007 10:40:09 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/24304.html "she's out of control, kevin!"<br /><br />:-p]]<br /><br />are<br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/24304.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/94/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/24304.html Astro+Prism - Live @ The Red House Sofia June 2006 bitchy http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/23948.html Sun, 30 Sep 2007 03:36:43 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/23948.html <font size="6"><span style="font-weight: bold;">And I Say: People Ov Control - Fuck You!</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"></font><br><img src="http://emc.elte.hu/%7Emetropolis/9703/gal9.gif"><br><br><br>[+++]<br><br><p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><font face="Times New Roman" size="4">В болницата (преди <br />Феликс Гатари)</font><font size="4">&nbsp;<br></font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3"><span style="font-weight: bold;">а)</span> стъпки на насилието</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">малки ранени мечета <br />(едно метално във устата ми</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">и подарено ми от <br />дамата във черно)</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">- плюшени преди,</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">сега разровени <br />и иманенти болки</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">в ахроматичните <br />покои на Бащата.</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">загърнати от спазъм <br />на стомашно недоволство</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">едното влезе с <br />пръст във перушината</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">на другото – разручкване <br />взаимно,</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">ритъм на садизъм <br />– песен малко преди</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">личния ти мазохизъм.</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Бащата, загръщайки <br />растенията с приказки</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">и с уханната си <br />гръд – сред шепнещата кал и проста пръст,</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">мечетата ядяха <br />хляб с ядосаните мишки </font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">“в смъртта сред <br />царевицата”.</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">мечетата, ядейки <br />нисшата ръжда на своето съдилище</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">си закачиха перушините <br />и заобядваха</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3"><i>съблечени</i>.</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">температурта опъва <br />кожата изкуствена</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">и перушинките докато <br />скачат от високо по-високо</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">и притреперват <br />малки слабосилни и пулсиращи жили:</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">ядяха, прегръщаха <br />царевицата белейки листата</font>&nbsp;<br><br /></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3"><span style="font-weight: bold;">б)</span> стъпки на логиката</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">когато се разраснаха <br />листата на спиралите</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">тогава пак започнаха <br />да гледат непрогледните очи </font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">с очи “в смъртта <br />на царевицата”</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">когато се яде </font>&nbsp;<br><br /></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">инстинктът – лекарят</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">тимостимулаторът <br />– нормотиминът</font>&nbsp;<br></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">тогава се умира</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">от сънотворни болести.</font>&nbsp;<br><br /></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">когато с дистанционното <br />устройство наръгвам плюшените </font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">вътрешности на <br />имитирания организъм (мое малко</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">метално мече, подадено <br />в добрата ми уста)</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3"> - организъм сега, <br />приравнен с робот,</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">тогава се заравя <br />лошата глава във рохкото</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">яйце на почвата</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">когато е заровено <br />расте си примирено чудото на моята глава</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">тогава ужким знам, <br />че съм роден под моя знак</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">от лудите – противници <br />на</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">собствените мои <br />корени.</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">и ужким знам, че <br />съм роден във нечия прегръдка</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">и ничие съществувание <br />не е изтръгвало ненакърнимото:</font></p><br /><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">неизтръгваемото, <br />изровеното ми, низвергнато сърце от плюш.</font> <br><br>[%%%]<br><font face="Times New Roman" size="3"><br>Никога повече влакове</font><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Няма ги обичайните <br />духове</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Вдъхновението <br />изчезна</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Никога вече часовници</font>&nbsp;<br><br /></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Още не на старостта</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Не, че всичко е <br />сторено</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Но все пак аз знам</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Че когато днес <br />се събудя</font>&nbsp;<br></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Ще стана, ще легна, <br />ще глътна</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Смъртта с тази <br />нейна банална съблазън</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">И пак ще се умира, <br />така,</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Заради изчакването <br />на смъртта така,</font>&nbsp;<br></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Сякаш всичко е <br />едно </font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">и също вчера</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Моя любов</font>&nbsp;<br><br /></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Ето аз дъвча стрелките</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">На часовника</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Яж и ти </font>&nbsp;<br><br /></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Пак съм дете и ти <br />казвам:</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Вече не на детството</font>&nbsp;<br><br /></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Предлагано вчера</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">От вчера за </font></p><br /><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">днес</font>&nbsp;<br></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">&lt;***&gt;</font> <br></p><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Вратата е пред <br />мен</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Обтегната</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Вратата е</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Пред мен</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Но аз не съм зад <br />нея</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">А там зад нея има <br />един</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">Квадрат – и едно <br />слънце –</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">“само смънце и <br />смет, смет и слънце”</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">слънцето идва при <br />мен</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">подминава</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">дефецира</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">осира </font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">ме</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">само и само да мине <br />през вратата</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">за да бъде зад мен <br />за да бъда </font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">достигнат надмогнат <br />подминат</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">но той иска желае <br />изисква моето двуличие и</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">аз пак непоканен <br />се чувствам</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">приканен през нея <br />да мина</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">и той триумфира <br />винаги</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">винаги</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">винаги</font>&nbsp;<br><br /></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">но разбира се няма <br />никакъв праг</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">тук има само един <br />робот-педераст</font></p><br /><p><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">със сърце за изтръгване</font>&nbsp;<br><br /></p><br /><font face="Times New Roman" size="3">[::]::***::0<span style="font-style: italic;">+</span>0::=0[...</font><br><br style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">S</span>.<br><br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/23948.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/93/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/23948.html verses Goldie - Temper Temper awake http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/23482.html Tue, 18 Sep 2007 22:39:22 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/23482.html <br><img src="http://churchofeuthanasia.org/graphics/coe_330x200.gif"><br><br>The One Commandment:<br><br /> <a href="http://churchofeuthanasia.org/snuffit3/prayer.html">"Thou shalt not procreate"</a><br><br><br /> The Four Pillars:<br><br /> <a href="http://ash.spaink.net/">suicide</a> · <br /> <a href="http://churchofeuthanasia.org/snuffit4/abortion.html">abortion</a><br><br /> <a href="http://churchofeuthanasia.org/e-sermons/butcher.html">cannibalism</a> · <br /> <a href="http://churchofeuthanasia.org/snuffit2/lifewater.html">sodomy</a><br><br><br><img src="http://churchofeuthanasia.org/graphics/ranstick.cgi"><br><br><b>SIX BILLION HUMANS CAN'T BE WRONG</b><br /><br /><p>The world revolves around me.<br><br />What I want.<br><br />I want...<br><br />A cigarette.<br><br />A beer.<br><br />A baby.<br><br />A new car.<br><br />Throw it away.<br><br />Where's my lunch?<br><br />The world revolves around me.<br><br />Me me me me me.<br><br />Everyone agrees with me.<br /><br /></p><p>We'll never stop living this way.<br><br />Six billion humans can't be wrong.<br><br />We'll never stop living this way.<br><br />Six billion humans can't be wrong.<br><br />We'll never stop living this way.<br><br />Six billion humans can't be wrong.<br><br />We'll never stop living this way.<br><br />Six billion humans can't be wrong.<br><br />One world, one shit.<br /><br /></p><p>The world revolves around me.<br><br />A beer.<br><br />A cigarette.<br /><br /></p><p>Everyone agrees everyone agrees<br><br />Everyone agrees everyone agrees<br><br />Everyone agrees everyone agrees<br><br />Everyone agrees with me.<br><br />Six six six six six six billion humans.<br><br />We'll never stop we'll never stop<br><br />We'll never stop we'll never stop<br><br />We'll never stop we'll never stop<br><br />We'll never stop we'll never stop<br><br />Living this way.<br><br />Six six six six six six billion humans.<br><br />Everyone agrees we'll never stop<br><br />Everyone agrees we'll never stop<br><br />Everyone agrees we'll never stop<br><br />Everyone agrees we'll never stop<br><br />Everyone agrees we'll never stop<br><br />Everyone agrees.<br><br />Six six six six six six billion humans.<br><br />A new car.<br /><br /></p><p>A new car.<br><br />Six billion humans.<br><br />Waaaaah. A baby. Six billion humans.<br><br />Waaaaah. A baby. Six billion humans.<br><br />Waaaaah. A baby. Six billion humans.<br><br />Waaaaah. A baby. Six billion humans.<br /><br /></p><p>What I want.<br><br />The world revolves around me.<br><br />Everyone agrees with me.<br><br />What I want. A baby.<br><br />Six billion humans can't be wrong.<br><br />What I want.<br><br />The world revolves around me.<br><br />Everyone agrees with me.<br><br />What I want. A baby.<br><br />Six billion humans can't be wrong.<br /><br /></p><p>What I want. Everyone agrees with me.<br><br />What I want can't be wrong.<br><br />What I want. Everyone agrees with me.<br><br />What I want can't be wrong.<br><br />What I want. Everyone agrees with me.<br><br />What I want can't be wrong.<br><br />What I want. Everyone agrees with me.<br><br />What I want can't be wrong.<br><br />One world, one shit. <br></p><span style="font-style: italic;">Lyrics by Rev. Chris Korda</span><br style="font-style: italic;"><p>source: <a href="http://churchofeuthanasia.org/catalog/sixlyr.html">http://churchofeuthanasia.org/catalog/s<wbr />ixlyr.html</a><br></p><br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/23482.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/91/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/23482.html Chris Korda & The Church of Euthanasia - Save The Planet Kill Yourself determined http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/23045.html Tue, 18 Sep 2007 21:33:53 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/23045.html <span style="font-weight: bold;">::Palestine::Air Space::Arab Jerusalem::Nasa-Arab::WrimWramWrom::</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br><img src="http://epitonic.com/art/artists/muslimgauze/arabquarter_cover250.jpg"><br><br><span style="font-weight: bold;">Muslimgauze: Arab Quartet</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><font size="3"><br></font><span class="songtitle"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Anti Arab Media Censor, part 1</span><br><br /></span><br /><span class="smallLinkCaps"></span><span class="smallLinkCaps"><a>DOWNLOAD MP3</a></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br><br><span class="songtitle"><span style="font-style: italic;">Arab Jerusalem</span><br><br /></span><br /><span class="smallLinkCaps"></span><span class="smallLinkCaps"><a>DOWNLOAD MP3</a></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br><br>(<a href="http://epitonic.com/index.jsp?refer=http%3A%2F%2Fepitonic.com%2Falbums%2Farabquarter.html">http://epitonic.com/index.jsp?refer=ht<wbr />tp%3A%2F%2Fepitonic.com%2Falbums%2Farabq<wbr />uarter.html</a>)<br><br>***<br><br><font face="Times New Roman" size="3"><b>On air space. </b>We have to think of, we have to know that all the <br />Airbuses that fly over, that indeed fly over and bypass the literality <br />and the trans-continentality and its transversals of both the non-lived <br />modernity and the “outlived” postmodernity themselves, are but the <br />despotic flight of no return and it is in this sense that the movie <br />of Grimonprez is didactically instructive when it comes to “terror <br />and hijacking” of the western phalogocratic airplanes that are thus <br />feminized.&nbsp; For with each and every flight the west serves its <br />death drive. Yes, it is even worse: those who fly over America, the <br />so-called East-West Coast connections, the so-called Fly-Over-America, <br />they know not what they do (Zizek is also useful here again); they know <br />not that they are the post-modern whores of Hegel; they know not that <br />the only flight for a non-fascist postmodernity, in this context, lies <br />in taking the flight to Palestine for which one is to fight and LOVE, <br />and for Israel, who is to be respected in its continuing post-WWII abjections. <br />The only logical Hegelian contradiction here is the airplane industry. <br />- Somewhere between New York City and Palestine is the virtual-actual <br />transcontinental trajectory of the <i>academico-activist transversality</i> <br />to defy fascizations of present-day realities of universities, universality, <br />and the transversality itself (which is yet to come). The airplanes <br />here are but a means to an end, and they have to be used precisely as <br />weapons, as Thaemlitz succinctly discloses in 1999, as Grimonperz very <br />well observed in 1997. They have to be thought of as pornographic mirroring <br />(61), they are indeed the real a-semiotic signifier for the Institution <br />and its erectile dysfunction. What else was the sublimity (and the whole <br />post-9/11 sacri-architectural sublimation) henceforth? What else than <br />the outward penetration of the auto-immunized discourse of the West <br />– this is no metaphor, really. Just look at the website of The Church <br />of Euthanasia, a Boston-based, perhaps half-legal organization who are <br />very right indeed to think of and <i>present</i> the 9/11 hoax as pornographic <br />inscription and argued resistance <i>in totally literal <br />pornographic terms</i> without any <i>place</i> for metaphorizing (62).&nbsp; </font><br><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">On Islamophobia&amp;Fascism.</span> <font face="Times New Roman" size="3">It has to be <br />said that there is a direct link between so-called Islamophobia and <br />fascist universities. Islam is not phoné-matic but mediated by media <br />and its pre<i>dict</i>able mediocrity and “Platonist” ownership <br />of knowledge. - This very <i>same</i> (hence “true”) process of <br />universalizing universities through the (Bologna) Process of institutionalizing/uni<i>vers</i>itizing <br />an (fascist) architectural, arche-fascist universality means directly <br />one singular and very simple Ding: that the Bologna Process, the one <br />that stem out of Mussolinist <i>Italy</i>, for the last ten years was <br />and is just a haphazard loosely labeled pro(mp)to-fascist process of <br />an “anti-terrorist” and in actuality real-terrorist <i>hijacking</i> <br />of Universality (17) and a subjugation of the University, thus making <br />it a subjugated group, in terms of Guattari’s talk about subjugation <br />and the subject. I.e., there is no establishment of the conditions for <br />a new exercise of desire for some forms of micro-politics of desire <br />that potentially might have whatever autonomous life(-forms). “In <br />this case, it is no longer a simple question of describing pre-existing <br />social objects, but one of engaging all machines of the dominant power, <br />whether it be the power of the bourgeois State, the power of any kind <br />of bureaucracy, the power of academia, familial power, phallocratic <br />power in male/female relationships, or even the repressive power of <br />the super-ego over the individual” (18). That repression is not at <br />stake here, when we try to think of fascism, is somewhat obvious: and <br />because it is obvious, one is tempted to, invited to think of repression <br />in such a way so that one becomes truly self-repressive while becoming <br />a minion of the Signifier and its unrestrained fascist Dictatorship <br />of so-called freedom (19). This dictatorship is at least as obvious <br />– its alternative form of a-semiotic signification processes is something <br />else and here we have to still try to think of (20) - since the fascization <br />of universality is merging as obvious too. The work in this direction <br />was done by others in a multiplicity of politicized (or not) view-points <br />(21). The universalist-universitarian Bologna fascization of universality <br />speaks to us in the only possible way: by way of flogging a dead horse <br />whose part one is supposed to play while being already dead. Not only <br />that the dead horse can not drain any powers form any allegedly repressive <br />sources; the sources themselves here, the ones of the so-called political <br />are eviscerated (think of Mamardashvili and his “eviscerated objects”). <br />The conditions for any given material of the political are as suffocated <br />as the so-called imaginary content of the political (which then is integrated <br />into the non-governmental) and who is downright made to disappear in <br />a very aesthetic manner. Singularity is for the One, while universality <br />is reserved for political fascism. </font><br><br>(From my forthcoming study <span style="font-style: italic;">On Facism and Universities</span>, in: identities.org.mk)<br><br><br>***<br><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">::Albumze::Terrorere::Deriderre::</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">::Die Wolfe Kommen Zuruck::::::::::Sodomare120::</span><br><br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/23045.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/90/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/23045.html theory Muslimgauze - Citadel working http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/22399.html Sun, 09 Sep 2007 02:03:56 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/22399.html <span style="font-weight: bold;">Foucault: "My Body, This Paper, This Fire..."&nbsp; </span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br><img src="http://3quarksdaily.blogs.com/3quarksdaily/images/foucault.jpg"><br><br>for Foucault, Derrida, for Derrida, Foucault<br><br /><br><br />A Reading by René Descartes<br><br /><br><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "I would be tempted to consider Foucault's book ... a Cartesian gesture for the twentieth century." -Jacques <br></span><br>Derrida<br><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br><span style="font-weight: bold;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Derrida is continuing the Cartesian exclusion." </span></span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br>Michel Foucault<br><br /><br><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 2002.05.08@17:34 $ xxx says Have you read Foucault's response to<br />Derrida's criticism of Madness and Civilization? Interesting index of<br />one point of difference between the two. Derrida's piece, which<br />criticizes Foucault's reading of Descartes in History of Madness, is<br />called "Cogito and the History of Madness," and can apparently be found<br />in Writing and Difference (London: Routledge, 1978). Foucault's<br />response is called "My Body, This Paper, This Fire," and is found in<br />Aesthetics, Method, and Epistemology (vol 2 of Rabinow's two-volume F.<br />collection, which I highly reccommend) <br><br /><br><br />[...]<br><br /><br><br />[…]<br><br /><br style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">"The trace I leave to me means at once my death, to come or already<br />come, and the hope that it will survive me. It is not an ambition of<br />immortality; it is fundamental. I leave here a bit of paper, I leave, I<br />die; it is impossible to exit this structure; it is the unchanging form<br />of my life. Every time I let something go, I live my death in writing.<br />An extreme process; we exert ourselves without knowing whom exactly the<br />thing we leave behind is confided to. Who is going to inherit, and how?<br />It is a question that one can pose oneself today more than ever. It<br />constantly preoccupies me."</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br />[…]<br><br><img src="http://www.egothemag.com/archives/images/artculture/derrida_main.jpg"><br><br><span style="font-weight: bold;">Derrida, </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">The Last Interview</span><br style="font-weight: bold;" clear="all"><br><br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/22399.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/87/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/22399.html Ederlezi happy http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/21278.html Tue, 04 Sep 2007 18:27:30 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/21278.html Chris Korda 2004 Imaginabilities: <br><br>Fireworks<br><br><img src="http://churchofeuthanasia.org/graphics/nukewar/fireworks.jpg"><br><br>Nuclear War Is Not My Problem<br><br><br><img src="http://churchofeuthanasia.org/graphics/nukewar/nuclear_war_is_not_my_problem.jpg"><br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/21278.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/83/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/21278.html Coil anxious http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/21180.html Tue, 04 Sep 2007 18:21:45 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/21180.html <span style="font-weight: bold;">Smashing Pumpkins 2007: Zeitgeist</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br><img src="http://obeygiant.com/wp-content/uploads/smashingpumpkins.png"><br><br><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Smashing Pumpkins - Paris, France May 22, 2007:</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=wY8hPan6uuM">http://youtube.com/watch?v=wY8hPan6uuM</a><wbr /> <br><font size="3"><i><i><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br>"Speaking in Rhyme and Riddle: Hybridity in Billy Corgan's Machina"</span></i></i></font><h1><font size="3">by Adam Ware:<br></font></h1><font size="3"><a href="http://www.smashingpumpkins.com/machina/machina_thesis_adamware.pdf">http://www.smashingpumpkins.com/mac<wbr />hina/machina_thesis_adamware.pdf</a><br><br><span style="font-weight: bold;">And no more shall we part!</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"></font><br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/21180.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/82/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/21180.html Coil - Live in NYC 2000 anxious http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/20968.html Sat, 01 Sep 2007 14:30:21 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/20968.html <img src="http://www.arcolatheatre.com/_images/showorig/2006.03.27_12-17-264.48web.jpg"><br style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">33 min. and 34 sec.</span><br><br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/20968.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/81/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/20968.html Tindersticks - Buried Bones peaceful http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/20493.html Fri, 31 Aug 2007 10:16:24 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/20493.html Homosexuality has been legal for 40 years. Enjoy! (as Lacan would put it)<br /><br><br /><br><br /><img src="http://www.momcheto.com/images/gtads.jpg"><br><br>via www.momcheto.com<br><a href="http://www.momcheto.com/log.php?itemid=1332">http://www.momcheto.com/log.php?ite<wbr />mid=1332</a><br><br><br />Freedom!?! Remember the one of George Michael in the 90s? - Where are you now, George Michael? :)))<br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/20493.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/80/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/20493.html Walter Wanderly working http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/20435.html Fri, 31 Aug 2007 10:10:53 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/20435.html <img src="http://www.momcheto.com/images/putin.jpg"><br><br>Първият човек на Русия се превърна в гей икона, след като предизвика<br />сензация с показването на своето набито мускулесто тяло за руските<br />медии, пише хърватският вестник „Ютарни лист”. <br><br />Фотографиите, на които Путин заедно с Принца Алберт от Монако лови<br />риба, предизвикаха въодушевление в гей общностите и заеха челно място<br />на техните блогове, чатове и страници. <br><br />Една от снимките, която обиколи руското интернет пространство, се сравнява в атмосферата във филма „Brokeback Mountain”. <br /><br><br />Петдесет и четири годишният президент на Русия, бивш агент на КГБ, се опитва да остави впечатление на истински мачо. <br /><br><br />Вестникът „Космополитская правда” публикува големи снимки на президента на Русия със заглавие „Бъдете като Путин”. <br />Снимките бяха използвани като пътеводител за бодибилдинг салони и<br />програми за стройно тяло с цел да добиете мускули като тези на Путин.<br />Голяма част от жените, които са посетили уеб страницата, обсипали Путин<br />с комплименти. <br><br /><br><br />Източник: Днес.бг<br /><br />Вж. също: Могутин, Ярослав, 2003. <i>Сексуалност на фашизма</i>, книга, в: <i>Българска сексология</i>, &lt; <a href="http://bulseks.atspace.com/encyclopedia/2003/fashism/fashism.html">http://bulseks.atspace.com/encyclop<wbr />edia/2003/fashism/fashism.html</a> &gt;, прев. Николай Маринчев, Българска сексология. <br /> <br><br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/20435.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/79/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/20435.html Dean Martin - True Love working http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/20185.html Thu, 30 Aug 2007 07:56:22 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/20185.html <img src="http://www.editions-lignes.com/images/ECRITSPOUR.JPG"><br><br><span style="font-weight: bold;">Im memoriam</span> Felix Guattari: <br>April 30, 1930 – August 29, 1992<br><br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/20185.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/78/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/20185.html Steve Reich - Phase Piano determined http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/19825.html Sat, 25 Aug 2007 14:26:06 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/19825.html <img src="http://www.raymondvandewiel.nl/guattari4.jpg"><br><br>"Alongside the fascism of the concentration camps, which continue to exist in numerous countries, new forms of fascism are developing: a slow burning fascism, in familialism, in school, in racism, in every kind of ghetto, which advantageously makes up for the crematory ovens. (...) We must abandon, once and for all, the quick and easy formula: 'Fascism will not make it again'. Fascism has always made it', and continues to 'make it' ". &nbsp;<br>F. Guattari, "Everybody wants to be a fascist" <br><br><img src="http://www.accionchilena.cl/Doctrina/Felix-Guattari.jpg"><br><br>"The only people who will put up with listening to me any longer are those who feel the interest and urgency of the micro-political anti-fascist struggle that I'm talking about."&nbsp; &nbsp;<br>F. Guattari, "Everybody wants to be a fascist"<br><br>DNLD: <a href="http://friklasse.dk/files/Guattari%20-%20Everybody%20wants%20to%20be%20a%20Fascist.pdf">http://friklasse.dk/files/Guattari%2<wbr />0-%20Everybody%20wants%20to%20be%20a%20F<wbr />ascist.pdf</a> <br><br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/19825.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/77/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/19825.html Muslimgauze - Live 13/06/1998 - STOCKHOLM - SWEDEN creative http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/19587.html Fri, 24 Aug 2007 13:09:54 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/19587.html <font size="4"><b>Laurie Anderson</b></font><strong><font size="4"> - The Cultural Ambassador <br></font><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br><a href="http://www.sendspace.com/file/r4k335">http://www.sendspace.com/file/r4k33<wbr />5</a><br><br>Track 7 from <span style="font-weight: bold;">The Ugly One With the Jewels and Other Stories</span></span><br style="font-weight: normal;"><br><img src="http://static.rateyourmusic.com/album_images/s11505.jpg"><br><br></strong><span style="font-weight: bold;">Country:</span> USA<br><span style="font-weight: bold;">Year:</span> 1994 <br><span style="font-weight: bold;">Label:</span> Difficult Music BMI<br><br>Below is the transcript.<br><br>I will be having the whole album soon and will upload it the moment i can. :P<br><br>***<br><br>Anyway, I was in Israel as a kind of cultural ambassador and there were<br />lots of press conferences scheduled around the performances. The<br />journalists usually started things off by asking about the avant-garde.<br /><br><br />— So, what’s so good about new? they’d ask. <br><br /><br><br />— Well, new is… interesting. <br><br /><br><br />— And what, they would say, is so good about interesting? <br><br /><br><br />— Well, interesting is, you know… it’s… interesting. It’s like… being awake, you know, I’m treading water now. <br><br /><br><br />— And what is so good about being awake? they’d say. <br><br /><br><br />Finally I got the hang of this: never answer a question in Israel,<br />always answer by asking another question. But the Israelis were vey<br />curious about the Gulf War and what Americans had thought about it, and<br />I tried to think of a good question to ask and answer to this, but what<br />was really on my mind was that the week before I had myself been<br />testing explosives in a parking lot in Tel Aviv. Now this happened<br />because I had brought some small stage bombs to Israel as props for<br />this performance and the Israeli promoter was very interested in them.<br />And it turned out that he was on weekend duty on one of the bomb<br />squads, and bombs were also something of a hobby during the week. So I<br />said: <br><br /><br><br />— Look, you know, these bombs are nothing special, just, just a little smoke <br><br /><br><br />And he said: <br><br /><br><br />— Well, we can get much better things for you. <br><br /><br><br />And I said: <br><br /><br><br />— No really, these are fine… <br><br /><br><br />And he said: <br><br /><br><br />— No but it should be big, theatrical. It should make an impression, I mean you really just the right bomb. <br><br /><br><br />And so one morning he arranged to have about fifty small bombs<br />delivered to a parking lot, and since he looked on it as a sort of<br />special surprise favor, I couldn’t really refuse, so we are on this<br />parking lot testing the bombs, and after the first few explosions, I<br />found I was really getting pretty… interested. <br><br /><br><br />They all had very different characteristics: some had fiery orange<br />tails, and made these low paah, paah, paah, popping sound; others<br />exploded mid-air and left long smoky, slinky trails, and he had several<br />of each kind in case I needed to review them all at the end, and I’m<br />thinking: <br><br /><br><br />— Here I am, a citizen of the world’s largest arms supplier, setting<br />off bombs with the world’s second largest arms customer, and I’m having<br />a great time! <br><br /><br><br />So even though the diplomatic part of the trip wasn’t going so well, at<br />least I was getting some instruction in terrorism. And it reminded me<br />of something in a book by Don DeLillo about how terrorists are the only<br />true artists left, because they’re the only ones who are still capable<br />of really surprising people. And the other thing it reminded me of,<br />were all the attempts during the Gulf War to outwit the terrorists, and<br />I especially remember an interesting list of tips devised by the US<br />embassy in Madrid, and these tips were designed for Americans who found<br />themselves in war-time airports. The idea was not to call ourselves to<br />the attention of the numerous foreign terrorists who were presumably<br />lurking all over the terminal, so the embassy tips were a list of<br />mostly don’ts. Things like: don’t wear a baseball cap; don’t wear a<br />sweat shirt with the name of an American university on it; don’t wear<br />Timberlands with no socks; don’t chew gum; don’t yell “Ethel, our plane<br />is leaving!”. I mean it’s weird when your entire culture can be summed<br />up in eight giveaway characteristics. <br><br /><br><br />And during the Gulf War I was traveling around Europe with a lot of<br />equipment, and all the airports were full of security guards who would<br />suddenly point to a suitcase and start yelling: <br><br /><br><br />— Whose bag is this? I wanna know right now who owns this bag. <br><br /><br><br />And huge groups of passengers would start #170430 out for the bag, just<br />running around in circles like a Skud missile on its way in, and I was<br />carrying a lot of electronics so I had to keep unpacking everything and<br />plugging it in and demonstrating how it all worked, and I guessed I did<br />seem a little fishy; a lot of this stuff wakes up displaying LED<br />program readouts that have names like Adam Smasher, and so it took a<br />while to convince them that they weren’t some kind of espionage system.<br />So I’ve done quite a few of these sort of impromptu new music concerts<br />for small groups of detectives and customs agents and I’d have to keep<br />setting all this stuff up and they’d listen for a while and they’d say:<br /><br><br /><br><br />— So uh, what’s this? <br><br /><br><br />And I’d pull out something like this filter and say: <br><br /><br><br />— Now this is what I’d like to think of as the voice of Authority. <br><br /><br><br />And it would take me a while to tell them how I used it for songs that<br />were, you know, about various forms of control, and they would say: <br><br /><br><br />— Now, why would you want to talk like that? <br><br /><br><br />And I’d look around at the ###170549 and the undercover agents and the<br />dogs and the radio in the corner, tuned to the Superbowl coverage of<br />the war. And I’d say: <br><br /><br><br />— Take a wild guess. <br><br /><br><br />Finally of course, I got through, with this after all American-made<br />equipment, and the customs agents were all talking about the<br />effectiveness, no the beauty, the elegance, of the American strategy of<br />pinpoint bombing. The high tech surgical approach, which was being<br />reported by CNN as something between grand opera and the Superbowl,<br />like the first reports before the blackout when TV was live and<br />everything was heightened, and it was so… euphoric.<br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/19587.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/76/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/19587.html music Robert Crumb - Gay Life in Dikanka bitchy http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/19062.html Mon, 20 Aug 2007 17:01:15 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/19062.html These are and will be very practical hints at rectifying and ultimately starting a real terrorist-driven war:<br /><br />1)MUSLIMGAUZE : АПОЛОГЕТИКА ТЕРРОРА<br /><br />"Исламизм, терроризм, война - это некие логические феномены, шахматные фигуры на идеологической доске."<br /><br /><a href="http://muslimgauze.narod.ru/">http://muslimgauze.narod.ru/</a><br /><br />by savour [azzazin.narod.ru]<br /><br />2)A Plea for Leninist Intolerance <br /><br />"To reinvent Lenin's legacy today is to reinvent the politics of truth."<br /><br /><a href="http://www.lacan.com/zizek-plea.htm">http://www.lacan.com/zizek-plea.htm</a><wbr /><br /><br />by Slavoj Žižek<br /><br />P&gt;S&gt; Well, I have some problems with this guy, I might have mentioned it elsewhere already. He's, quite frankly, a brilliant schizo mind which does not makes him any more attractive anyway, yet there's some exasperation there whose background motivation (esp. when it comes to theoretical arguments) is self/derisive - i mean, c'mon, the guy is just (is he?) a by-product of the Western Academia (not that it's useless, on the contarry, he's misusing it in my opinion) and more precisely of Fredric Jameson... :)<br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/19062.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/74/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/19062.html Muslimgauze - Scientist of India Garden cheerful http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/18723.html Fri, 17 Aug 2007 18:44:08 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/18723.html <font size="3"><span class="searchlinksmall">Now, that's mesmeriznig:</span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall"><br><br>Imprisoned memories prowl thro' the dark</span><span style="font-style: italic;">. </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">Fuck it</span><span style="font-style: italic;">. </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">They scatter like rats</span><span style="font-style: italic;">... [</span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">Dead souls</span><span style="font-style: italic;">. </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">Rat a pat a patter into the silence</span><span style="font-style: italic;">.] </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">Ashes drift in the back of the skull</span><span style="font-style: italic;">. </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">A goblin parts the</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> [</span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">curtains</span><span style="font-style: italic;">] </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">with a slant</span><span style="font-style: italic;">-</span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">eyed chuckle</span><span style="font-style: italic;">. </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">Panic</span><span style="font-style: italic;">. </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">I blink as he vanishes into the shadows</span><span style="font-style: italic;">, </span> [<span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">hint ofprophetic</span><span style="font-style: italic;">] </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">cats</span><span style="font-style: italic;">-</span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">eyes</span><span style="font-style: italic;">. </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">The dust settles thick</span><span style="font-style: italic;">, </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">so by five when I stagger to the freezing bathroom I leave footprints for others to excavate</span><span style="font-style: italic;">. </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">They say the Ice Age is coming</span><span style="font-style: italic;">, </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">the weather's changed</span><span style="font-style: italic;">.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">The air stutters tic tic tic tic</span><span style="font-style: italic;">, </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">rattle of death</span><span style="font-style: italic;">-</span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">watch beetle on sad slate roofs</span><span style="font-style: italic;">. [</span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">The ice in your glass is radioactive</span><span style="font-style: italic;">, </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">Johnny</span><span style="font-style: italic;">. </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">Outside in the leaden hail</span><span style="font-style: italic;">] </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">the swan of Avon dies a syncopated death</span><span style="font-style: italic;">. ...[</span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">A</span><span style="font-style: italic;">] </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">black frost grips July by the throat</span><span style="font-style: italic;">. </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">We pull the</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> [...] </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">curtains tight over the dawn</span><span style="font-style: italic;">, </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">and shiver by empty grates</span><span style="font-style: italic;">. </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">The household gods have</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> [</span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">departed</span><span style="font-style: italic;">], </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">no one remembers quite when</span><span style="font-style: italic;">. </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">Poppies and corncockle have long been forgotten here</span><span style="font-style: italic;">, </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">like the boys who died in Flanders</span><span style="font-style: italic;">, </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">their names erased by a late frost</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> [</span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">that</span><span style="font-style: italic;">] </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">clipped the village cross</span><span style="font-style: italic;">. </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">Spring lapped the fields in arsenic green</span><span style="font-style: italic;">, </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">the oaks died this year</span><span style="font-style: italic;">. </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">On every green hill mourners stand</span><span style="font-style: italic;">, </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="searchlinksmall">and weep for The Last Of England</span><span style="font-style: italic;">.</span><br style="font-style: italic;"><br><span class="searchlinksmall">Derek Jarman <span style="font-style: italic;">The Last of England, </span>1988<span style="font-style: italic;"><br><br></span>Whilst listening &amp; watching to Coil &amp; Derek Jarman - <span style="font-style: italic;">Egyptian Basses</span> (<a href="http://www.tudou.com/programs/view/SX3bLD_l0Ec">http://www.tudou.com/programs/view/SX3<wbr />bLD_l0Ec</a>)<br><br><img src="http://www.studycollection.co.uk/imageiseverything/essayimages/jarmlasti003.jpg"><br><br>Born in the 80's: in the outset of what the Cold War was, born, or, rhather, unborh, just to be cold, and not to&nbsp; be born. <br>By 1988 Thatcher was there, and Jarman was there, but who ruled? Well, frankly now, was it Sex Pistols? Yes, make no mistake: it was precisely them and not Throbbing Gristle, and not Thatcher, no Virgin Prunes, no Current 93, no Boyd Rice. Genesis would never ask for recognition given by status-driven profit-makers as Pistols, as well as Jhonn, as well as Derek. <br><br>The story is perrenial. Hatred and evil is not needed: it is here and that's all that is her/e as a heaven on Earth: the evil as the mundane heaven of unborn 80s but </span></font><font size="3"><span class="searchlinksmall">'</span></font><font size="3"><span class="searchlinksmall">coldies'.<br><br><span style="font-weight: bold;">In God we Trust (Ltd)!</span><br></span></font><br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/18723.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/73/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/18723.html Coil - Egyptian Basses gloomy http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/18467.html Sat, 11 Aug 2007 11:01:34 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/18467.html I nearly finished my translation of Wendy Brown (<a href="http://womensstudies.berkeley.edu/faculty/wendy.html">http://womensstudies.berkeley.edu/facu<wbr />lty/wendy.html</a>). Just thought i shall post in Bulgarian a piece of Chapter 4 that is anxiously calling for a new rendition of "time" (proper or improper, timely or untimely) and what "time" is (it) in our times, as this text goes well beyond my hermeneutical understanding and translation strategy, and as it nearly eviscerates one's conception of what the strategy (not merely a subversion) for opening up political action (not nessecarilly and radically new) is and how undone is it in the present context of defying each and every political potentiality.A fantastic clarification of critique's terror both in and out of it - it strangely reminds me of both Don DeLilo's and Laurie Anderson's useages of the idea that in our times it is only the terrorists that are now the last living artists.<br><br>Starting with Brecht's full quotation, on which Brown draws upon:<br><br>In the dark times<br>Will there also be singing?<br>Yes, there will be singing<br>About the dark times.<br><br>Bertolt Brecht, "Motto" (circa 1938-1941)<br><br>***<br><br>Конференцията, за която това есе първоначално бе съчинено, беше озаглавена “Критическата теория в мрачни времена”. Тя зае фразата “мрачни времена” от Хана Арент, а Арент я е заела от Брехт, а Брехт, мисля, от древните гърци. Една такава верига от заемки очертава мрачните времена като периодически повтарящи се, така подсказвайки за една определена породеност на проблема, точно както призоваването на критическата теория заимства едно дълго историческо призвание, чиито темпорални местни слуги бихме били ние. Имало е мрачни времена и преди – това е значимостта на множественото число на съществителното, причината за това, защо ние говорим по-скоро за мрачни времена, а не за едно мрачно време или един свят, захвърлен в мрачност. Всъщност, има нещо перверзно обнадеждаващо в названието: мрачните времена са епизодични и крайни, за да бъдат контрастирани с едно трайно положение или телеологическа траектория. Чудя се, обаче, дали тази обнадеждителност е самоуверена, или може би наместо това е контра-фобична.<br><br>Ако това ни време се усеща мрачно, в какво всъщност се състои неговата мрачност? Аз не мисля, че ние говорим просто за трудностите пред действието или даже за отчаянието по бъдещето в лицето на невиждани констелации на недемократична власт (неоколониална, капиталистическа, имперска, религиозна, терористка) и политически визии, помрачени от една век на провалени алтернативи. По-скоро, позоваването сякаш би извикало преживяването на едно дете в мрачината, такава, която гъмжи от диаболични сили, които не могат нито да бъде подчинени или пък схванати, сили, които плашат докато обитават и засилват една изпитвана слабост. Мрачността сигнализира не само за опасност, но и за отсъствие на озарение, и свързва двете: опасностите са по-големи поради липсата на светлина... или пък една значителна част от опасността се намира в липсата на светлина. Ние сме дезориентирани, наплашени, и се препъваме в мрака.<br><br>Съществуват две сили в наши времена, чието основно средство е страхът: тероризмът и империята. Принципът на тероризма е непредсказуемо насилие; той е обратното на систематичното, видимо, установено, или регуларизирано господство. Това, което предава терористичното насилие като власт е неговото неизбежно, предчувствано, макар и произволно, прииждане, неговата способност да подрива и руши всекидневието по всяко време и на всяко място. Понеже тероризмът няма никакво регулярно време или място, ние сме накарани да бъдем страхливи в по-малка степен от действителните терористични събития, отколкото от призрака на тероризма, призрак, който действа чрез неизчислимост. Това е фундаменталната абсурдност на цветово-кодираните “терористични тревоги”. Симулирайки една способност да измерват и предсказват ходовете на една форма на власт, която се подиграва с измерването и предсказването, тревогите претендират по начин, който не убеждава никого, че ние знаем какво ще се случи после, че сме под контрол, когато не сме, дори докато те несъмнено повишават страхливостта на онези, които си въобразяват че са мишени.<br><br>Действащият принцип на страха в съвременните практики на империята е доста различен от този в тероризма и е свързан с модерната нелегитимност на империята vis-à-vis принципите на демокрацията и модерния суверенитет. Тази нелигитимност означава, че империята днес може да бъде оправдана само чрез страх, чрез обявяване на едно вечно извънредно положение, което би позволило конвенционалните демократични принципи да бъдат потъпкани. Така че модерната империя мобилизира човешкия страх на масово равнище; тя е над всичко паразитна над страха, разбуден от призрака на тероризма, но тя е също така и зависима от страха, свързан с пропускливостта на модерните национални държави и със захвърлянето на уязвими индивиди и изкоренени общности на превратностите на глобалните сили. Империята обещава защита от опасносите, които тя реторически преувеличава, за да подсигури себе си, преувеличение, което усилва нашия страх в мрака.<br><br>Но докато мрачността днес имплицира не само страх, но също и дезориентация, последното се числи към една дъга от сили, оформящи настоящето, която надхвърля една диалектика на империята и терора. Ние сме дезориентирани от буквалната загуба на траектория, следваща колапса на историческите метанаративи в едно настояще, което изглежда наплашено от несправедливост и мизерия, а не само от апокалиптична опасност. Станало е баналност нашето време да се описва като обстрелвано от антидемократични исторически войски, въпреки че му липсва едно движение напред. Това прави товара на настоящото тежък: всичко е маса, без бързина. Или, в термините на късната модерна забързаност, извикана по-рано: всичко е скорост, без посока. Ако тази натежалост, смесена със забързаност беше аналогизирана с психично състояние, то диагнозата би била дълбока депресивна тревожност, разстройство, за което един поразителен брой хора днес търсят лечение. Депресивната тревожност е наистина ужасно състояние: не можеш да се помръднеш поради отчаяността, но не можеш да си починеш поради тревожността; не можеш нито да сграбчиш живота, нито да му избягаш, нито да живееш, нито да умреш. Не може да има по-добро название за нашето състояние, за отчаяността на едно привидно веччно настояще при катастрофа, рисуваща своя хоризонт. Постоянната дневна светлина, припомня ни Ницше, е такава на непрекъсната мрачина; непосилността на двете е спрялото време, едно безкрайно настояще (21). Непрекъснатото време е времето на вечността, времето на смъртта. Малко изненадващо е, в такъв случай, че ние говорим идиоматично и за времето, и за мрака като “разстилащи се над нас”. Тази отсенка на завършек, това впримчване в едно непосилно настояще, е една значителна част от това, което прави нашите времена мрачни днес, което ни прави несигурни че точно времената, а не светът, са тези, които се смрачават – всъщност това, което кара времето и света да колабират в едно, защото времето, поради цялата му скорост, изглежда е спряло движейки се напред или отвеждайки ни нанякъде. <br><br>Wendy Brown, "Untimeliness and Punctuality: Critical Theory in Dark Times"<br>(Originally published as Chapter 1 in: Wendy Brown, <i style=""><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;" lang="EN-US">Edgework: Critical Essays on Knowledge and Politics</span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;" lang="EN-US">, </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">pp. 1-17</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;" lang="EN-US">, Princeton,<br />New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 2005)</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/18467.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/72/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/18467.html theory Philip Glass - The Hours determined http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/18314.html Fri, 20 Jul 2007 08:32:14 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/18314.html <img src="http://www.cestsoparis.com/goodies/wallpaper_rugby_1024x768.jpg"><br><br /><br />Now, is this a victory-driven propaganda or just consummation-ridden gay bourgeoisie prattle?<br /><br />(via bsxds.com)<br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/18314.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/71/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/18314.html Master Musicians of Jajouka creative http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/18126.html Wed, 18 Jul 2007 11:36:00 GMT http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/18126.html <img src="http://static.last.fm/coverart/300x300/1436590.jpg"><br><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br>Master Musicians Of Jajouka - Master Musicians Of Jajouka</span><br style="font-weight: bold;"><br><table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0"><tbody><tr><td align="right">Label:</td><td><br /><br /> <a href="http://www.discogs.com/label/Point+Music">Point Music</a><br /><br /></td></tr> <tr><td align="right">Catalog#:</td><td><br />289 464 536-2<br /></td></tr> <tr><td align="right">Format:</td><td><br /><br /><br /><br /> <br /> CD<br><br /> <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></td></tr> <tr><td align="right">Country:</td><td>US</td></tr> <tr><td align="right">Released:</td><td>2000</td></tr> <tr><td align="right">Genre:</td><td><br /><br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> Electronic<br /> <br /> <br /> <br /><br /></td></tr> <tr><td align="right">Style:</td><td><br /><br /> <br /> <br /> Tribal, <br /> <br /> <br /> Drum n Bass</td></tr></tbody></table><br><b>Tracklisting:<br><br></b><br /><br /><br /><br /> <br /> <table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2"><tbody><tr> <td align="left" nowrap="nowrap">1</td> <td>&nbsp;</td> <td>Up To The Sky, Down To The Earth (6:29)</td> </tr> <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td> <td><small><br /> <br /> <br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;Co-producer - <br /> <br /> <a href="http://www.discogs.com/artist/Talvin+Singh">Talvin Singh</a><br /><br /> <br /> </small></td> </tr> <tr> <td align="left" nowrap="nowrap">2</td> <td>&nbsp;</td> <td>The Truth Forever (10:23)</td> </tr> <tr> <td align="left" nowrap="nowrap">3</td> <td>&nbsp;</td> <td>Searching For Passion (3:37)</td> </tr> <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td> <td><small><br /> <br /> <br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;Co-producer - <br /> <br /> <a href="http://www.discogs.com/artist/Talvin+Singh">Talvin Singh</a><br /><br /> <br /> </small></td> </tr> <tr> <td align="left" nowrap="nowrap">4</td> <td>&nbsp;</td> <td>Taksim (2:51)</td> </tr> <tr> <td align="left" nowrap="nowrap">5</td> <td>&nbsp;</td> <td>You Can Find The Feeling (5:46)</td> </tr> <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td> <td><small><br /> <br /> <br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;Co-producer - <br /> <br /> <a href="http://www.discogs.com/artist/Talvin+Singh">Talvin Singh</a><br /><br /> <br /> </small></td> </tr> <tr> <td align="left" nowrap="nowrap">6</td> <td>&nbsp;</td> <td>The Blessing For The World From God Only (6:46)</td> </tr> <tr> <td align="left" nowrap="nowrap">7</td> <td>&nbsp;</td> <td>Jamming In London (4:10)</td> </tr> <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td> <td><small><br /> <br /> <br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;Co-producer - <br /> <br /> <a href="http://www.discogs.com/artist/Talvin+Singh">Talvin Singh</a><br /><br /> <br /> </small></td> </tr> <tr> <td align="left" nowrap="nowrap">8</td> <td>&nbsp;</td> <td>The House Of Baraka (7:39)</td> </tr> <tr> <td align="left" nowrap="nowrap">9</td> <td>&nbsp;</td> <td>Above The Moon (4:30)</td> </tr> <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td> <td><small><br /> <br /> <br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;Co-producer - <br /> <br /> <a href="http://www.discogs.com/artist/Talvin+Singh">Talvin Singh</a><br /><br /> <br /> </small></td> </tr> <tr> <td align="left" nowrap="nowrap">10</td> <td>&nbsp;</td> <td>The Magic Of Peace (5:47)</td> </tr> <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td> <td><small><br /> <br /> <br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;Co-producer - <br /> <br /> <a href="http://www.discogs.com/artist/Talvin+Singh">Talvin Singh</a><br /><br /> <br /> </small></td> </tr> <tr> <td align="left" nowrap="nowrap">11</td> <td>&nbsp;</td> <td>The Magic Of Peace (Remix) (8:48)</td> </tr> <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td> <td><small><br /> <br /> <br /> &nbsp;&nbsp;Co-producer - <br /> <br /> <a href="http://www.discogs.com/artist/Talvin+Singh">Talvin Singh</a><br /><br /> <br /> <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;Remix - <br /> <br /> <a href="http://www.discogs.com/artist/D.B.A.">D.B.A.</a><br><br style="font-weight: bold;"></small><span style="font-weight: bold;">Download URL: </span><br><br /> <a href="http://www.gigasize.com/get.php/-1099871777/Master_Musicians_of_Jajouka_Featuring_Bachir_Attar.zip"> http://www.gigasize.com/get.php/-1099871<wbr />777/Master_Musicians_of_Jajouka_Featurin<wbr />g_Bachir_Attar.zip</a><br></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><div style="text-align:left"><font size="-2"><a href="http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/18126.html"><img src=http://lj.rossia.org/comments/70/7675 border=0 width=26 height=17 alt="number of comments" style="border:0px;" /> <strong>Comments</strong></a></div> http://lj.rossia.org/users/delinkuent/18126.html music Lhasa working