IF IT IS FREE SPEECH THE ALT-RIGHT DESIRE
THEN LET US MAKE IT AS QUEER AS POSSIBLE
A (TRANS)VALUATION THAT IRRUPTS THE CENTRE
OF SAD WHITE FASH BOIS
PINING FOR MOTHER ENGLAND’S WOMB.
(a primordial ethno-nation on stolen land)
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IF IT IS FREE SPEECH THE ALT-RIGHT DESIRE
THEN LET US MAKE IT AS QUEER AS POSSIBLE
A (TRANS)VALUATION THAT IRRUPTS THE CENTRE
OF SAD WHITE FASH BOIS
PINING FOR MOTHER ENGLAND’S WOMB.
(a primordial ethno-nation on stolen land)
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I will not stand by while abuse happens
six months of cyclical hell
the push and pull of your desire
insatiate
this issue has never been singular
confined to some imaginary private space
in the public view of us all
using your circumstances to justify
the victimisation of another
to the point of collapse
the coloniser builds a fort
because they’re afraid
of their own violent mirror-image
projected into the landscape
do you recognise
yours?
what is the phantasm but a conjuring of the unheimlich? the fantasmatic brought to bear the weight of its own performative denunciation, border trace of spuk, the enigmatic becoming of the unspeakable, unnameable—à la mort—into dasein?
noun
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the end never came
for we had already arrived
An outcry an irruption a line of flight
lynchpin through the broken wheel
the violence of the panopticon
and apologies apologies apologie
le Trésor de la langue française informatisé
l'extatique
l'épuisé
l'opprimé
babel will always stand on the side of
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adieux: du spectacle mon amour – nein dasein nein dasein nein dasien
it was nice knowing you
it was nice knowing you
huis clos(ure) (no?) an end without exit a circle without entry || an eternal return (v pure?)
perhaps it was too soon, history had yet to catch up; or it had always-already been too late, and we were fooling ourselves, and we were fooling you all, and we were all grand fools in a fool world; both audience and clown, both laughter and tears, as the theatre around us burned a cacophonous scream
perhaps we deserve nothing more than this, for our ignorance, for our arrogance, for our pleasure, for our hatred, for our suffering, for our love — a love too fucking grand and terrifying to remain unbattered, untouched, unalienated, uncrushed, un un un, the beating pulse of a world still struggling, despite everything, to be more than it is, to burst apart the concrete seams, the fool’s parade, the fool’s theatre, the fool’s zine
it was nice
but it was never enough
and so it ends.
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the empty set stands in for nothing the empty set stands in for nothing the empty set stands in for nothing the empty set stands in for nothing the empty set stands in for nothing the empty set stands in for nothing the empty set stands in for nothing the empty set stands in for nothing the empty set stands in for nothing the empty set stands in for nothing the empty set stands in for nothing the empty set stands in for nothing the empty set stands in for nothing the empty set stands in for nothing the empty set stands in for nothing
IN THE STATE OF INTEGRAL REALITY THE SIMULATION REVEALS ITS OWN NOTHINGNESS ALONG WITH OUR OWN.