k-punk

Picture of how I felt last night
Nikki Brand (Videodrome: we live in overstimulated times….
Kubrick: ‘psychedelic fascism — the eye-popping, multimedia, quadrasonic, drug-oriented conditioning of human beings by other beings…’
If the psychedelia of reason gives you greater control over your body and your brain (it is an instruction kit for how to use both better: what could be better value for money than that, eh?), the Psychedelic fascism that dominates Videodromedia Version 2004 is disabling and debilitating — all in the name of ‘intensity’ and ‘pleasure’.
Interjection: k-punk definition
Intensity as it is understood in the D/G/k-p sense has no connection whatsoever with screwface PantoGoth male climax nor the cult of the Extreme Sensation (i.e. it has nothing to do with C.G. Alin or Bob Flanagan or any other knob-piercing militantly normal ‘weirdness’ [MES: ‘you don’t have to be weird to be weird’]
Rather intensity means the state of being in tension. It is an anti-climax female-orgasm analog auto-affecting state of unpleasure radically outside the testicular thermodynamic male monkeymatic libidinal economy.
Being intense means staying on a plateau.
Defintion over
Psychedelic Fascism legitimates and propagates a radically unSpinozist notion of being free: i.e. give free reign to your Inner Child = yr Inner Fascist.
Spinoza rightly says that children are in a state of abjection because, unable to repress their passively-generated and self-damaging impulses, they confuse being free with ‘doing as you please’.
Ask yrself this: who or what is it that cannot or will not explain what it is doing or why it is doing it?
It’s the Inner Child, the Alien Parasite Entity, the Foreign Installation….
‘Don’t mess with my mojo man….’ ‘Hey man, don’t lay that rationality tip on me, it’s, like, the forces of the cosmos being creative, y’know…’
No wonder that the Order is doing everything it can to spread this infantilistic hedonism. Who do you think set up Death TV?
(btw, bear in mind that, according to Infinite Thought, I am a ‘proletarian puritan’)
Speaking of Psychedelic fascism
Sad to see that, ludicrously, Luke thought that Robin and Ruth were disappointed in him. For refutations of which, see Undercurrent and Eleutheria. In short, only a total fucking twat (and we know a few of those, eh readers) would find Luke a disappointment.
Typically energizing and stimulating heronbone derrive through Stratford and down to Three Mills — passing the smugonautic media typez (a race apart, immediately identifiable due to laid-but-silverback alpha male and female body postures wafting ‘can we cut a deal’ self-importance’) and go into familiar heronbone microperceptive trance fixated on swans (can’t wait for the Undercurrent photo of the baboon-faced black one, like a floating runt dinosaur).
Down to historical riverside pub in Limehouse, the waves from passing dazed consumer pleasure-cruisers, reading the Mirror Group’s free paper for the super-rich, The Wharf, like a tabloid for plutocrats. Hearing about the misfortunes and minor discomforts of pig-faced bankers: well you would have to have a heart of stone not to LOL…
It’s all curtailed all-too quickly, we have an appointment to discuss theory. Had high hopes for this but thank uttunul that for whatever reasons no bloggaz turned up to be turned off D/G for life by a display of wanton ponderthonic laborious dogmatic pietistic theory-priestliness that made Sandy’s k-punk straw man seem like Dale Winton.
Luke, everyone else: do not read ‘Of the Refrain’ in A Thousand Plateaus. That section at the end of the plateau (though such a description seems slightly misleading for something that culminates in a foaming humanist expostulation about Boulez making contact with the universe, man) is Hegelian-humanist-improv-high culture-Radio 3 tedium-mongering of the worst kind (are there any other kinds LOL)
And, especially, don’t have it read to you as a sermon.
I’m off on holiday to continue my ILM-announced nervous breakdown (‘it was OK when it was about music… but now: call the editors, get the police….. rip in the master film….’)
Others should soon be populating this space.
If you need me kontakt via comments or hotmail. (I’m assuming that even N. Wales has internet cafes lol.)
And on that bombshell…
p.s. look undercurrent, no ‘cratic’s — wouldn’t want to be a cratocrat —- DOH!