the alps … have been compared to jodorowsky cinema
paavoharju – crazy finish music, beautiful eerie woman singing, kinda demonic but they’re actually christian!
klaus nomi – german falsetto guy who sang pop songs and opera
julee cruise – her songs are written by badalamenti and lynch (you may recall her in blue velvet, twin peaks, etc)
hauschka – prepared piano, beautiful
amon tobin.. his music was used for the soundtrack of one of my fav movies, taxidermia. very strange electronic, jazzy samples
jackie – o – motherfucker – folky psychedelic noisy droney and jazzed out
faust/can/silver apples/early kraftwerk/neu!/cluster/brian eno – krautrock spaced out stoned and 70s!!!!!
matmos – original german electronic music inspired by kraut… like to use noise from inanimate objects as samples, very patchy collage feel
cinematic orchestra – jazzy electronic… did a soundtrack for man with a movie camera. very worth experiencing. its on youtube
os mutantes – hopefully youve heard of them. psychedelia from the late 60s, velvet underground of brazil. their self titled album specifically
boredoms – psychedelic japanese tribal love
moondog – amazing jazz composer, great on mushrooms, even better without!
celine et julie vont en bateau (rivette)
killer of sheep (burnett)
fando y lis (jodorowsky)
la mome (drahan)
discreet charm of the bourgeoisie (bunuel)
slacker (linklater)
the color of pomegranates (parajanov)
sex and lucia (medem)
blue velvet (lynch)
wild at heart (lynch)
gypsies are found near heaven (loteanu)
kung fu hustle (chow)
shoot the piano player (truffaut)
black cat white cat (kusturica)
landscapes in the mist (angelopolous)
style wars (silver/chalfant)
the cats of mirikitani
american movie (smith)
a short film about love (kieślowski)
2001 a space odyssey (kubrick)
taxidermia (pálfi)
the fall (singh)
turtles can fly (ghobadi)
badlands (malick)
talk to her (almodóvar)
12 monkeys (gilliam)
fallen angels (kar-wai)
maybe im wrong but i did this recently and it worked..
when you begin to enter the name of an auteur, a few options come up but maybe not the one you’re looking for. mess around with the letter combinations (i.e. if youre trying to add truffaut try “tr” “au” “ut” -any letter combination that can be found in his first or last name).. once his name shows up, scroll down with the down arrow and press enter to add it to your list once the light blue part is on the name. if you try clicking on it, it wont work. its a whack method but it works.
hopefully this is what you’re talking about and i’m not just giving out information you already know
i always enjoy films on a plane more because sometimes i have no other choice.
for instance recently i saw “the reader” and i think i liked it so much only because I was on a plane
and then i saw “paul blart mall cop” and i was so deliriously tired that i didn’t hate it
but i tried to watch “speed racer” and almost freaked out from the special effects
sam h – yeah i cant deal with el topo either. although his earlier film, “fando y lis” is one of my favorites. and i liked sin city too, so many people hate on it :|
seriously, fando y lis is much less painful to watch. its quite beautiful, filled with (mostly) nonviolent surrealist images, pretty songs, and an excellent free jazz/burning piano scene.
I’m minoring in film at usc because i don’t believe majoring in it will get me any farther. also when majoring in film here, you are required to choose a track (production, screenwriting, critical studies). With a minor, i’ve been able to taken classes in all those departments and get a more well-rounded grasp of cinema production. I recently wrote and shot a short film outside of school, and in the process I learned more about sound, lighting, production design, costumes, etc than I did in any of my classes so far. I think it’s good to have a little bit of both. Film school will help with technicality but finding your own style and sometimes breaking the rules and using your own methods is just as important.
anything tinto brass
sex lies and videotape
y tu mama tambien
sex and lucia
in the mood for love
unbearable lightness of being
high art
a short film about love
blue velvet / mulholland dr
talk to her
that obscure object of desire
since captain is kind of a culmination of all these genres…. here you go
krautrock..
faust
silver apples
early kraftwerk
neu!
guru guru
psych..
love
kaleidoscope
the electric prunes
alexander skip spence
quicksilver messenger service
the great society
the seeds
the united states of america
west coast pop art experimental band
os mutantes
brian jonestown massacre
the animals (with or without eric burdon)
blues/guitar…
john fahey
sir richard bishop
mississippi john hurt
muddy waters
arthur curdup
elmore james
avant garde/experimental..
white noise
moondog
jackie – o – motherfucker
john cage
i could get into jazz if you like but maybe this is enough
The man who owned the bookstore was not magic. He was not a
three-legged crow on the dandelion side of the mountain.
He was, of course, a Jew, a retired merchant seaman
who had been torpedoed in the North Atlantic and floated
there day after day until death did not want him. He had a
young wife, a heart attack, a Volkswagen and a home in
Marin County. He liked the works of George Orwell, Richard
Aldington and Edmund Wilson.
He learned about life at sixteen, first from Dostoevsky
and then from the whores of New Orleans.
The bookstore was a parking lot for used graveyards.
Thousands of graveyards were parked in rows like cars.
Most of the kooks were out of print, and no one wanted to
read them any more and the people who had read the books
had died or forgotten about them, but through the organic
process of music the books had become virgins again. They
wore their ancient copyrights like new maidenheads.
I went to the bookstore in the afternoons after I got off
work, during that terrible year of 1959.
He had a kitchen in the back of the store and he brewed
cups of thick Turkish coffee in a copper pan. I drank coffee
and read old books and waited for the year to end. He had a
small room above the kitchen.
It looked down on the bookstore and had Chinese screens
in front of it. The room contained a couch, a glass cabinet
with Chinese things in it and a table and three chairs. There
was a tiny bathroom fastened like a watch fob to the room.
I was sitting on a stool in the bookstore one afternoon
reading a book that was in the shape of a chalice. The book
had clear pages like gin, and the first page in the book read:
Billy
the Kid
born
November 23,
1859
in
New York
City
The owner of the bookstore came up to me, and put his
arm on my shoulder and said, “Would you like to get laid?”
His voice was very kind.
“No, " I said.
“You’re wrong, " he said, and then without saying anything
else, he went out in front of the bookstore, and stopped a pair
of total strangers, a man and a woman. He talked to them for
a few moments. I couldn’t hear what he was saying. He pointed
at me in the bookstore. The woman nodded her head and
then the man nodded his head.
They came into the bookstore.
I was embarrassed. I could not leave the bookstore because
they were entering by the only door, so I decided to go
upstairs and go to the toilet. I got up abruptly and walked
to the back of the bookstore and went upstairs to the bathroom,
and they followed after me. I could hear them on the stairs.
I waited for a long time in the bathroom and they waited
an equally long time in the other room. They never spoke.
When I came out of the bathroom, the woman was lying naked
on the couch, and the man was sitting in a chair with his
hat on his lap.
“Don’t worry about him, " the girl said. “These things
make no difference to him. He’s rich. He has 3, 859 Rolls
Royces.” The girl was very pretty and her body was like a
clear mountain river of skin and muscle flowing over rocks
of bone and hidden nerves.
“Come to me, " she said. “And come inside me for we are
Aquarius and I love you.”
I looked at the man sitting in the chair. He was not smiling
and he did not look sad.
I took off my shoes and all my clothes. The man did not
say a word.
The girl’s body moved ever so slightly from side to side.
There was nothing else I could do for my body was like
birds sitting on a telephone wire strung out down the world,
clouds tossing the wires carefully.
I laid the girl.
It was like the eternal 59th second when it becomes a minute
and then looks kind of sheepish.
“Good, " the girl said, and kissed me on the face.
The man sat there without speaking or moving or sending
out any emotion into the room. I guess he was rich and owned
3, 859 Rolls Royces.
Afterwards the girl got dressed and she and the man left.
They walked down the stairs and on their way out, I heard
him say his first words.
“Would you like to go to Emie’s for dinner?”
“I don’t know, " the girl said. "It’s a little early to think
about dinner. "
Then I heard the door close and they were gone. I got
dressed and went downstairs. The flesh about my body felt
soft and relaxed like an experiment in functional background
music.
The owner of the bookstore was sitting at his desk behind
the counter. "I’11 tell you what happened up there, " he said,
in a beautiful anti-three-legged-crow voice, in an anti-dandelion
side of the mountain voice.
“What?”I said.
“You fought in the Spanish Civil War. You were a young
Communist from Cleveland, Ohio. She was a painter. A New
York Jew who was sightseeing in the Spanish Civil War as if
it were the Mardi Gras in New Orleans being acted out by
Greek statues.
“She was drawing a picture of a dead anarchist when you
met her. She asked you to stand beside the anarchist and act
as if you had killed him. You slapped her across the face
and said something that would be embarrassing for me to
repeat.
You both fell very much in love.
“Once while you were at the front she read Anatomy of
Melancholy and did 349 drawings of a lemon.
“Your love for each other was mostly spiritual.Neither
one of you performed like millionaires in bed.
“When Barcelona fell, you and she flew to England, and
then took a ship back to New York. Your love for each other
remained in Spain. It was only a war love. You loved only
yourselves, loving each other in Spain during the war. On
the Atlantic you were different toward each other and became
every day more and more like people lost from each other.
“Every wave on the Atlantic was like a dead seagull dragging
its driftwood artillery from horizon to horizon.
“When the ship bumped up against America, you departed
without saying anything and never saw each other again. The
last I heard of you, you were still living in Philadelphia. "
“That’s what you think happened up there?” I said.
“Partly, " he said. "Yes, that’s part of it. "
He took out his pipe and filled it with tobacco and lit it.
“Do you want me to tell you what else happened up there?”
he said.
“Go ahead.”
“You crossed the border into Mexico, " he said. "You
rode your horse into a small town. The people knew who
you were and they were afraid of you. They knew you had
killed many men with that gun you wore at your side. The
town itself was so small that it didn’t have a priest.
“When the rurales saw you, they left the town. Tough as
they were, they did not want to have anything to do with you.
The rurales left.
You became the most powerful man in town.
You were seduced by a thirteen-year-old girl, and you
and she lived together in an adobe hut, and practically all
you did was make love.
“She was slender and had long dark hair. You made love
standing, sitting, lying on the dirt floor with pigs and chickens
around you. The walls, the floor and even the roof of the
hut were coated with your sperm and her come.
“You slept on the floor at night and used your sperm for
a pillow and her come for a blanket.
“The people in the town were so afraid of you that they
could do nothing.
“After a while she started going around town without any
clothes on, and the people of the town said that it was not a
good thing, and when you started going around without any
clothes, and when both of you began making love on the back
of your horse in the middle of the zocalo, the people of the
town became so afraid that they abandoned the town. It’s
been abandoned ever since. "People won’t live there.
“Neither of you lived to be twenty-one. It was not neces-
sary.
“See, I do know what happened upstairs, " he said. He
smiled at me kindly. His eyes were like the shoelaces of a
harpsichord.
I thought about what happened upstairs.
“You know what I say is the truth, " he said. "For you
saw it with your own eyes and traveled it with your own body.
Finish the book you were reading before you were interrupted.
I’m glad you got laid. "
Once resumed the pages of the book began to speed up
and turn faster and faster until they were spinning like wheels
in the sea.
Los Angeles (the brewery/highland park/hollywood/and now south pasadena) born and raised and want to get out. lived in SF for a bit and loved it but ideally i wanna move to melbourne or europe.
noise/post rock/weird music over 2 years ago
the alps … have been compared to jodorowsky cinema
paavoharju – crazy finish music, beautiful eerie woman singing, kinda demonic but they’re actually christian!
klaus nomi – german falsetto guy who sang pop songs and opera
julee cruise – her songs are written by badalamenti and lynch (you may recall her in blue velvet, twin peaks, etc)
hauschka – prepared piano, beautiful
amon tobin.. his music was used for the soundtrack of one of my fav movies, taxidermia. very strange electronic, jazzy samples
jackie – o – motherfucker – folky psychedelic noisy droney and jazzed out
faust/can/silver apples/early kraftwerk/neu!/cluster/brian eno – krautrock spaced out stoned and 70s!!!!!
matmos – original german electronic music inspired by kraut… like to use noise from inanimate objects as samples, very patchy collage feel
cinematic orchestra – jazzy electronic… did a soundtrack for man with a movie camera. very worth experiencing. its on youtube
os mutantes – hopefully youve heard of them. psychedelia from the late 60s, velvet underground of brazil. their self titled album specifically
boredoms – psychedelic japanese tribal love
moondog – amazing jazz composer, great on mushrooms, even better without!
Go to Comment
noise/post rock/weird music over 2 years ago
these all fall under the category of weird music i forgot to add that, not much noise/postrock sorry
Go to Comment
The Works of David Lynch, Best to Worst over 2 years ago
Wild At Heart
Blue Velvet
Mulholland Dr
Twin Peaks (the whole damn thing)
Short Films
Eraserhead
Inland Empire
Go to Comment
What Is The Worst Movie Made in the Past 20 Years? (THERE ARE RULES TO FOLLOW!) over 2 years ago
biker boyz
pink panther 2
zoo
Go to Comment
what did you watch today? over 2 years ago
the hurt locker 7/10
Go to Comment
YOUR FAVOURITE "ROAD MOVIE" ? over 2 years ago
thelma and louise
badlands!!
Go to Comment
Favourite Minimalist films over 2 years ago
killer of sheep !!!!!!
taste of cherry
Go to Comment
Personal All-Time 25 over 2 years ago
favorites, not in order:
celine et julie vont en bateau (rivette)
killer of sheep (burnett)
fando y lis (jodorowsky)
la mome (drahan)
discreet charm of the bourgeoisie (bunuel)
slacker (linklater)
the color of pomegranates (parajanov)
sex and lucia (medem)
blue velvet (lynch)
wild at heart (lynch)
gypsies are found near heaven (loteanu)
kung fu hustle (chow)
shoot the piano player (truffaut)
black cat white cat (kusturica)
landscapes in the mist (angelopolous)
style wars (silver/chalfant)
the cats of mirikitani
american movie (smith)
a short film about love (kieślowski)
2001 a space odyssey (kubrick)
taxidermia (pálfi)
the fall (singh)
turtles can fly (ghobadi)
badlands (malick)
talk to her (almodóvar)
12 monkeys (gilliam)
fallen angels (kar-wai)
Go to Comment
Ten Worst Movies You've Ever Seen? over 2 years ago
as far as overrated bad indie movies go:
me you everyone we know
juno
500 days of summer
garden state
and others…
sweeny todd
a scanner darkly
speed racer
pink panther 2 (steve martin)
hitch
wedding crashers
8 mile
an american crime
water drops on burning rocks
Go to Comment
I can't seem to edit my favorite auteurs in my profile. over 2 years ago
maybe im wrong but i did this recently and it worked..
when you begin to enter the name of an auteur, a few options come up but maybe not the one you’re looking for. mess around with the letter combinations (i.e. if youre trying to add truffaut try “tr” “au” “ut” -any letter combination that can be found in his first or last name).. once his name shows up, scroll down with the down arrow and press enter to add it to your list once the light blue part is on the name. if you try clicking on it, it wont work. its a whack method but it works.
hopefully this is what you’re talking about and i’m not just giving out information you already know
Go to Comment
Last movie you saw and rate it over 2 years ago
ponyo: 9/10
Go to Comment
Personal All-Time 25 over 2 years ago
i also like blood simple… and burn after reading
Go to Comment
TV Shows on the Auteurs over 2 years ago
i only watch adult swim :\ …on the internet/dvd cause i don’t have cable
there’s some good old ones on there, i.e.
home movies, sealab 2021, tom goes to the mayor… those are probably my favorites
Go to Comment
Can you watch a movie on a plane? over 2 years ago
i always enjoy films on a plane more because sometimes i have no other choice.
for instance recently i saw “the reader” and i think i liked it so much only because I was on a plane
and then i saw “paul blart mall cop” and i was so deliriously tired that i didn’t hate it
but i tried to watch “speed racer” and almost freaked out from the special effects
Go to Comment
TV Shows on the Auteurs over 2 years ago
aw hell yeah filmbot. some 12 oz episodes kinda miss though. never seen frisky dingo though, i’ll check it out
Go to Comment
What is in your Netflix "At Home" Queue right now (i.e., what the f are you renting)? over 2 years ago
We Own The Night…. i’ve seen half of this and it has one of the most beautiful intros i’ve ever seen
Go to Comment
Top Films of 2009 - so far over 2 years ago
@fredo.. was taxidermia 09? i think it was released in 06 but hey it was my favorite film I saw this year
in order of greatness
up
ponyo
inglourious basterds
coraline (3D!)
moon
district 9
food inc
star trek
drag me to hell
rudo y cursi
hurt locker
and worst:
500 days of summer (i hate this movie so much)
watchmen
bruno
terminator
funny people
gigantic
Go to Comment
Ten Worst Movies You've Ever Seen? over 2 years ago
sam h – yeah i cant deal with el topo either. although his earlier film, “fando y lis” is one of my favorites. and i liked sin city too, so many people hate on it :|
Go to Comment
Ten Worst Movies You've Ever Seen? over 2 years ago
seriously, fando y lis is much less painful to watch. its quite beautiful, filled with (mostly) nonviolent surrealist images, pretty songs, and an excellent free jazz/burning piano scene.
Go to Comment
David Gordon Green remaking Suspiria over 2 years ago
suspiria is beautiful: the set design, colors, goblin, and 70s cheesefactor. nothing can ever replace that
Go to Comment
Which Movies Have You Walked Out On? over 2 years ago
sweeny todd
Go to Comment
Film School - Effect on you as a filmmaker over 2 years ago
I’m minoring in film at usc because i don’t believe majoring in it will get me any farther. also when majoring in film here, you are required to choose a track (production, screenwriting, critical studies). With a minor, i’ve been able to taken classes in all those departments and get a more well-rounded grasp of cinema production. I recently wrote and shot a short film outside of school, and in the process I learned more about sound, lighting, production design, costumes, etc than I did in any of my classes so far. I think it’s good to have a little bit of both. Film school will help with technicality but finding your own style and sometimes breaking the rules and using your own methods is just as important.
Go to Comment
which movie picks you up when you're down? over 2 years ago
american movie
Go to Comment
Which Movies Have You Walked Out On? over 2 years ago
also snakes on a plane
Go to Comment
Most erotic films you've seen. over 2 years ago
anything tinto brass
sex lies and videotape
y tu mama tambien
sex and lucia
in the mood for love
unbearable lightness of being
high art
a short film about love
blue velvet / mulholland dr
talk to her
that obscure object of desire
Go to Comment
Any Good Artists Out There That Are Similar To Beefheart? over 2 years ago
since captain is kind of a culmination of all these genres…. here you go
krautrock..
faust
silver apples
early kraftwerk
neu!
guru guru
psych..
love
kaleidoscope
the electric prunes
alexander skip spence
quicksilver messenger service
the great society
the seeds
the united states of america
west coast pop art experimental band
os mutantes
brian jonestown massacre
the animals (with or without eric burdon)
blues/guitar…
john fahey
sir richard bishop
mississippi john hurt
muddy waters
arthur curdup
elmore james
avant garde/experimental..
white noise
moondog
jackie – o – motherfucker
john cage
i could get into jazz if you like but maybe this is enough
Go to Comment
Help me find some good horror films over 2 years ago
i saw “drag me to hell” (sam raimi) recently and i liked it
Go to Comment
Our Favourite Poems- for a site anthology over 2 years ago
Sea, Sea, Rider by Richard Brautigan
The man who owned the bookstore was not magic. He was not a
three-legged crow on the dandelion side of the mountain.
He was, of course, a Jew, a retired merchant seaman
who had been torpedoed in the North Atlantic and floated
there day after day until death did not want him. He had a
young wife, a heart attack, a Volkswagen and a home in
Marin County. He liked the works of George Orwell, Richard
Aldington and Edmund Wilson.
He learned about life at sixteen, first from Dostoevsky
and then from the whores of New Orleans.
The bookstore was a parking lot for used graveyards.
Thousands of graveyards were parked in rows like cars.
Most of the kooks were out of print, and no one wanted to
read them any more and the people who had read the books
had died or forgotten about them, but through the organic
process of music the books had become virgins again. They
wore their ancient copyrights like new maidenheads.
I went to the bookstore in the afternoons after I got off
work, during that terrible year of 1959.
He had a kitchen in the back of the store and he brewed
cups of thick Turkish coffee in a copper pan. I drank coffee
and read old books and waited for the year to end. He had a
small room above the kitchen.
It looked down on the bookstore and had Chinese screens
in front of it. The room contained a couch, a glass cabinet
with Chinese things in it and a table and three chairs. There
was a tiny bathroom fastened like a watch fob to the room.
I was sitting on a stool in the bookstore one afternoon
reading a book that was in the shape of a chalice. The book
had clear pages like gin, and the first page in the book read:
Billy
the Kid
born
November 23,
1859
in
New York
City
The owner of the bookstore came up to me, and put his
arm on my shoulder and said, “Would you like to get laid?”
His voice was very kind.
“No, " I said.
“You’re wrong, " he said, and then without saying anything
else, he went out in front of the bookstore, and stopped a pair
of total strangers, a man and a woman. He talked to them for
a few moments. I couldn’t hear what he was saying. He pointed
at me in the bookstore. The woman nodded her head and
then the man nodded his head.
They came into the bookstore.
I was embarrassed. I could not leave the bookstore because
they were entering by the only door, so I decided to go
upstairs and go to the toilet. I got up abruptly and walked
to the back of the bookstore and went upstairs to the bathroom,
and they followed after me. I could hear them on the stairs.
I waited for a long time in the bathroom and they waited
an equally long time in the other room. They never spoke.
When I came out of the bathroom, the woman was lying naked
on the couch, and the man was sitting in a chair with his
hat on his lap.
“Don’t worry about him, " the girl said. “These things
make no difference to him. He’s rich. He has 3, 859 Rolls
Royces.” The girl was very pretty and her body was like a
clear mountain river of skin and muscle flowing over rocks
of bone and hidden nerves.
“Come to me, " she said. “And come inside me for we are
Aquarius and I love you.”
I looked at the man sitting in the chair. He was not smiling
and he did not look sad.
I took off my shoes and all my clothes. The man did not
say a word.
The girl’s body moved ever so slightly from side to side.
There was nothing else I could do for my body was like
birds sitting on a telephone wire strung out down the world,
clouds tossing the wires carefully.
I laid the girl.
It was like the eternal 59th second when it becomes a minute
and then looks kind of sheepish.
“Good, " the girl said, and kissed me on the face.
The man sat there without speaking or moving or sending
out any emotion into the room. I guess he was rich and owned
3, 859 Rolls Royces.
Afterwards the girl got dressed and she and the man left.
They walked down the stairs and on their way out, I heard
him say his first words.
“Would you like to go to Emie’s for dinner?”
“I don’t know, " the girl said. "It’s a little early to think
about dinner. "
Then I heard the door close and they were gone. I got
dressed and went downstairs. The flesh about my body felt
soft and relaxed like an experiment in functional background
music.
The owner of the bookstore was sitting at his desk behind
the counter. "I’11 tell you what happened up there, " he said,
in a beautiful anti-three-legged-crow voice, in an anti-dandelion
side of the mountain voice.
“What?”I said.
“You fought in the Spanish Civil War. You were a young
Communist from Cleveland, Ohio. She was a painter. A New
York Jew who was sightseeing in the Spanish Civil War as if
it were the Mardi Gras in New Orleans being acted out by
Greek statues.
“She was drawing a picture of a dead anarchist when you
met her. She asked you to stand beside the anarchist and act
as if you had killed him. You slapped her across the face
and said something that would be embarrassing for me to
repeat.
You both fell very much in love.
“Once while you were at the front she read Anatomy of
Melancholy and did 349 drawings of a lemon.
“Your love for each other was mostly spiritual.Neither
one of you performed like millionaires in bed.
“When Barcelona fell, you and she flew to England, and
then took a ship back to New York. Your love for each other
remained in Spain. It was only a war love. You loved only
yourselves, loving each other in Spain during the war. On
the Atlantic you were different toward each other and became
every day more and more like people lost from each other.
“Every wave on the Atlantic was like a dead seagull dragging
its driftwood artillery from horizon to horizon.
“When the ship bumped up against America, you departed
without saying anything and never saw each other again. The
last I heard of you, you were still living in Philadelphia. "
“That’s what you think happened up there?” I said.
“Partly, " he said. "Yes, that’s part of it. "
He took out his pipe and filled it with tobacco and lit it.
“Do you want me to tell you what else happened up there?”
he said.
“Go ahead.”
“You crossed the border into Mexico, " he said. "You
rode your horse into a small town. The people knew who
you were and they were afraid of you. They knew you had
killed many men with that gun you wore at your side. The
town itself was so small that it didn’t have a priest.
“When the rurales saw you, they left the town. Tough as
they were, they did not want to have anything to do with you.
The rurales left.
You became the most powerful man in town.
You were seduced by a thirteen-year-old girl, and you
and she lived together in an adobe hut, and practically all
you did was make love.
“She was slender and had long dark hair. You made love
standing, sitting, lying on the dirt floor with pigs and chickens
around you. The walls, the floor and even the roof of the
hut were coated with your sperm and her come.
“You slept on the floor at night and used your sperm for
a pillow and her come for a blanket.
“The people in the town were so afraid of you that they
could do nothing.
“After a while she started going around town without any
clothes on, and the people of the town said that it was not a
good thing, and when you started going around without any
clothes, and when both of you began making love on the back
of your horse in the middle of the zocalo, the people of the
town became so afraid that they abandoned the town. It’s
been abandoned ever since. "People won’t live there.
“Neither of you lived to be twenty-one. It was not neces-
sary.
“See, I do know what happened upstairs, " he said. He
smiled at me kindly. His eyes were like the shoelaces of a
harpsichord.
I thought about what happened upstairs.
“You know what I say is the truth, " he said. "For you
saw it with your own eyes and traveled it with your own body.
Finish the book you were reading before you were interrupted.
I’m glad you got laid. "
Once resumed the pages of the book began to speed up
and turn faster and faster until they were spinning like wheels
in the sea.
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Where are you from? over 2 years ago
Los Angeles (the brewery/highland park/hollywood/and now south pasadena) born and raised and want to get out. lived in SF for a bit and loved it but ideally i wanna move to melbourne or europe.
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STOP THE LISTS! over 2 years ago
josh s- i like his prepared piano stuff
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