I made a small section to the left for documentaries. If you ever want to see something I’ve posted in the past. Seemed appropriate.

Below is a documnetary on william S burroughs. Just before posting this I was in the bathroom, and I read this qoute from the place of dead roads. It seems to fit.

As soon as you name something you reduce its power, of course, the power of a foulness is essential to their function….They must be too horrible to name or look at…..If you could look Death in the face he would lose his power to kill you. Quien es? When you ask Death for his credentials you are dead. His passport picture is your deathmask…..So the foul long for purity, which they can only see as food, and the pure want a vicarious little whiff of foulness.
And this annoys the foul. “Oh dear, you’re all sick and ugly inside, are’nt you, you poor little creature…..”

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There is an immediate urge to categorize things, to find their humanity, and by humanity I mean flaws, in order to bring them down, cut them at the knees so that you are then able to then compare yourself to them, even the playing field in a sense. People it often seems would rather destroy something then build themselves up to it. Thats not always the case, and sometimes you really do just want to learn. But there is an underlying urge to de myth these creatures. The olden days had vampires and frankensteins, Hydras and dog men. Our heroes and celeberties are our monsters now, monsters a million feet tall in their works which we try to humanize, in order to look them eye to eye. We use documentaries and exposes. Often the urge to understand is not a cosmic one, but an egotistical one. I dont mean me of course, im impervious to human flaws. Its part of my alien make up. Its everyone else im talking about.

The place of dead roads is the first burroughs book I’ve ever finished, plus a couple others, the cat inside and a short novella, something about a jungle with wild monkies. I remember first reading naked lunch. I loved the way he wrote, and some of the ideas it held. Yet the gay mucus creature/human sex/rape became to much. I remember about one third through the book I simply couldnt take it. I threw the book across the room, and that was that. Its strange that the most haneous murder stories, terrible torture and necrophelia can all be stomached, yet the idea of something gay is to much to handle. Perhaps it was fear, I dont know. maybe i’ve grown now….It would be terrible news if it was into a gay alien, this planet needs more of me. Even typing this, there is this slight tinge, oh no, I hope i dont come off as a slave to the anus. What silly shit. I remember once someone saying how they liked that goodbye horses song from silence of the lambs, but would never speak of it for fear of the dreaded label. Bowie could suck a thousand dicks on easter I replied. Its no matter to me, I still love his music. Of course his songs werent graphic depictions of bizarre sex acts, not quite. Anyway, to detest great writing and amazing concepts for sexual leanings is preposterous. Enjoy boy.

ANIMAL FRIENDS VIDEO.

I LOVE YOU LIVER.

Its my friend kevins birthday today. I dont know how old he is, i dont fuck about that shit. This is an old song I made, its dedicated to my liver…..this ones goin out to kev.

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IN SALT WATER.

While im in the vaults, I have this song, its from a comedy album me and my friend cousins were working on many years ago, it was skits and songs……..This is all that remains. The world aches.

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Get the mother fucking paparazzi away.

Made these two short videos last week.

Two new books I had printed.

WHERE WOLVES HOWL - 100 page collection of poetry and art. Each page was individually soaked in beer, set on fire, creatures faces and eyes coming through the holes in the pages. Matchstick crosses are everywhere. 15$. Email for info. hart@tawdryproductions.com

SUCK MY PUSSY, SUCK MY DICK. 180 pages color, group project.

NEW PAINTINGS.

The mayor.  SOLD.

cigarette burns.  3 pieces of wood.  About waist high and torso wide.  200$.

FRISKO.  SOLD.

Driving in to toronto with gordie today for his show friday. A Photography show. I wrote a sprawling review on it last night, deep in the drink. I’ve seen the show here in montreal already. Anyway, the review was good and entertaing, but its easier to just say its some beautiful work, large images of decent nude woman and medium sized dinks surrounded by strange bright and pastel exposures that they wear like royalty.  And it has a great name.

7-11 Friday, sponsored by boris, which means free disaster grenades. Details are in the flyer below.

I’d completely given up on seeing trash humpers. The new harmony korine movie. its Playing at the toronto film festival. When i looked at the prices they were in the hundreds. Then last weekend out of the blue, a friend, gordie, is like, im driving up to toronto in a black van. Hes doing a photography show there. Fuck i said, fantastic. The plan is to go to toronto, then I’m going to london to film a short film.

The short film is about a depressed karaoke singer obsessed with the beach boys. In a state of drunk and in a near weep he sings KOKOMO on stage, bar to bar. He despises the barenaked ladies for even mentioning brian wilson in a song, let alone riding the worm train as a chrous. And true to his beliefs he wears make up and despises actual barenaked ladies. Its not a matter of gayness, simply principals. Oh he’ll sleep with a woman, but she better at least have a sock on. Theres about a fifty fifty chance any of this will be filmed, maybe more like 20/80. 20 being the percentage of filming commencing and eighty being a time in london spent partying…..only partying.

Today on a whim, not even thinking about it, I went to harmony-korine.com, a fan site. And decided to check the showings of trash humpers. Well the tickets were only 20 dollars, i was looking at packages before. Herzogs bad lieutenant and my son my son what have ye done are sold out. So is the imaginarium of dr parnassus, all of which i’d love to see. But those will get distribution soon.

But Now i have a ticket for trash humpers. A movie about old people who drink in alleys, dance and sing, and hump trash. I havent been this happy in a eternity. A fleeting happiness, but fuck it. Thats why i love alcohol, drugs, movies and art. That sympohnic happiness is always there, you just need to know how to push the right buttons to get the music to play.

and at the bottom of the page linked below is a one minute clip that really gets me excited.

TRASH HUMPERS CLIP.

I should probably thank my mother, she left work early and waited in line half an hour for the tickets. The evil woman is a saint.

if there was no death
i couldnt bare
to be alive

when the darkness
stares you
in the eyes
you can only
see your
reflection
in the pupil

when the
brightness
controls
your field of vision
all you can see
is your shame

maybe all dogs
do go to heaven
but theres a real
hell in the meat grinder
right before

thats heavenly
discount meat
for a man/woman
who hates to spend

down in china town
to much of a good thing
can be a terrible thing
for a meaty litter
of labradors

the golden boys
get it
real quick.
a mediocre companion
and a mediocre product.

sure its
A-ok sueflay

but what a bogie
for the golden boys

and its not true,
what i say,
they are
good companions

uncle elkos on the moonshine

the voice of the towering trees
come from little insect lungs
that nest in the feathers
of the owl folk.

a birds need
to be paid attention to
by its
female contemporates
with its
untrained
lung
is unacceptable

i believe
…..
on this
…..
i can agree
with the cats
at six am

when it comes to
their views on tuna
nectar though
i pursuade myself
to speak the truth
i would not mix
that with my
vodak

well with all these dogs
in heaven
where do the cats go

purrrrrgatory
i suppose