No doubt even the most poetic porn would never revive the faceless corpse to dance & sing (like the Chinese Chaos- bird)--but...imagine a script for a three-minute film set on a mythical isle of runaway children who inhabit ruins of old castles or build totem-huts & junk-assemblage nests--mixture of animation, special-effects, compugraphix & color tape-- edited tight as a fastfood commercial...
…but weird & naked, feathers & bones, tents sewn with crystal, black dogs, pigeon-blood—flashes of amber limbs tangled in sheets—faces in starry masks kissing soft creases of skin—androgynous pirates, castaway faces of columbines sleeping on thigh-white flowers—nasty hilarious piss jokes, pet lizards lapping spilt milk—nude break- dancing—victorian bathtub with rubber ducks & pink boners— Alice on ganja…
…atonal punk reggae scored for gamelan, synthesizer, saxophones & drums—electric boogie lyrics sung by aetherial children’s choir—ontological anarchist lyrics, cross between Hafez & Pancho Villa, Li Po & Bakunin, Kabir & Tzara- -call it “CHAOS—the Rock Video!”
No…probably just a dream. Too expensive to produce, & besides, who would see it? Not the kids it was meant to seduce. Pirate TV is a futile fantasy, rock merely another commodity—forget the slick gesamtkunstwerk, then. Leaflet a playground with inflammatory smutty feuilletons— pornopropaganda, crackpot samizdat to unchain Desire from its bondage.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment