"The Object of Surrealism is Moral. "
Dale Houstman
"cythera" <cyt...@my-deja.com> wrote in message
news:fadef76.01092...@posting.google.com...
> Jonathan wrote Dale:
>
> "While the world is fighting to provide itself the nutrients for
> future growth you point out the decay and claim it's all
> a waste of time."
>
> --- Jonathan
>
I can only assume cythera's posting of this muddy "thought" means she thinks
it means something? Jonathan appears to think the best compost for progress
is the blood of those we weren't bleeding fast enough before. An interesting
bit of horticulture that. Green thumbs, and red hands.
dmh
Brandon Freels
"cythera" <cyt...@my-deja.com> wrote in message
news:fadef76.01092...@posting.google.com...
> Jonathan wrote Dale:
>
> "While the world is fighting to provide itself the nutrients for
> future growth you point out the decay and claim it's all
> a waste of time."
>
> --- Jonathan
>
>
> "... the object of surrealism is moral.
>
> "The demands it may elicit from you do not fall short of a furious
> revolutionary perspective concerning language, poetry, love, science,
> eroticism, politics, dependent on an imaginative exaltation of
> disquieting materials and potential renewal of latent powers requiring
> a purification of means well within your grasp, as easy as the day
> swallowing the night."
>
> --- Philip Lamantia, from City Lights Anthology, 1974.
>
>
> cythera.
Dale Houstman
"Brandon Freels" <b.j.f...@worldnet.att.net> wrote in message
news:RNbr7.5327$WW.4...@bgtnsc05-news.ops.worldnet.att.net...
> And the point of this post is...
The point of both Jonathan's comments and cythera's seems to be that they
want to prove to us that they are just energetic enough to drag themselves
out of their infertile torpor and get to the computer. This effort appears
to take everything out of them, and they are reduced to spouting a sort of
gangrene mist (which they confuse with conversation) into the air.
dmh
Morpheal
Many have attempted the quest. Similarly to the grail quest in
Christendom, so essential to the attainment of knighthood, the quest
for the most true and holy surreal object continues, generation after
generation. Many have claimed to have found it, but it is always lost
again, and must be sought for anew. Future generations of novice
surrealists will continue the quest, for the most true and holy surreal
object... and some may find it.
M.
Nik Maack
Morpheal wrote:
> No one has yet found the true object of surrealism.
I did. Benny Goodman left it on my sofa. I found it there the night
after a riotous party. It looked suspiciously like a condom full of
guacamole. I hung it on the wall to dry. Wasps snuck into my home and
built a nest in it.
Something about "the true object of surrealism" changed the wasps. They
threw their stingers away, and spent their days gathering cucumber
seeds. Just above their home, they arranged the seeds on the wall to
create a portrait of Jesus Christ eating a Twinkie.
Later that day, Benny Goodman stopped by. "I left something on your
sofa," he muttered, wobbling drunkenly before me though it was not yet noon.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said.
Goodman punched me in the face and rushed into the living room.
"Wasps built a nest in it!" I warned him as I picked myself up off the floor.
"Damn it," Goodman yelled, and tore the condom from the wall and stuffed
it in his right ear. Stingerless wasps circled his head, crawling into
his nose and across his eyes. "Mozart never suffered the way I did when
I ate two pounds of raw garlic," Goodman said, and kicked me on the shin.
He stumbled out the door, the wasps trailing after him. I was left with
the cucumber seed portrait and a few shreds of Goodman's toupee.
Nik
john adams
"Morpheal" <morp...@sympatico.ca> wrote in message news:3BBA3979...@sympatico.ca...
> No one has yet found the true object of surrealism.
>
> Many have attempted the quest. Similarly to the grail quest in
> Christendom, so essential to the attainment of knighthood, the quest
> for the most true and holy surreal object continues, generation after
> generation. Many have claimed to have found it, but it is always lost
> again, and must be sought for anew. Future generations of novice
> surrealists will continue the quest, for the most true and holy surreal
> object... and some may find it.
>
The object of Morphealism on the other hand...
Morpheal
> He stumbled out the door, the wasps trailing after him. I was left with the cucumber seed portrait and a few shreds of Goodman's toupee.
After that, every time I put on a recording of Benny Goodman's music, he
would yell and curse at me. He kept saying something about the wasps
having produced an annoying hum in his microphone. He claimed it had
spoiled the entire session. It no longer mattered which recording I put
on my stereo system, the result was the same. Benny Goodman always
yelling and screaming, out from the speakers, that the wasps had ruined
the recording by producing that aweful buzzing and humming in his
microphone.
I went over to my friend's and he heard it too. Benny Goodman yelling
and screaming about the wasps causing a horrible buzzing and humming in
his microphone. He tried to put one of his recordings on his stereo
system and it was the same. It was Benny again, yelling and screaming,
while the music played. The same thing about wasps and the persistence
of that humming and buzzing ever since the stingerless wasps entered his
ear from the green condom.
The next day the newspaper had a small paragraph, at the bottom of a
back page, about a brain surgeon who claimed he could remove stingerless
wasps, safely and effectively, from the brain of any musician. That and
not damage the musician's talents. I stared at the article
incredulously. It was very unlikely that the procedure would prove safe
and effective. Besides that, it had come far too late, to save Benny
Goodman from the buzzing and humming in his microphone. The same that he
attributed to the stingerless wasps that kept flying in and out of his
head, via all of its orifices. They had made their way to his mouth and
down into his vocal chords. The buzzing and humming could only become
worse. No one had any idea, in Benny Goodman's days, how to remove
stingerless wasps. They say yellow jackets are worse. There has even
been mention of a red species of mosquito native to some parts of South
America and the far east having similar effects. The reports kept coming
in of more species of insect having mutated along the same lines as the
stingerless wasps. My friend and I decided there was little hope left
for the world. Benny Goodman faded out into the night, still yelling and
screaming, about the buzzing and humming in his microphone. The
phonograph needle continued to go click, click, click, click....
We watched television, and the news was showing a long line of musicians
lined up at the brain surgeon's office. The same one who had been
mentionned at the bottom of the back page in the newspaper. They were
all having the same problem as Benny Goodman. We wondered if Benny had
been the first. Now they all had it similarly. Some claimed it was
stingerless bees, rather than wasps. Others spoke of hornets. The one
thing they all had in common was that their recordings had been ruined
by the strange buzzing and humming, after the stingerless insects had
shown themselves, flying in and out of their orifices.....
We turned off the news and went over to the stereo to chat with Benny
Goodman. We wanted some more clues as to what had happened. He yelled
and screamed about the humming and buzzing, refusing to discuss it with
us. I think he blamed us for it, though it was not in any way our fault.
He was the one who decided to take the green condom and stuff it in his
ear. If he had asked we would have warned him that it belonged in the
future, not in his recording. He would never have listened to our
warning anyway. It is the way musicians tend to be. We turned off the
stereo and Benny Goodman faded out, into a quiet buzzing and humming
kind of fade. We knew he would be back, soon enough. We waited for the
knock on the door. The buzzing and humming was barely audible and
approaching from not far outside. If we remained very quiet we could
hear it. He would be back again very soon, knocking on our door. We were
afraid he might be angry at us.... so we barricaded the furniture to
block the way, and then hid ourselves, crouching, behind the stereo
cabinet. There we waited, for Benny's revenge,.....
M.
Morpheal
> The object of Morphealism on the other hand...
Is ultimately to externalize the original creativity of surrealism
into the morphing of the entire universe into whatever might make
it more fun.
M.
Nik Maack
Morpheal wrote:
>There we waited, for Benny's revenge,.....
The situation resolved itself the way it always does in these sorts of
circumstances -- Martha Stewart intervened. She saw Goodman in the
hallway of my apartment and seduced him with her taffeta gown and a
plate of freshly baked scones. Goodman was lured into her apartment
where she tied him up, stripped him nude, arranged his chest hair in a
festive pattern, and then fucked his brains out. Literally. His brains
now sit on her mantelpiece in an attractive stainless steel surgical
pan. The stingerless wasps chose to stay with the gray matter, much to
Benny's relief.
Benny Goodman, like many artists and musicians, was much better off
without a brain. He went on to make some of his best music. Although,
when not playing or singing, he leaned against walls or people and
drooled until puddles formed at his feet. Or, during a rare trip to
outer space on the space shuttle Challenger, on the ceiling.
Nik