father step 1

His name is not Deleuze , it is Beach as in the sand under the pavement

in the crippled city I say crippled because it sounds right and for n o other reason who care what you read er think in yer responses of thinking I know and You know what the hell I am talking about

when I am not talking

who is talking here?

Is the reader speaking talking or is it a ramble like me old Kerouac I prefer the signifier Ramble I am a Rambler ramblin against agin death and its minions, cheap death


Death is a terrible thing , told my sister

hier soir, coffee in the cafeteria, smokin g of course

and some woman at the other end

gawking at me

what can U do I am dead been years of dead now

I am uGlee I am the UgliOsa the old friend of AntiOedIpUs and I rise betwixt cancer

and high noon

about drunk

something he mumbled about not getting drunk , yesterday

Mary, I .... something, drunk, cannot get DrunK....

To day is the day

I have been sober 22 years today....

dying in your crying

cry in your die

as it stares down

the bodies flock back

cold as ice

my temperment of death

Mona's delay in the sides of the wind

father step

He really is dying, the gasping, the body huffing, unconscious he slides slips to god g a w d con sciousness Kaddish Keen Lament Lorry of death SlIps him across stretches his arms on the bed t o grips the railing the pain

pain free



riPariS Was the SECond POet Her

Paris was the rejected boy of the gorrilla looking for the father. nOte we saY the Father, as for whats his name. well whether he does oR doesn``t matters not a snap fo fingers!

PariS was the SeCond Poet of Her ParanOiA and she ran away daughter of desIres KIllIng as UsuaAL the poet

and what was new about thAt?

EuRyDice was a Murderer.....

she midshipped Orpheus
ORPheuS PaRis and Her UnHip post 90s bUllshit. was ragged and telltom as a french canadian church, all repressed and dead undeRneath and Full of catholic shit

she wanted to say daddy to him

to say daddy when she came


was t`repressed t``admit s


the pLace Called Nay

Mon a was raped once by a bunch of secondrated poetasters. they were all killers and assforce fuckers who picked on young harps to get their , violent rocks, off, and smash her face agaisnt the WaLL cause she did Not Doo thIngs theiR way.

they called it a conform,......

she called it a dIctAte

calling A Tyrant a tyrant.

likw other empires.

you see what I mean, you see what I mean?


but noonereally knew Artaud`s name she was hiding behind the barbed wire of the concentration camp

with other ones.

guttarl guattari was

guttaral guttari rose from the dead was the deconstructed reconstructed deraideres went

down the dingdong as the wept blue bullocks hurried fast the door was shambled rock their necks.

the Second time was the Ascension of Christ! and Gultari was dead, dead as a ped.

yount be gooled by repetitions young people are stupid

guLtarIi guattari was

yes I need to goout more and read my mountains and keep my cunts in order. but masks and jabs keep me outer public as my genitalismen Are I COMPlete GenItalAmEns adn Womens... and yes a aslUt was a Clutter cUlture of theIR vIrtue aNd MiNe

A breath of fresh air, a little relation to the outside, that's all schizoanalysis asks.

take the air in a tobacco trance said Franny one dicky day and she forget her Artaud that manic morning in her melancholy booms

guttaral guttari rose from the dead was the deconstructed reconstructed deraideres went

down the dingdong as the wept blue bullocks hurried fast the door was shambled rock their necks.

les Plages d` imMAnEnCe

after one thousAnd Years of DeReader Jill was LookiNg for the southernDrawl of her belle dresses and vowels her niightreadersand days the escaping paths of mouthsfull of rain. not like the cheap slitsluts of copycats and cheap ontario repressed jackasses, high school princoplies, adn second rate artists, and bumsters of the dead assed highgrade ugly ones.

caUse one thing JIll taught her, Mona, was that there was uGLy oNES.

and Mona was like her friend, the Antioedipus, a very Ughliosa!
and she was not so sad

that the JackydeReader was deadgone.

Deceased & gone to heave




the death of derrida by gilles Deleuze

the d e a t h

o f de r ea der




One MoRnIng

One dawn aube Jill said to Deleuze I love you I am a mathematican// F(r) anny laughed one or Several Miltonzzzzzzz I love my dancer the sigh of the night he dint remember me and maybe thats what St. Teresa meant, Be happy for what you don't have all the way to heaven is heaven for has she not said Her is the pithpath? Giggle saith Mona in her dirndl dress, is that how you pellmellitspell it bagyy? Sock it to me honey I am the swarm of much the night in its tattered wear and stare


so then the tanger was sanger in its blood by the rood of the christ of the angelic committes and theIr fEmAle Stoned Angels

by wounded fanny she knew her moleculed revolts were passable pubs and pullables into thee present pasts and their arts.


mental case!!!-- heressyer Efffing Meaning!

ADVERTISEMENT for a worser world. than whirled by william blake and the four decadedent angels of the Cross Corinthians.

Hi Patterfeces, I would be very careful and Not Listen to anything this guy
Bevo says he is not a good student. In fact, he was fired by Guattari
for misrepresenting Deleuze along with Zizek!

hahahahahah Home

Reply Forward View Source Unwrap Lines Delete
Look at all this sHite of a day book for an Irish transporter or is that an Irish transpoder . So then we space the ankle between the punctuations of graphs and disraphism and soundalikes to gotogetherbetter like suckers do.

And Anti saw, all the messages, gleamed in the Yahoo frost.

Message 1016 of 1016 Previous Next [ Up Thread ] Message Index Msg #

From: "rimbaudboyo"

Subject: Re: Digest Number 312

ADVERTISEMENT this is where the commerical usually is but last where the late birds swang.

_____________________ One has to imagine stairs.

Subject: Re: Digest Number 312

ADVERTISEMENT and yet again the Mute dog, the Sign of death and its other cultivations!

--- In space and time "rimbaudboyo"the boywondertrouble saith:

> some things never change. i remember when rimbaudboyo was ye
»»»________enuciation is a big scam! hahahahah
»»--- I rimbaudboyo eat E NUnS for breakY



Subject: Re: Digestible numbers

--- same old ? oh lordy out of the schizslum and here is what? this
what& come now are thee Sincere? they keep their Sintax anD we Pay. O
facists Rulers of the GrammaR gangsteriSm!

a sexy lover of choice& desire

Subject: fucken mental case

---u are a fucken mental case ! and cannot write anything!!

"rimbaudboyo" wrote:
> Hi Paul, I would be very careful and Not Listen to anything this guy Boovo says hes not a good! student!! what! Yelling! again!
fucking facsist!
not a good student. In fact, he was fired by Guattari
> for misrepresenting Deleuze along with Zizek!
> hahahahahah

From: "rimbaudboyo"

Subject: Re: Help with a "What is Philosophy?" quote

---dearest reader! it is not clear what U
wish! dea Sir Schizostinker! why dont u go and buy the book!
i mean are we here to serve! You! why should I rimbaudboyO send any
thng in francais to you reader readershrieks!

___________________________ «I have not stolen my own words. I am Milton I am the jewel In the Nile.
> "The virtual is no longer the chaotic virtual but rather virtuality
that has
> become consistent, that has become an entity formed on a plane of
immanencethe body without idiots! its coming to the slander of capitalism all over our assholesss!!
> that sections the chaos. This is what we call the Event, or the
part that
> eludes its own actualisation in everything that happens. The event
is not the
> state of affairs. It is actualised in a state of affairs, in a
body, in a
> lived [..sic.. Sick! Ill give you sick alright!! ......part that is
> subtracted from or added to its actualisation: in contrast with the
state of
> affairs, it neither begins not ends but has gained or kept the
> movement to which it gives consistency."
Previous Next [ Up Thread ] Message Index Msg #

From: "rimbaudboyo"

Subject: Re: Digest Number 312________ problems with digestion???????????

--- u see i told ye its the same damn thing french italisan enaleighs. chines, whatevers.its all shitenguage

a sexy lover of choice& desire


for any student of capitalism and schizophrenia this isthe real questions--- that is the FuCkening eCoMy of desIre

Here is the real fucken`economy of the capitalist machinery. SomeOne gets a free ride to go and get money to bullshit and you dont. that is the difference. arsehole!

why is that man so brittle couplets everywhere where

Couples Everywhere

Indead we do:We sometimes behave as though people can't express themselves:In hum drum deydare, though, we are not always expressing themselves. The sorriest couples are the ones in which the woman can't be preoccupied or tired without the man saying, SPEAK!!! "What's wrong? Say something," or the man, without the woman saying... and so on. Radio and tellk, insane amounts off words and images. Stupidity is never blind or mute. So the problem is no longer getting people to express themselves, but providing little gaps of solitude and silence in which they mon't stop people from expressing themselves, but rather, force them to express themselves. What a relief to have nothing to say, the right to say nothing, because only then is there a chance of framing the rare, or even the rarer, the thing that might be worth saying.

On Fri, 20 Jun 1997

Why is that man so brutal? And such a show off! Mone dieu, has he
read his brains on his asshole! Why is he so cruele? SO anglais with that
arrogance. Perhaps he stidie'd at a English boarding school?? And his
garden who care? Not my friends, for shure. I am sorry Mona, that things
are like dat in your liste. Not so, here in France. I think we should have
a meeting. And you know neither Feli or Gilles was like that. They allways
wanted people to learn. Call Fanny too! Call Kathe too! she will help a

On Fri, 20 Jun 1997 Fr(anny) got a note she was planning to send to
the list about Felix and Gilles. The note was from Mona, and it said:

"Oh really, Henry, Pick on Someone yer own Size," said
Mona and she ran over to Jill's. And said, "what is his problem?"
and then she said, "alright. Here is what I think."
Then she wrote in a blinding flash of courage and inspiration!
(For those of you who don't know Mona and Jill, they had grown
up reading Harlequin Romances, Kathy Acker, Colette, Doris
Lessing, and Angela Carter.)

"Give it a break Henry, Christ man, not everyone is up your
lofty levels of learnedness. You could try perhaps trying to understand that not everyone here lays claims to "knowing," and speaking with authority about
what you seem so glibly "know."
In any case (tant pis), I rather like your pedantic tone at times, and having
said that much, I appreciate that you would say to Jim, dig this is the epistolary scene and swing with it etcetera.... On the other hand (and being a true Celt In Transit, she was always on the other hand; part of her degendering selfhood etc.) Hand...."
Mona put down her pen and wiped her ass with a picture of a
Parisian intellectual's face. Walked out the door and flew to Paris. Jill
joined her at the airport. They flew fast and hurried, rumbling over the
dromotext of the skyways. Time was no barrier, that is space, she thought.
Meaning she had read her Virilio too. Yes, so they arrived in Pairs in
Paris and the Light! But Mona was so upset, she never finished the
They went right to Paris (after landing at Charles deGaulle airport [where
else?), and then planned to meet Fanny and the girls on the Boulevard
Michel to have a conference - a real conference about Manners, Good
Manners and Courtoise! Something their friend Henri, and perhaps
secretly, even a person of good repute once knew about!

Mona meets Her friend Fanny.
Fanny calls Jean Genet's denied daughter.
They decide they want to meet Stanley the guy from Paris picking
on Jim. Poor Jimmy! right of out the deleuzoguattarian list was a little
much at times, but on the other hand he was sincere. Geez thought Fanny,
admittedly these are virtues short in supply these days. But then who
wasn't a "little much" at times. I mean there was that time when everyone
was quoting these abominably long texts in each mail, God they were awful.
Jill leaned over to Fanny, Fanny whispered where there is one there are
many. I am hole with out a part maybhe Stanly can fix my violent streak. I
need to kiss a real male intellectual with his pants down! Oh dear. Mona
was blushing while listening to Fanny. Fanny you see was the first denied daughter in history standing up for her rights and wrongs! Oh my thought Mona, if Henri meets Jill he will love her, and by loving her love me. And then he will
love Jimmy and no one will have to go to the toilet and beat him up.

Fanny blew her nose. Beat who up? what nazi? Mona wrote another
text - well really Jill wrote it, but Mona signed it.

Mona said On June 12:
Who isnt a little much at times, we are all learning arent we?
--> Henry, Henry, Henri, be nice be nice be nice
--> be nice be nice be nice be nice be nice be be nice
--» be nice --- >--- > be nice----> be nice nice nicer nicer nicer nicer nicer nicer nice and your ------> phonemes will rhyme better yer brains will desire more. Yer machines will----> click more, your paranoid reactionary self will be less dominate, your acid wit might help the workers. Yer sarcastic bite might help the street, the end of the wit is the acerbic death of the dealer in wit. Down with you and yer un-nice punches. > >

Then Jill said:

We are violent on many levels . Fine but why? Oh no simple
questions for the erudite learned ones? what ever happened to

explosions of desire?

a delire
hum of machines
him of schizophrenia
schisophrenize always


Finally Kathe said. I like Jimmy.

And I like you
and I gotta use words when I talk to you.