Showing posts with label SOTOS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label SOTOS. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Apopthelema Entry 6 Part 2 by Kyle Nonneman


Wednesday, January 11, 2016

Apopthelema Entry 6 Part 2 by Kyle Nonneman


Apopthelema Entry 6 Part 2 by Kyle Nonneman

[Note: this was composed in prison where proof-reading facilities are notoriously bad. Please don't hold that against the author. You can contact Kyle through the link listed at the end of this entry.]



"I don't think Sotos' work needs to be upgraded or explicated by anyone,me included, and i think its inability to present the details and factors and signals that would facilitate an argument for its value as literature is one of the reasons it's among the most important writing being done today. It is scary, intense, ugly, honest, original, problematic, profoundly challenging stuff. It's also highly intelligent,refined and kind of a masterful example of writing at its most rendered and self investigating. All the more so because it's art refuses to give an inch to readers who need something conventionally beautiful,however offbeat to justify a book's assault."-Dennis Cooper

"These contemporary court artists, like many of past centuries, smugly pretend to spit in the eye of the exploiters while allowing themselves to be pampered,de-loused and when they arn't looking declawed.

The majority of these art and rock magazine styled rebels are playing out rebellion psychodramas to package and merchandise to consumerist sycophants. This strategy is the simulacra of terrorism: The content seizes in the frozen attitudinizing of pose and goes no further.

We must look to the true outsiders and not the would-be insiders for an artist truly capable of effective counter-terror against the insidious mantras of consumerist brainwash. Terror means a threat, and the outsider's version of Aesthetic Terrorism belongs to those performances or arrangements of words and pictures to unleash the reactionary impulses of police and bourgeois artist/critic alike . The kind of art that evokes this wrath,fear, and condemnation rejoices in the pagan spirit of schadenfreude which controverts the humanist piety of "enlightened victim". Anti-social sadisim rarely recives patronage, however. Outside the corrupting realm of societal handouts ,the Aesthetic Terrorist is the last bastion of aesthetic purity"-Adam Parfrey

I was recently accused of being close-minded and elitist. Allegedly my views don't allow for any dissension and this put me on the level of an ignorant fascist. This came from an individual who when asked about punk, brings up the eighties and name drops brand name acts that have little relevancy to the underground such as The Clash and Violent Femmes. Then, he prattles on about only caring about music and not giving a shit about the politics and the subculture. Which of course means they're simply a consumer who sees music as a consumer product to be purchased and consumed as a disposable form of entertainment. Not a lifestyle,not an identity, . Not a weapon of Aesthetic

Terrorism to fight against this world of shit and take back what they took away. No to them its just entertainment and a product.

They have no comprehension whatsoever of what lies beneath the pedestrian abyss of radio-friendly pop music. So when someone willfully chooses to sequester themselves from pop culture and sever their mass media feeder tube, consumer sheep will look at you like you're a fucking freak and close-minded. Because they don't know what your mind is open to. They don't know what exists beyond the simpleminded civilian shit played on television and radio. They're content with happy packaged sounds sold to their market demographic.

A sad fact is a lot of people who make ignorant claims of being open-minded and liking everything, are just conformist yes-men, afraid to step out of the herd and form a strong opinion about anything..
They're pop culture rape victims. Fucked so hard by pop culture they are too beaten and ashamed to take a stand on anything .

They're safe within their tiny fucking box and they don't color outside the lines, and they think this is being open minded.

They don't know a fucking thing about underground music yet they boast about their open-minded appreciation of all different styles of music.

In reality they just like all the different flavors of bubblegum sold to them .

It's as ignorant as saying you're a worldly eater and appreciate all different kinds of foods simply because you eat at all the different chain vendors in the food court at the mall ..... But never actually go to a restaurant or cook your own meals, let alone invent your own recipes...

These centroclines aren't fucking open-minded let alone appreciative of different kinds of music. No they're just sheep chained to a mass media feeder tube trying to put a dignified spin on their base ignorance.

Bubblegum is a sugary chemical substance mass produced in a factory. Giving you a short burst of sweetness before turning into a lifeless mass of rubber you can't swallow because it's indigestible and contains no nutrients. So you have to spit it into the gutter. Where it becomes litter...

So as such BubbleGum pop is an apt term for the shit they identify with. As the bovine herd conformists and peer pressure zombies that they are.

Like Ian Brady said, Individuality should be the highest value not servile social assimilation...


(contact Kyle at: http://www.writeaprisoner.com/template.aspx?i=z-16534211 )

Sunday, October 2, 2016

Apopthelema Entry 5 Part 1 by Kyle Nonneman

[Note: this was composed in prison where proof-reading facilities are notoriously bad. Please don't hold that against the author. You can contact Kyle through the link listed at the end of this entry.]




POSTED Monday, Oct 2, 2016


(A Eulogy For Rio Vance)

{Fans and Supporters of Apopthelema are all greatly encouraged to link/share and repost this to the Rio Vance (portland oregon) facebook page & her website riovance.com  &email it to her directly blameitonriovance@gmail.com ,she needs to read this, she needs to know how many people are aware of how diseased she is. Help drive the stakes into the heart of this psychic vampire}

"THE BRUTAL REALITY AND PAIN OF KNOWLEDGE..."-SOTOS
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"I SAW A MAN CRY ONCE , DOWN ON HIS KNEES IN THE CORNER OF A DARKENED CELL AND HIS PAIN MEANT NOTHING TO ME"-GIRA
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Rio Vance is a septicemic succubus inoculating us all with the toxin of her pestilence. Shes just like all the other failed fucking artists with so much potential shit out like an addict twitching in withdrawal.

She has me backed up against the walls of her post traumatic nihilism. Face smashed into unforgiving & incomprehensible perpetually mutating boundaries. Her love is a corrosive acid bath. She taints every life she touches with her poisoned ego. She used to be the remission to my diseased psyche. Now she is the disease . Infecting it with the mindless devotion of a cerebral parasite burrowing its way down into the depths of emotional repression. Ripping away the mask and revealing the skull beneath the skin. Peeling back the veil of secular reality like an addict puncturing an abscess. Bursting with stench. Like the Chicago casualty with her polaroids. She lives a meaningless life whose true value&purpose wont be actualized until shes dead to this heathen earth. Day by Day too broken inside to face the horrors of a waking existence in this world of shit. She tries to kill the memories but they all come cracking back to the surface. Smoke Ghosts freed from their glass chambered cage by the fire ignited by her despair. Smoke ghosts rise up from the stem possessing your body with demonic malignancy. In this apocalyptic new dark age my goal is to bring about the end of her world. From room 101 to the spirit of 1349. The counselor playing good cop tells her its just like being tickled. You cant help but laugh & secretly want to laugh again. Even if you don't want to admit how rough it was. If you follow the punchline of that cruel joke like the trackmarks on a junkies thigh,you realize were all cruelly bound in determinism to the entropy of our species. Trying to seek out a rational explanation for all this.... Becomes a struggle as desperate as the vehement claims she makes denying ever having an orgasm... Never mind the twitching serpents tongue crawling with reptilian cruelty past her smack deadened sex drive. Screams and whimpers summoning a knock at the door of the Joyce. Unfolding flowers. Rose petals crushed against unforgiving walls of muscle . Burning with fissures expanding further. Blooming into great heights of throbbing pain . My teeth sink into the soft folds.

Like the sutured petals of a perforated rosebud.

"THEY HAVE TO DENY THEMSELVES ANY LASTING PLEASURE,&WHEN THEY FALL IN LOVE, THEY DESTROY THERE LOVER OR ELSE TRANSFORM THEIR LOVE INTO DISTASTE & DESPAIR. SO ARTISTS TEND TO LOVE EITHER OBJECTS OR PEOPLE WHO RUN AWAY FROM THEM.SO THE FEMALE ARTIST REJECTS THE GOOD MALE ARTIST" -Acker