"Call Me Burroughs records a quasi-magical revenge attack on a Boulder deli from which two of his opiated friends had recently been thrown out. First, Burroughs arranged for a surreptitious tape recording to be made inside the deli—ambient noise, kitchen clatter, waitress-customer banter—and then, days later, with equal surreptitiousness, he played it back from a cassette recorder inside his coat as he sat at one of the tables. As Miles writes: “Over the next hour he increased the volume so that you could just about hear it, but no one appeared to notice.” Yet subliminal damage was being inflicted: discontinuous time streams, information feedback. “After forty-five minutes … one of the waiters threw down his apron and stalked out, followed by the owner, arguing loudly. The owner returned and began to scream at the serving staff, sending two of the women running to the ladies’ room in tears.” Burroughs, psychic vandal, was 63 years old at the time of this incident."
The following images are from humon on deviantart. They’re fun on their own but anybody involved in spec-fic should check this kind of thing out if you want to avoid the, “UHHHH PUT BOOBS ON IT?” pitfall of non-human (or even human) gendered character design.
Disclaimer: I have been trying to write this for almost a year and I’m tremendously dissatisfied with the result. It is three and a half thousand words long and has been drafted and revised so many times that I give up and release it from this endless, painful gestation.
I have never owned a table.
Sure, the place I live in has a table. It’s a glass table and it’s considerably better than the slightly wobbly wooden table in the previous place I lived in but, being glass, I’m perpetually terrified it will break and then I’ll have to pay for it. Then I’ll have paid for a table and still never have actually owned one.
I couldn’t tell you how much a table costs, but I did buy the cheapest and most basic desk for £50 once. I have a feeling I’d be charged a lot more than that if this table broke.
That philosophy extends to everything around me where I live, where I have lived: I don’t own it, but I will be paying for it if something goes wrong. There is a special sort of added excitement to this, since most of the places I’ve lived in have had all sorts of things wrong with them already, things from faulty electrics to ill-fitting windows to no doors that will close properly anywhere, that are never addressed. I’ve feared these things as well because I’ve wondered if I’m going to be the tenant who is deemed to be responsible for them, particularly because landladies and landlords seem to be curiously divorced from the properties they own. They always live far away, or they’re out of town or they’re overseas again. One landlady looked around a flat I was renting from her with surprise and awe and bafflement, failing to recognise many of its features.
do not fall in love with people like me. i will take you to museums, and parks, and monuments, and kiss you in every beautiful place, so that you can never go back to them without tasting me like blood in your mouth. i will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. and when i leave you will finally understand, why storms are named after people.
i am manacled to a chair in a dark room. the smells of leather and fear fill my nostrils. the Dominatrix leans into my sweating face and hisses, “you are a talented and beautiful person, and you will be very successful.” I begin to scream uncontrollably ,
By utilizing the specific imagery of chopping wood and clearing brush, economic individualism was fused with the aura of rugged masculinity. “Real” men were constructed as solitary and self-interested. The constructivist strategy infused this masculinization into politics by contrasting their rugged, masculinized “frontiersmen” with effeminized political counterparts. Americans witnessed numerous images of Reagan strongly hoisting his axe, while his predecessor Jimmy Carter had been better known for being attacked by a swamp rabbit; an attack which was framed by the media as an example of both presidential and personal weakness. The more recent images of Bush - who redefined himself as a Texan and, hence, someone not to be “messed with” – wielding a chain saw were in direct contrast to John Kerry wind-surfing; an act which was portrayed as effete and effeminate.
The overall constructivist strategy has been to overlay a masculine/feminine dichotomy onto the political. Views based on extolling the self-serving, competing individual are infused with a masculinity always viewed as positive, while claims of equality and fairness are marginalized and devalued as feminine. The aim is to suture together a patchwork of social, economic and political policies which benefit only a few and then proffer this collection to the many based not on material relations but a constructed framework of values, norms and gender relations. It is this framework which underlies Brit Hume’s and Bill O’Reilly’s fulminations on Fox News concerning the supposed feminization of America. The devaluation of women by those engaged in constructivist politics is not solely an effect of irrationality or prejudice. Rather, it is a component of an overall strategy to utilize constructed gender relations as the template for validating economic inequality. The devaluation of women and the construction of economic inequality are thus mutually reinforcing.
i can’t wait until whichever heterosexual man is in charge of nukes decides his ego is bruised enough to warrant a launch