“I talk about the world of which the majority of filmmakers do not care to speak, the marginal world. I am a most unopportunistic filmmaker. I am the one who always wants to make the films that are not supposed to be made. I’m the one interested in the subjects that everyone else has agreed not to talk about.” — Eloy de la Iglesia

‘A Basque director, born in Zarautz in 1944, Eloy de la Iglesia tried to get into the EOC, but he wasn’t old enough, so he started working in the Popular Children’s Theatre Company. His first full-length film was precisely a film for children Fantasía…3. In 1968 he directed Algo amargo en la boca which gave him his first problems with the censors.

‘He joined the Spanish Communist Party in 1971 and since then he combined his political activism with films that show a deep political commitment to the working-classes. He achieved notoriety in 1970 with El techo de cristal (Glass Ceiling) and La semana del asesino (Week of the Killer) a year later. However it was to be after Franco’s death, during the Transition, when Eloy de la Iglesia established a personal kind of cinema with provocative powerful images, in which he dealt openly with homosexuality, hypocrisy, drugs and juvenile delinquency in films like Los placeres ocultos (Hidden Pleasures, 1976), El diputado (The Deputy, 1978), Navajeros (1980) El pico (1983) and El pico II (1984).

‘In 1987 he directed La estanquera de Vallecas which was to be his last film before he disappeared for a while due to personal problems. In 1996 the San Sebastián Festival devoted a retrospective to his work that led him to return to the world of cinema.

‘De la Iglesia was an outspoken gay socialist filmmaker who is relatively unknown outside Spain despite a prolific and successful career in his native country. He is best remembered for having portrayed urban marginality and the world of drugs and juvenile delinquency in the early 1980s. Part of his work is closely related to the phenomenon popularly known in Spain as quinqui films, to which he contributed with several works. His film are an example of commitment to the immediate reality. They were made with honesty and great risk, against the conformist outlook of most movies of its time.’ — collaged

 

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Stills

 

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Further

Eloy de la Iglesia @ Wikipedia
EdlI @ IMDb
The cinema of ‘Eloy de la Iglesia : marginaliy and transgression
Le cinéma d’Eloy de la Iglesia : marginalité et transgression
Eloy de la Iglesia y José Luis Manzano: una historia de amor, cine, heroína y autodestrucción
Prostitución, heroína y comunismo: la terrible historia de amor de Eloy de la Iglesia y Manzano
“Eloy de la Iglesia ha sido la persona más incómoda de la cultura española reciente”
La mandarina mecánica de Eloy de la Iglesia
ELOY DE LA IGLESIA’S QUINQUI COLLECTION
Embodiments of Class and Nation in Eloy de la Iglesia’s Gay Films
The triple kiss of Eloy de la Iglesia
Eloy de la Iglesia y la Transición que no fue: la marginalidad hecha poesía
« Mon cinéma est comme un journal » : les films d’Eloy de la Iglesia

 

_____
Extras

Eloy De La Iglesia Collection Trailer

Eloy de la Iglesia. Oscuro objeto de deseo

José Luis Manzano ENTREVISTA! con Eloy De La Iglesia

Debate con Eloy de la Iglesia tras el visionado de “El pico”

 

_____
Interview

 

______________
17 of Eloy de la Iglesia’s 23 films

______________
Cuadrilátero (1970)
‘A boxing manager discovers that one of the boxers who have been promoted in love with a protected model and his mistress. Mad with jealousy, organized a match between it and another fighter who are friends with each other. Revenge in this case will be bitter.’ — letterboxd

the entirety

 

_______________
The Cannibal Man (1972)
‘Legit shocked that something as blatantly homo-centric and anti-fascist as this actually made it past the Spanish censors in 1972. There’s a hypnotic quality to Iglesia’s focus on long takes and fluid, swooping camera movement — a real sense of unhurriedness even as the bodies start piling up in what is essentially our protagonist’s literal closet. I noticed a few images and compositions that Iglesia later reused in Los placeres ocultos — Spain’s first openly gay movie — which seems significant, especially considering the bent that the back-half of this takes.’ — Evan

Trailer

 

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No One Heard the Scream (1973)
‘A Hitchcockian premise with a final reel rug-pull and a side order of incest, No One Heard the Scream drags its protagonist through some interesting dilemmas. An alternative title could’ve been Cock-struck By a Killer, as this thriller turns into an icky romance which proceeds to get even more troubled into the second and third act.

‘One of my biggest problems with a large portion of Spanish and Italian thrillers of the era is the gob-smackingly terrible score and songs used throughout. They have literally no place in a movie like this, managing to kneecap any atmosphere as it painstakingly develops. For those looking for an engrossing narrative, you’ll be shit out of luck.

‘This is the first continental European thriller I’ve seen in a while that does some good ol’ fashioned geography switch-ups, as the story takes place in London, which is shot guerrilla style in the opening five minutes, only to revert to Spain (doubling for London) for most of the movie. The London landscape porn in the opening reel is great.’ — Daryl

Excerpt

 

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To Love, Perhaps to Die (1973)
‘Kubrick’s Lolita, Sue Lyon, plays a nurse with a yen for murdering young studs post-coitus. The television, when not hawking revolting blue beverages and animal print underwear, attribute her crimes to a deranged homosexual serial killer. She’s eventually discovered and blackmailed by David, who’s on the run from his band of leather-clad, behelmeted droogs. Meanwhile she’s courted by her boss, Victor (Jean Sorel), whose lab experiments seek to annihilate inherent criminality. Iglesia sympathizes with the hustlers and nihilists without beatification, while simultaneously unloading weapons-grade scorn on the media, medical establishment and law. “I couldn’t care less about being useful to society!” David shouts after receiving advice from the television. The line seems to come directly from Iglesia.

‘Less a remake of A Clockwork Orange than a grungy karaoke version, To Love, Perhaps to Die has more fun with the material (though no one could accuse Kubrick’s film of being humorless) by embracing its potential as an exploitation piece without sacrificing an ounce of the political commentary. Iglesia’s plot argues in part that state violence trickles down to create a fevered, empty society with its tail in its mouth. The joyous carnage on display makes the case that obscenely belching out such arguments is as necessary as it is fun.’ — Screen Slate

Trailer

Excerpt

 

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Forbidden Love Game (1975)
‘Eloy de Iglesia’s lost rarity `Forbidden Love Game’ would sit comfortably next to `Salo: 120 Days Of Sodom’ as being a foreign, art house flick that borders on exploitation. When looking at Eloy de Iglesia’s other works though, this hardly comes as a surprise. Subsequently, Iglesia had made `Cannibal Man’ and `Murder In A Blue World’ (also known as `Clockwork Terror’), which were both exploitative B movies, hiding intelligent political ideas. His films tend to be meditations on characters that do warped and horrible things, yet we care about the characters, because you feel that they are politically (and irrationally) motivated through their poor economic circumstances. It is no surprise to me that Iglesia would choose to create a Spanish version of `A Clockwork Orange’ through his film `Murder In A Blue World’, because that very film is about a protagonist who does horrible things, yet. we’re sympathetic to what happens to him. Though the two films that were just mentioned are lesser known Spanish cult films, `Forbidden Love Game’ is even more obscure (I’m not sure the film was even released in the U.S.?). The film begins with a school teacher played by Javier Escriva bidding farewell to his students, who are leaving for the summer. As he is heading home he notices two of his students are hitch-hiking (a boy and a girl, played by John Moulder-Brown and Inma de Santis), and picks them up. He invites them over for dinner and lodging, which they accept.. The majority of the film from this point on is set at the mansion, where the two students turn from guests to prisoners under the teacher’s command. The teacher has a thuggish (yet sensitive) henchman played by Simon Andreu, who enforces the teacher’s wishes. The teacher begins to sexually humiliate and torture the two students until he has mentally brainwashed them into his way of thinking. What is really interesting about the movie from this point on, is that the scenes are relatively tame compared to a movie as notorious as `Salo’, but the viewer is put on edge through out, because you think something worse is in store for the students. The film needs to be seen to recognize the political ideal logy, but it’s just as evident as the other two films mentioned.’ — jlabine

Excerpt (dubbed into Italian)

 

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The Other Bedroom (1976)
‘Juan, a young man who works at a petrol station, is about to marry his girlfriend, Charo. Diana is a beautiful woman, whose husband, Marcos, makes her believe that she is responsible for not having children, although she knows very well that he is sterile. Marcos, an influential businessman with a brilliant political future, tolerates his wife any flirtation, even to maintain an affair with Juan.’ — IMDb

Excerpt

 

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Hidden Pleasures (1977)
‘In the pre-credits sequence of Spanish film maker Eloy de la Iglesia’s impassioned and compelling “Hidden Pleasures”, a handsome, 40ish man pays a young hustler. The older man (Simon Andreu) would seem to have everything: looks, the directorship of a major Madrid bank, social position. A classic Latin macho type, the banker easily conceals his homosexuality in his social and business world and is content to remain unattached in his private life, picking up street kids for sex.

‘Consequently, he’s as unprepared for the impact of true love as is the object of his obsession, a poor youth (Tony Fuentes) who believes that the interest Andreu has taken in him is purely platonic.

‘“Hidden Pleasures” is impressive in its own right as a work of courage, honesty and commitment. (If anything, it rings truer than “Parting Glances” or “My Beautiful Laundrette.”) It shows its age in the wide ties and lapels of the men’s clothes and in some of its heavily didactic gay-lib sentiments, but it is timeless in its grasp of human nature.’ — Kevin Thomas

Excerpt

Excerpt

Excerpt

 

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The Priest (1978)
‘Obsessed with fantasies of sex, Father Miguel seeks professional help through his church but they are not listening; thus leaving the Father in a dilemma; leaving the church or should he try, on his own, to surrender to these temptations?’ — letterboxd

Excerpt

 

_____________
El Diputado (1978)
‘Sex and politics collide in this tale of forbidden love, blackmail and murder. Set up by the secret police to compromise a prominent politician, a teenage hustler discovers himself …’ — christiebooks

Excerpt

 

_____________
Navajeros (1980)
‘Jose Manuel Gomez Perales, “El Jaro”, lives alone in Madrid, with no other company than his band and his “girlfriends.” One day he meets Mercedes, a prostitute of Mexican origin. Mercedes falls for him and offers him her home to take him apart from his life of crime.’ — letterrboxd

Trailer

Excerpt

 

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The Minister’s Wife (1981)
‘After getting caught in bed with him, Leonor Marchioness of Montenegro helps Rafael finds a new job in Madrid as the gardener in the mansion of Antonio Fernández Herrador, Minister of Economy. Immersed in his political career, the minister neglects his beautiful young wife, Teresa. Their marriage is going through a rough patch. Teresa, sexually frustrated with her husband’s impotence, begins to pay attention to the attractive young gardener. She becomes pregnant by her lover and wants to have the baby. The minister is outrage. He would like his wife to have an abortion, but she is determined to have the child. Confronted with his wife threats of divorce, the minister reluctantly accepts the situation since otherwise a scandal would ruin his political ambitions. The situation becomes murkier when a leftist terrorist group contact Rafael. They need his help in order to know the whereabouts of the Minister since they are planning his kidnapping.’ — IMDb

Excerpt

 

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Colegas (1982)
‘The plot follows the misadventures of two young friends who are forced into street hustling and ever-expanding life of crime when one impregnates the sister of the other and they need to get the money to pay for her to have an abortion.’ — letterboxd

Excerpt

Excerpt

 

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El Pico (1983)
‘El Pico is a 1983 Spanish film written and directed by Eloy de la Iglesia. It stars José Luis Manzano. The films centers on drug addiction, urban juvenile delinquency, and Basque nationalism in Spain during the 1980s.

‘El Pico was the most successful among several movies, notorious in the years of the Spanish transition to democracy, dealing with juvenile delinquency in Spain during the late 1970s and early 1980s, along with Perros Callejeros I and II, Los ultimos Golpes Del Torete, Yo el Vaquilla, mostly directed by Jose Antonio De La Loma; Navajeros , Colegas, El pico 2, directed by Eloy de La Iglesia and Deprisa, Deprisa by Carlos Saura and later La Estanquera De Vallecas, and others. These films starred unknown young untrained actors and were known as quinqui films.

‘Set in the Basque country in a cold and dark atmosphere, El Pico employs a rough, neo-realistic style. The film was De la Iglesia’s biggest box-office hit.’ — collaged

Trailer

Excerpt

 

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El Pico 2 (1984)
‘Paco, son of the commander of the Guardia Civil Evaristo Torrecuadrada, has been involved in Bilbao in the murder of a drug dealer couple. His fathers’ efforts in suppressing evidence have nothing to do when the crime appears in the press. Paco is arrested and goes to prison, where he return to do drugs.’ — IMDb

Trailer

Excerpt

 

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Otra Vuelta de Tuerca (1985)
‘A sexually conflicted young man is hired to take care of two orphaned siblings in a remote seaside mansion, and soon realizes that the ghosts of two former servants are trying to possess the children.’ — IMDb

Trailer

Excerpt

 

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La estanquera de Vallecas (1987)
‘A couple of ruffians enters a tobacconist in the neighborhood of Vallecas to steal. Having failed in its intention they finish entrench themselves in the place, being surrounded by police.’ — IMDb

Trailer

Excerpt

 

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Bulgarian Lovers (2003)
‘Graying Spaniard Daniel has a healthy budget for indulging in the finer things in life. Daniel’s favorite luxury is playing sponsor to younger men amid the lights and sights of Madrid’s gay club scene. After Daniel shares a night with handsome Bulgarian emigre Kyril, he finds himself consumed with an insatiable lust for the charismatic foreigner. But, as their relationship takes shape, Daniel’s latest conquest reveals his own manipulative tendencies.’ — letterboxd

Trailer

Excerpt

 

*

p.s. Hey. ** _Black_Acrylic, Hi, Ben. Okay, ‘Xstabeth’ it is. It’s crazy that I’ve hardly read him. Thank you, sir. ** Josh Feola, Josh! It’s so nice to see you and know that you saw the revival and that you’re still out there looking in here. I’m always inspired and excited when I come across your essays and articles. And very happy that you write often for The Wire, since that’s a Bible for me. Things are good on my end, and I hope it’s the same on yours. Are you still in China? Forgive me for not knowing. Take good care, man. ** Dominik, Hi!!! I’m like that about blockbuster movies. They cleanse the palate between watching films that matter and penetrate. Yes, Zac and I went to Australia and Tasmania a few years ago for the first time. I didn’t see a single kangaroo, sadly. I did see a lot of Tasmanian Devils (who didn’t seem very devilish). It’s nice there. I wish it wasn’t so insanely far away and hadn’t left me so jet lagged I could barely think for a lot of the time I was there. Have you been there? If not, is it a goal? Yay, I’m glad the love attachment was on an email that didn’t even need one. So … are you editing an insanity-making robot/human video? It does seem like a job best delegated to love since it could be argued love is insanity incarnate. Love taking a shower, walking to the store, putting on a mask, shopping, buying pasta sauce and toothpaste, taking off the mask, walking home, putting the purchased items in their appropriate resting places, washing his hands, and then feeling confused and thinking, ‘Now what?’, G. ** Jamie, Hi, Jamie! I’m doing pretty much A-okay. The trip did the trick I had assigned to it, so … yes! A goodie. Thanks (to Josh) about the post. Yes, I was chuffed to find it in the ruins and give it CPR and send it back into the world again as good as new. It’s too bad they’re defunct. I … think … I would have liked to see them. Surely there must a scat-themed band out there. Surely GG Allin isn’t the only owner of that good/bad idea. How’s stuff with you and your fellow dudes and location? Chocolate shit-shaped love, Dennis. ** Steve Erickson, Glad you’re feeling fit again. I feel more kindly towards that Sparks doc than you do. It’s not great, obviously, and I found the childhood section at the beginning frenetic and irritating, but, when it settled down, I thought it did a good job of doing what it intended: trying to enlarge Sparks’ audience. I don’t know that Sparks needs a brainy, adventurous contextualisation. And, luckily, the Carax film is being released simultaneously, and it kind of fills that bill. I thought the film was admirably comprehensive and productive. I know several people who didn’t know or barely knew Sparks prior to seeing the doc who are now huge fans. In my opinion, ‘Introducing Sparks’ is one of their very weakest albums. ‘Big Beat’ is terrific and fascinating in that it’s their one dark and mean and kind of sour album. Nice about the Armand Hammer gig. You’re going, I assume? ** Sypha, Hi. It’s true that I had imagined you’d read your fair share of King books. Interesting. ** Dalton, Hi, Dalton. Wow, interesting. I’m a pretty big noise fan, as I guess is obvious. You saw some great stuff. Paris is quite good for noise/extreme music gigs, or was before you-know-what shut everything. But they’re coming back now unless Delta fucks up that windfall. The most extreme gig I ever saw was this Catalan group La Fura dels Baus in Amsterdam in the mid-80s. They basically gathered a crowd in a warehouse then assaulted them in every way they could. A couple of members literally chased the audience around the space wielding real, working chainsaws, and it really did feel like they were actually tying to slaughter us for real. A few people in the crowd fell and broke their arms and wrists trying to escape. Nuts. I do prize naivety, even when it gets mistaken for stupidity. Hey, I never studied fiction writing, not even a single workshop, and I determined that I was going to write experimental, complicated novels without any conventional help, and, you know, it worked, for better or worse. I’m glad to hear you’re managing to write and consume even if the payoff isn’t contemporaneous. It’ll build you something useful, for sure, I bet. And, anyway, life will get good again. It always does, weirdly. High five on the stick-to-it-iveness. ** Okay. Today the blog wishes to access your curiosity and interest via the works of the unique Spanish filmmaker Eloy de la Iglesia, who, I dare say, is well worth your time today. See you tomorrow.

 

* (restored)
—-

 

I booked some shows at South by Southwest 2011 for a Chinese noise band, Carsick Cars. Since music is my work and I’m a Texas native, it was a chance to both take in the manic week of industry-saturated overstimulation that is SXSW and to catch up with local friends operating on the fringes of the festival.

Each of these two worlds offered one band whose presence in Austin was, to my mind, disproportionately hyped. The “industry” touted the arrival of Odd Future, an avant rap collective from LA who, after years of building an alternative online fanbase, jumped on the cover of Billboard magazine and headlined some of SXSW’s most prominent events. Coverage of this group is by now ubiquitous, but the most interesting to me (and most pertinent in this context) is an article on the Poetry Foundation website in which Bethlehem Shoals compares the group’s lyrics to a passage of transcendental violence from Guide (see: Odd Futurism).

Though the vast majority of the people at SXSW will never have heard of them, the band I was most interested to see was Yellow Tears. They were invited to play an underground power electronics/ harsh noise/ hardcore showcase by a friend of mine, Austin-based artist and filmmaker Rusty Kelley. Despite the fact that most of the people who told me about Yellow Tears are veteran obscurists desensitized to all forms of extreme music, this band uniquely inspires obsessively hyperbolic reviews: “the best band in the world,” “almost life changing,” “One of the most important groups of any genre in the current decade” are some direct quotes. Needless to say, I planned my schedule on the last night of SXSW around this show.

 

 

One fact must be stated at the beginning, as it grounds most conversations about Yellow Tears: the band is all about piss. Immediately on arriving at the venue, which took place at a bombed out east Austin warehouse space called the Broken Neck, I was informed/ warned by different people that Yellow Tears had collected several buckets of urine that would be used in their performance. Their set began with nondescript atmospheric sounds — vague moans and scattered gargles — while the band screened urine-themed porn on the wall behind the stage, pissed in backlit yellow vats, and ladled the resulting brew into small glass bowls. Back on the the stage the bowls were positioned above a camera and mic’d so that the audience was fully immersed in the opening ritual, the band members one by one dunking their heads into the bowls, gargling, retching.

 

 

After this blunt opening salvo Yellow Tears moved into real assault mode. The visceral gargle was warped into a monstrous roar via seemingly random knob twisting, but this music was not improvised. They knew every detail intimately, moved with it. Their faces contorted in reaction and anticipation. They raged to the sounds they had procured and manipulated. About halfway through their set is when they moved from cliche power electronics schtick to something deeper and harder to classify. Ethereal operatics created an almost Catholic/ Satanic atmosphere while the band again descended on the urine vats, their perverse self-baptism enthusiastically cheered on by the crowd. Highly coordinated, Yellow Tears regrouped for an incongruous steel drum break, then an unsettling laugh track sample.

This music is aggressively manipulative, as are the musicians, whose sneering laughter is met with applause from the audience. As people clap the band claps with them out of apparent disgust.

 

 

I usually can’t identify a “highlight” from a harsh noise set, but there was one moment of Yellow Tears’s performance that stuck in my brain like a thorn. After more mixed and chopped gargling, they sampled a middle-aged man speaking in a moment of candor: “Most of the time, I’m fine. But every now and then, they say that my mind sort of… drifts off. But… I always find my way back.” This sound-bite is innocuous on its own, but Yellow Tears knew exactly how to bend the words — both as sounds and symbols — to create a real terror of slipping consciousness. Listening to some of their recorded work after the fact, it seems that this careful re-contextualization otherwise inoffensive samples into a broader landscape of vague, distant despair is characteristic of their approach. It can be heard on “Buffalo Slaughter,” the opening track on their Paint Gurgle cdr, where a polite, if panicked voicemail message later reverberates with a deep pain of separation when folded into their music.

 

 

Ultimately, Yellow Tears is a hard band to pin down. As I mentioned before, I’ve been surprised by the number of hardcore extremists who champion Yellow Tears as a paragon of the form. After seeing them live, I was equally surprised by people who brushed them off as “not music” and “not a show I could bring my parents to.” Coming from people I’ve known almost exclusively in the context of hardcore, harsh noise, and other inherently anti-aesthetic/ antisocial musical territories, these comments are exceedingly odd. It seems that Yellow Tears strikes a deep aesthetic, moral, even phenomenological nerve that divides people already on the extreme musical fringes. Personally, I was strangely nonplussed after seeing their performance. I realized what I’d seen was important and moving in some way, but I wasn’t sure how or why. I talked to a similarly affected friend after the show. Though she didn’t really know what to think, she pointed out that older generations of her family drank urine for medicinal benefits so she wasn’t turned off by that particular aspect of the performance.

While they are certainly theatrical, I don’t think shock and disgust are the point of Yellow Tears. Their antics are not in line with GG Allin’s ritualized self abuse, early punk’s obsession with smearing and hurling condiments, or black metal’s animal sacrifice. They trade not in blood, vomit or mayonnaise but in urine, the most naturally occurring substance in the human experience. Whether to purify or debase, they meditate on piss, immerse themselves in it, use it as an instrument, incorporate it into their recordings and performances with a comprehension that is nothing short of religious. I mean religion here in the sense of ritual action and personal sublimation, a set of behaviors that blurs the line between sacred and profane and elicits a specific set of reactions from onlookers: instinctual rejection; rubbernecking fascination; Pavlovian cheering; obsessive, cultish fervor.

 

I had originally intended for this post to recount my gut reaction to their performance. I got preoccupied and I’m afraid that some of my most visceral, immediate reactions have been buffed by the time that has passed and I was left with this overly analytical rationalization. In any case, there’s really no substitute for seeing Yellow Tears live. You can find a list of upcoming performances on their site. My personal recommendation would be to catch their show on June 17th at Public Assembly in Brooklyn, where they’ll play along with Hospital label-runner Prurient and the teenage anarcho-posthardcore Danish group Iceage, who will be making their US debut.
—-

Tracks

Portrait of the Penis as a Young Garden Hose

Theme From “Golden Showers May Bring Flowers”

The Golden Family

3 Heads Underwater Experience

The Pissmop

Liquid Shimmer

 

 

*

p.s. Hey. ** Dominik, Hi!!! Thanks, yes, me too, about the meeting. We’ll definitely know more, it’s just a matter of degree. I read, I think, two Stephen King books ages ago, ‘Cujo’ and … I can’t remember the  other one. Based on them, I think he has great ideas, but his clunky prose was too hard on me. But I know serious writers I respect who love his books, so there you go. I’ve never heard of ‘The Institute’, but, if I dip back in, I’ll try to make that my way in. I really should give him the old college try again. Yes, Paris’s and Budapest’s sloppy kiss would definitely be a waterpark, so commands G. Fantasy booking a trip to the wilds of Australia as we speak. Love disguised as an attachment to the first email you open today, G. ** Chris Kelso, Hey. Really glad you liked the post and her. She’s great and severely under known considering. I’ve done posts here about two of my favorites of her novels: ‘Textermination’ and ‘Life, End Of’. That is curious that she’s sometimes considered a sci-fi, but why not. Huh. You sound like you’re maxing out the solo career period of your life quite understandably. I have a number of artist friends who’ve had kids in very recent times, and, based on my observance, it is an intense alteration for them, but all of them are still making excellent art as if nothing had happened. Wow, thank you a lot for sending that book. That’s amazing, thanks! ‘Weird Little Boy’ … hm … It’s pretty weird and quirky. Some great musicians involved: Zorn, Mike Patton, Chris Cochrane, … The packaging (by artist Nayland Blake) is cool. Most of the people involved seemed to end up hating the record, I’m not sure why. So, … I guess so? It’s fun and extreme, but I would be surprised if you ever listened to it more than once. Paris will be patient. xo. ** _Black_Acrylic, Cool, my pleasure, my friend. My PT-indoctrinated friend is already spreading the link. A new David Keenan? Is he really prolific? I feel like there was another novel by him just recently. Which I haven’t read. I gotta get on that/him, and, darn it, I will. ** Gus CaliGirls, Hi, Gus. Yeah, I’m all right. Back to working like a beaver and all that. The process … it depended. I tried all kinds of angles and different orders of doing things. Most often I found/liked the images, and liked them because they were haunting in some way that the images themselves and the usually somewhat well known sources they came from hadn’t supplied. So I felt like there was a gap in them or something that made them malleable/ vulnerable? Then I think I usually uploaded them and kept looking at them until I figured out a counter-narrative that would work with and, at the same time, oppose the meaning that the images inherently had, i.e. in ‘Simplicity Itself’s’ case the content of the ‘Flipper’ TV show from which they’d derived. A lot of trying and feeling my way along, I guess. I fear that isn’t very clear or helpful. I love your ideas/ plans/ description of the writing you’re doing. It excites me to imagine it. For what it’s worth, a number of the fiction writers I find most exciting developed their writing while in fine arts programs. In some cases, first they made image/text combo visual art pieces and then visual art pieces that were all text, and eventually they abandoned the visual art framing and just wrote. Anyway, I greatly encourage you in what you’re doing. It seems explosive and yet formally tight. I hope to get to see some of what you make at some point. Australia does seem to be a particular mess on the Covid front, at least from way over here, but I’m happy to hear that you have a good hide out. Thanks for filling me in, man. It’s revving me up. xo. ** Dalton, Hi, Dalton. Thanks for the welcome! I’m glad the post had a percolating effect on your thinking. ‘Kinda seems like choosing what to read is a moral endeavor which is disturbing to me’: that’s very interesting. I’m going to think about that. I don’t know if that’s naive, and, anyway, naivety is an underrated value and approach. If that makes any sense. Thanks a bunch. It’s good to see you. What are you up to? ** Right. Today’s restored post by the excellent music writer/critic Josh Feola comes from quite a while back. It covers the wild (and since defunct) Yellow Tears who made very interesting music/noise with the heavy use of urine. That’s something special, right? Check them out. And I’ll see you tomorrow.