WARNING:
The following NSFW collection contains explicit material intended for an adult audience.
Viewer Discretion Is Advised.
Viewer Discretion Is Advised.
SEX IS A METAPHOR
Curated by Cristine Brache
The false position of the female sex, so conspicuously exposed by the existence of the “lady,” is a fundamental defect in our social condition, and this defect, proceeding from the very heart of it, must extend its harmful influence in every direction. That woman is by nature intended to obey is shown by the fact that every woman who is placed in the unnatural position of absolute independence at once attaches herself to some kind of man, by whom she is controlled and governed; this is because she requires a master. If she, is young, the man is a lover; if she is old, a priest. -- Schopenhauer
James Birkbeck
The referential expanse of my self-imagining unpacks at a deliberate
pace, avoiding resort to parody of the bodies i grow increasingly proximate to,
“real women”. To embrace the exposed epidermis and un-contoured lines of my
body as it is nuanced and sculpted by the determined hands of estrogen. The
same (and bizarrely so) intentional becoming that i perform with each
confrontation with my visage, hyperbolizing the she-elements of my flesh with
brushes, bustiers and carefully proportioned jewelry. To dress, to converse,
and to foreground as acts of cultural production. The ceaseless struggle to be
recognized as the specific nexus of what i represent/embody. Working to
comprehend as metaphor the mid-range volume levels of my face. The width of my
neck and the expanse of my rib cage in tandem with the softened viscosity of
the fat and fluids in my breasts. -- Julianna Huxtable
This video was originally released on YouTube under the account "JacuzziG@ls" with the accompanying text:
"Youtube!!!!
we are 6 girls (and one tiny dog) who looooove the J@cuzz1 Boy5!!!!!
(don't wory 18+, don't be gross)
We made a fan vid a few nites ago we all got together at Karen's new apt.
Anyways, this is our favorite song from the new album.
J@cuzz1 B0ys,
We know your on tour but want to send you this!!!
we made this account cuz of all the weirdos on youtube, but if you are in the band send us a message! You guys are so cute!!
our dream is to meet the boys, so if anyone that sees this knows them... make sure they see it and know that we are glazin' (lol) for them always!
hope u all like it!!
everyone else don't be pervy, it's just fun! vagina's are so sci-fi, right?
xoxoxooxoxo
smoochies
PS. GO CANES!!!!
------------------------------
Hey everyone!! UPDATE!! The video was passed along and the Boys finally saw it and THEY LIKED IT!
LOOK WHAT THEY WROTE US:
"Jacuzz1G@lz!
HOLY... SHIT...
What the fuck?! This is so insane & beautiful... We're speechless! This is hands down the coolest thing a fan has ever done... Wow. We wanna ask a million questions, but we won't... but, Yes! we're absolutely down to make this public... We'll now call this the "official" video for Glazin'! It's a masterpiece!
It couldn't have come at a better time...
Happy Halloween!
Forever in debt,
Xoxo
JBs"
SOOOOO COOOOOLLLL!!!!"
It was banned from youtube, and later posted on vimeo under a "Jacuzz1G@ls" account as well, where it was removed by the record label (H@rd1y Art, a subsidiary of SubPop, which is itself owned by Warner) because they were afraid of litigation stemming from our satirical appropriation of pop culture characters. Despite the fact that we were in fact hired and commissioned by them, they deny all involvement.
We have since hosted it here: jacuzzigals.com/ the same server used by Wikileaks which does not bow to pressure from anyone to censor the content hosted on their site.
from 'La Passion du Bois' by Frédéric Fleury
Selections from Tom Anderson Productions
It is "the slave" in the vain man's blood, the remains of the slave's craftiness - and how much of the "slave" is still left in the woman, -- Friedrich Nietzsche
'CUTTER' by Richard Kern
Collages by J.G. Ballard
'STITCHES' for Hood by Air by Mitch Moore
Penny Goring
from 'Ice Fuckers' by Frédéric Fleury
(and sometimes we touch like a dream coming back, that dark
and sleeping void and you
remember, it is not empty and
safe, we are not safe and
our bodies know that,
every cell has evolved, they
grow towards pleasure always,
they adapt.
and if you feed them only pain, well,
they adapt)
and we are girls,
sometimes our voices are fingers, they
negate the need for hands,
when our words wrap like bone,
when our words, squeezed forever
beneath too much, too hot, too hurt,
burst like diamonds from coal
and cut scratches through the glass
you live in, you were warned.
we are girls.
and if we could find
the hand that feeds us
we’d bite, but we haven’t
Excerpt from 'We Are Girls' by Michelle Tea
It is "the slave" in the vain man's blood, the remains of the slave's craftiness - and how much of the "slave" is still left in the woman, -- Friedrich Nietzsche
'CUTTER' by Richard Kern
Collages by J.G. Ballard
now you are nekama (per) –version; you connect your brain to an electric shocker and push a vulgar point, excuse your filthy moves with the theory of determination; regularly overdosing with poison; worship the demon and malignant god in one person (yourself); you were created by fanatic nihilists, became a fake japanese analyst of rat cage structures and you are now asking the naive question: all the possible constructed configurations of the electric cage are origami > the rat is a cross of broken lines > what does a flat surface look like? …you are searching for reality…
the system of partisan twin sisters on monster island is the psychic structure of the nekama player; her deep layer constitutes the rat complex, hidden inside the laboratory lie the ruins of the electric jungle; all of it undergrown by the biorhythm of the neo fung infection, so your brain became a fungus archipelago of the imagination >
the masquerade of the fake japanese is a strategy of perception diversity; tranSS cosplay; hallucinogenic therapy, made with an electric projection screen; a totalitarian system of artificial consciousness, which is ruled by stratagem > LOOK! : you are motion controlled with an enigmatic flow of infection, paradoxical logic; the fake japanese hides herself behind her own back; she jumps over her own shadow; reproduces into paranoid agents; the nekama agency is as mysterious, as an imaginary organization of posers; containing only pretty degenerate minds, almost falling into nihilism; nekamizm? be ware! : agents of nekama constantly penetrate the sophisticated sewers of monster island; these extraordinary rat hunters, with a permanently undefined shape, stay in conspiracy (connected to sewage of the excremental ego, cultivating cybernetic alchemy) > inside trash bins of databases and shit holes of graveyards, mutants of the virtual rat discipline are born, and nobody can stop creating this weirdness; the pattern of expansion is probably coded inside the nekama genotype copyright; animated kamikazes are waiting for a sign /
connect to your more real twin self > the simulation of a hi-tech concentration camp on monster island is already processing!; now every rat-like mutant is being sent to the death loop monitored laboratory, where everyone has every pleasure of biohazard; nekama is made especially for virtual transvestites who pretend to be 13 year old lesbian partisans, covered with the first blood of the brain’s vagina (…)
this is the era of netterror; the network game nekama is a place for the lost; deserters from a second life; here racist hermaphrodites, in kinky costumes of teenage partisans, mix with each other, planning the next techno terror attack from the compact jungle bushes of monster island; without face and, what’s even worse, without make-up, they are penetrating fractal fields of death-desire;
hypnotic sewers inside out, hanging between sticky slums and a futuristic fantasy about monster island; the smart partisan organization of elfish twin sisters reveals the vibrating nerve of camouflage; it breeds per. versions of its own variations; diversifies into capricious self copies, provoking your suspicious eye; is it, that you’ve met the same creature, again, this weirdo? It looks illusively similar > but!... the tainted beauty shows off the damage, monstrous deformation, beastly dis/oriental make-up, t u r n on. her meat eating clitoris shivers with irregular pulse, her lustful facial expressions are the secret message for hidden agents; every twin sister incubates another one, through external glands tied with messy head hair; blowing bubbles from their brains creating a vicious communication system on monster island; your only chance to get into the confusion of the rat complex /
circulation of c.analitic rat offspring aggregates the energetic potential of monster island; ugly creatures mutate rapidly; its genetic complication wakes your traumatic memories; its tropical laboratory relict, staying in a sad dream state, resonating with internal shallow reflection?; its visible aura swirled organoid shaking with vain tentacles of phantom limbs, full of pleasure ending at the foot; you are sucking its leaking waste of unisolated test-tubes, leaving signs of skin; sniffing the hungry monster of sticky twin sister sex; she’s curved, leaking with smelly juice; you get drunk, get infected, what else can you do? the ancient look of the false twin sister’s eye is a challenge; a characteristic stimulation of sensorial inset that allows you to think that she is still between her first menstruation and first ovulation / rats desire > -- Excerpt from 'Nekama' by Piotr Boćkowski
'STITCHES' for Hood by Air by Mitch Moore
from 'Ice Fuckers' by Frédéric Fleury
Amos Mac in collaboration with Zackary Drucker
(and sometimes we touch like a dream coming back, that dark
and sleeping void and you
remember, it is not empty and
safe, we are not safe and
our bodies know that,
every cell has evolved, they
grow towards pleasure always,
they adapt.
and if you feed them only pain, well,
they adapt)
and we are girls,
sometimes our voices are fingers, they
negate the need for hands,
when our words wrap like bone,
when our words, squeezed forever
beneath too much, too hot, too hurt,
burst like diamonds from coal
and cut scratches through the glass
you live in, you were warned.
we are girls.
and if we could find
the hand that feeds us
we’d bite, but we haven’t
been fed in so, so long
and we are hungry
and throwing a piece of meat
into the ghetto
you built us into
is not enough.
we have been hungry forever:
we were born hungry
through that open hungry mouth we
were born from our mothers’ hunger, we are
hunger birthing hunger birthing hunger
we grind our teeth in our sleep
we are girls.
and sometimes we can crawl
into each other like caves, we
can curl, we can sleep,
we are girls.
and we are hungry
and throwing a piece of meat
into the ghetto
you built us into
is not enough.
we have been hungry forever:
we were born hungry
through that open hungry mouth we
were born from our mothers’ hunger, we are
hunger birthing hunger birthing hunger
we grind our teeth in our sleep
we are girls.
and sometimes we can crawl
into each other like caves, we
can curl, we can sleep,
we are girls.
Excerpt from 'We Are Girls' by Michelle Tea
***
Cristine Brache is an artist and poet currently based in China. Her work has recently been exhibited at the Dumbo Arts Center [NYC], the Anthology Film Archives [NYC], and the International Anthropology & Documentary Film Festival [Estonia]. Her poetry has recently appeared in 3AM Magazine, Everyday Genius, and the E-Ratio Postmodern Poetry Journal.
