tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44785601229091398782024-03-25T10:07:35.682-04:00Rearranging The Deck Chairswriting with a machine gun. everybody duck.Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-61457821313446069492022-08-18T20:58:00.000-04:002022-08-19T01:22:39.329-04:00POP! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I drank a fucking half gallon of whole milk on a dare at this kid's house when I was about 16. I couldn't wait to finish so I could throw up all over his mom's kitchen floor. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">I dare you to dare me.</span>Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-54159737684547944182022-07-08T20:17:00.004-04:002022-07-17T13:35:26.268-04:00Black Man Killed by Police Lather, Rinse Repeat<p> </p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: red;">(Note: I was crying as I wrote this)</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">On June 27th a 25 year old black man was shot to death in Akron Ohio and his name was Jayland Walker.</span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-2af1e87a-7fff-08a2-32cc-597147e8ed13"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Do you know that Google just spell corrected his name as I am voice typing? It’s THAT big of a deal So why am I standing alone on the corner of a busy street holding up a sign that says JUSTICE FOR JAYLAND and people don't even know what the fuck I'm talking about?</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz6RaEb1PIwXwctWQCknvUXSyCDbNLhnl_2YvT--KWReBZzaIzc_mFw6-3JVUItIiQAqWS87ymkkf5pfdSQMmIyVdp83BFxjzrBWOeIcAO_TgdEUk_DCFRZ4hMQIMqZoL8JRcwAcdsGskGJ2JRIlD-uk8q4ZGb-dWcxcuAm3xuKZkHTB_IpAb9Hf2_/s886/attachment-1fa013308cf234bcb3c00987e594375041125d9e-s1100-c50.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="665" data-original-width="886" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz6RaEb1PIwXwctWQCknvUXSyCDbNLhnl_2YvT--KWReBZzaIzc_mFw6-3JVUItIiQAqWS87ymkkf5pfdSQMmIyVdp83BFxjzrBWOeIcAO_TgdEUk_DCFRZ4hMQIMqZoL8JRcwAcdsGskGJ2JRIlD-uk8q4ZGb-dWcxcuAm3xuKZkHTB_IpAb9Hf2_/s320/attachment-1fa013308cf234bcb3c00987e594375041125d9e-s1100-c50.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><div><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>(seen here with his former wrestling coach)</i></span></span></div><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We should be outraged because:</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A black man is pulled over in a routine traffic stop for what, we do not know.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He jumps out of his car and starts to run when he sees EIGHT COPS chasing him wearing a ski mask - why? We do not know..</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When the first bullet is discharged, Jayland goes down. And eight cops fired over 90 shots into that mother’s son laying on the ground. In 6 seconds they fired NINETY shots the force of which was calling his body to roll back and forth. One officer is seen on many of the body cams yelling CEASE FIRE three times and waving his hands after the first shot. But they did not cease. White smoke begins to cloud everything as 90 shots are fired nearly at the same time - it sounded like a bunch of little boys lighting full strings of fire crackers on 4th of July.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Then the body cam footage on all 8 cops plus the other 4 who showed up because you need 12 cops for a traffic violation STOPS.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It stops.. There is no footage after the execution.</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He arrived at the coroner with handcuffs on his dead body and SIXTY bullet holes in it from his face to his feet and I am certain that the blood pool will tell us that they cuffed a dead man.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A 25 year old young man died this way. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And I stood there alone with that sign…and no one knew who he was.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">773 days ago, we watched George Floyd call for his mother as he took his last breath under the knee of a psychotic cop who was sentenced this week to 21 years in prison.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am certain that Jayland Walker cried out for his mother with his last breath which is without a doubt, the loneliest sound in the moment in this universe. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The DOJ will get involved. Black protesters will be treated VERY differently than white insurrectionists, Reverend Al can go on tv and I am telling you...</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">It will mean nothing. </span></span></p></span>Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-75935186637633001922022-05-08T21:56:00.005-04:002022-07-17T14:41:18.511-04:00iT gEts WorSe and this post is fucking long<p>I did not know how to use the library - at age 41. I wandered in, too embarrassed to ask for help and found myself in the World War 2 aisle. I started with the Survivor memoirs.</p><p>I read them all. Good Reads was just starting and I turned in a fake memoir. I read 11 more for a few bucks and then I stood there looking at a book called Operation Barbarossa and Hitler's Fatal Mistake or some name of the sort. It seemed a little beyond my ability so I went to a local college, enrolled in a history class that was more about the Treaty of Versailles (and hey, it's possible many Jews would have survived if that thing wasn't so punishing) and I asked nonstop questions about Operation Barbarossa until the class just became about Hitler's greatest miscalculation: the confidence of the Russians when they fought on their own soil. They would not give in. </p><p><i>And Hitler would not send COATS, new tanks, FOOD...nothing. German "conscripts" deserted but died in the snow. Hitler lost his war in Russia. </i></p><p>Familiar, jah? It gets worse.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFRTccNoGPzb_ROj3QKhbLcu5V17ymj0Mxcj_RlRrEiDQbJVn5By4kel7PTU6_0Qs6Y4aUfIS7M6TYxs0-S7dpwfvz57UGOo0tLO3YMJXSCs3P-5uPAN7dgo7Imc-ot8qvfpxyJY9fYaxQMXkDj7wMwyb4sPOUthlOrYuXahJMXqoUzLNIKIhWawFe/s640/radiator%20shoot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFRTccNoGPzb_ROj3QKhbLcu5V17ymj0Mxcj_RlRrEiDQbJVn5By4kel7PTU6_0Qs6Y4aUfIS7M6TYxs0-S7dpwfvz57UGOo0tLO3YMJXSCs3P-5uPAN7dgo7Imc-ot8qvfpxyJY9fYaxQMXkDj7wMwyb4sPOUthlOrYuXahJMXqoUzLNIKIhWawFe/w400-h300/radiator%20shoot.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The Russians liberated Auschwitz in 1944-1945 without really flinching about the terrible condition of these people. The women were hugged and given chocolates by the Red Army then these weak broken women began walking through poor destroyed Poland in the day, sleeping in barns at night holding their collective breath yet again...it was a different kind of selection though: rape by the Russian soldiers. Sometimes murder. <p></p><p>Now as the Russians approached Berlin, where their German enemies' daughters, wives,sisters lived...they went on a rampage that rivals Bucha and Mariupol...they raped and killed close to 200,000 women. They were bored and no one was telling them what to do and the women were becoming less plentiful so they would gang rape 11 year old girls. It is impossible to know how many lives of women the Russians took or at least gave them the need to do it themselves.</p><p>Think on that for a minute. </p><p><br /></p><p>Now it is May 9th: Putin's big bullshit parade as liberators. Wtf? </p><p>But the parade of Putin's will spring from the filthy endless ripple in the waters of Hitler's victory day. There will be no one, nothing. So w<br />hat will happen?</p><p>WHAT will happen?</p><p>Every night I pray for Navalny and courage for the people of Russia. Every morning my heart races as I look to see if Zelensky is still alive. </p><p>And every once in a while I talk about Operation Barbarossa but I didn't even really do it this time because Ukraine is being terrorized and I am Ukrainian. <br /><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju4j2eEg-1X15XftptfgR3w_CPG7RVzKIHVa0Y9011XNjfcfKklpQSynbjXu1sR_N3VE2CmK5WURsvxcBbvypScHp7mEKtBEwpGei9h9wD10UPH1hzh74pg2y0FF08h4eYQHeJO_FgRh5SHMWktNWr1oV1AH1066Tc7g0z1G0zhZ8-X8Vyt-rg3xuN/s1803/Fedorchuk1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1803" data-original-width="1226" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju4j2eEg-1X15XftptfgR3w_CPG7RVzKIHVa0Y9011XNjfcfKklpQSynbjXu1sR_N3VE2CmK5WURsvxcBbvypScHp7mEKtBEwpGei9h9wD10UPH1hzh74pg2y0FF08h4eYQHeJO_FgRh5SHMWktNWr1oV1AH1066Tc7g0z1G0zhZ8-X8Vyt-rg3xuN/s320/Fedorchuk1.JPG" width="218" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>(Timofey and Ksenia Fedorchuk, my great grandparents)</i></span></div><p></p><p>I am struck dumb as I type all of this because evil is on earth. Again. And we pray to the Warrior Angel St. Michael changing it up a bit: </p><p>"defend the Ukrainians in battle. And thrust Satan into hell so that he may not seek the ruin of souls" Something like that. </p><p>But I am a sinner because I also pray that Hitler's cyanide suicide visits itself upon Putin - for they are both dead, evil revenants in a rampage for reasons they do know understand. Because they do not understand they are shadows and they are unforgiven. For all time.</p>Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-4785564269629126532022-04-11T14:06:00.000-04:002022-11-12T21:47:46.423-05:00Oh my God I forgot that I wrote a book<p><span style="font-size: large;"> My friend Father Peter - of a weird little order that follows the life of St. Francis to an almost ridiculous extent - wrote something in a "church bulletin" that was so profound and revealing that it made me take out the box with my book "Growing Up Mental". Which I failed to submit in time to the publisher. I was probably depressed or something.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvBrSTLk_WvtY5Lur11KrfqSzo6HnAvUV5kSkOROKqEIfWbDynXWehnhaD300h8J23qFIwOisyRtxl-Pw49xA0B-kziwad81aydTG6syYN08937X1gT4u_I7ztDia70mg5qHDKUoDxyYse_rT-P-FxKSFAc6Hg_t3qM3-y_IDHnXOqWWgyB5cPwkre/s700/gum%2023.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="565" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvBrSTLk_WvtY5Lur11KrfqSzo6HnAvUV5kSkOROKqEIfWbDynXWehnhaD300h8J23qFIwOisyRtxl-Pw49xA0B-kziwad81aydTG6syYN08937X1gT4u_I7ztDia70mg5qHDKUoDxyYse_rT-P-FxKSFAc6Hg_t3qM3-y_IDHnXOqWWgyB5cPwkre/w323-h400/gum%2023.jpg" width="323" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="font-size: large;">I took excerpts of my childhood and stripped them raw. They are tragic but you can't tell. And they all end with a joke. Because I was raised that way. Fucking Hungary, Syria, Ukraine...why couldn't my parents be Canadians? You know "throw me down the stairs my shoes". That shit. Here is the opening:</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: medium;"><b>"Bobby Kennedy Was Shot in the ar!!"</b></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="color: #45818e;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This might be my first coherent memory. Watching cartoons on Saturday morning eating creamed corn out of the can when the news broke. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I knew this was big because it was a Kennedy</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> and he was all my parents talked about so if I was the one to tell them I would be the star!!! Here we go! </span></span><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: Arial; white-space: pre-wrap;">I went crashing through the beads of my parents bedroom, made the announcement - probably aglow with the anticipation of attention: maybe they will boost me up on their shoulders! maybe they will take my picture! But they just pushed past me and cried in front of the television. Right through lunch and everything. They didn't even know I was there.</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: medium;"><b>So I went to my room and jumped on my bed for the next 11 years. </b></span></span></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I found inspiration just like when I heard the song<a href="https://youtu.be/_rq6dC2T6J8" target="_blank"> "Menthol" by Jean Dawson?</a> I started writing music like my life was on the line.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It probably is.</span></p><p></p><p><br /></p>Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-38699638496603266582022-03-21T13:48:00.003-04:002022-06-16T14:05:12.025-04:00Performance Artists are Stupid<span style="font-size: large;">
BEFORE hotels got on the gouging bandwagon, I went on a hotel tour and recorded this stuff. Please say you like it because I am bipolar and who knows what could happen...</span><div><br /></div><div>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/hMZSI88-sjw" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-6475520082616892562022-03-12T01:49:00.002-05:002022-03-12T01:49:38.383-05:00We're Watching a Genocide on TV and Giving Props to the Dying<p><span style="font-size: large;">Normalization. It happens fast. The Catholic Church, which I love, is suggesting we watch less tv and pray more. I can walk and chew gum but hey, for those who listened, its hurting Tucker Carlson's ratings. There is an upside.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We are watching deliberate bombing of Ukrainian children and talking about how Zelensky is channeling Churchill. He's desperate for help, we are charging war crimes and fucking with oligarchs and sanctions and all along praising those still alive in Ukraine. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The fear of nuclear war is no longer an excuse: Russia has control of Chernobyl, shut out the power and now...Zaporizhzhia is under Russian control - the largest nuclear power plant in Europe<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif;">. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> But boy that Zelensky is Churclillian. </span></span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 17px;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 17px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj_Yu1X3EaRK7s1HwQlchLRezl9sar3iwspeaWjI2l1k0pNvo-5Fr49prpbLqgiWkyyvzRMSvEmaOkKDtpGRVB6cTcIRevlywWSrBX9P32ierUXZvz7Ng7zDM_61zB5Nc4lzWah6EWH5faz8z0SY_dOGaCKVwt6e1raqLFDHtj3LmIY4WgGmrYQ-mZ2=s800" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="800" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj_Yu1X3EaRK7s1HwQlchLRezl9sar3iwspeaWjI2l1k0pNvo-5Fr49prpbLqgiWkyyvzRMSvEmaOkKDtpGRVB6cTcIRevlywWSrBX9P32ierUXZvz7Ng7zDM_61zB5Nc4lzWah6EWH5faz8z0SY_dOGaCKVwt6e1raqLFDHtj3LmIY4WgGmrYQ-mZ2=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 17px;"><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Just to frame this a bit: The White House under FDR had an undercurrent of antisemitism. When William Dodd, the German Ambassador in 1933, told Roosevelt he was seeing the beginnings of something terrible, FDR told him to just get the money they owe us. He was recalled soon after that. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When Kristallnacht became known around the world - or at least some it - people were outraged. But it passed because the free world did nothing. By doing nothing, the US normalized this and nowhere is this more evident than in the horrible, unforgiveable BUT FORGOTTON <a href="https://fatova.blogspot.com/2019/10/too-late-roosevelt.html">turning away of the St. Louis</a> - the last ship out of Germany which Cuba -surprise - decided not to accept. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">There it sat, visible on the Florida horizon. Until there was no choice....they went back. Nearly all died in a camp. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">This idea that by cancelling Gergiev's concerts or closing McDonalds we will stop Putin from wiping out Ukraine is folly and I think it is a sin. A great sin. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The only single fucking thing that is promising - and keep your eyes on this - is Alexei Navalny who is saying KEEP PROTESTING in the Russian Streets for it is the people that will destroy Putin. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Chances are Navalny will be killed before it will happen but it will. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When Zelensky is killed he will be remembered as "Churchillian", leading the plucky Ukrainians. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We have learned <i>nothing.</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The thing is WE THE PEOPLE have the intelligence that we didn't have in WWII.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But here we are finding a nuclear reason not to stop these war crimes but to wait and seek to hold Putin accountable in a tribunal? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"It seems that the fire at this nuclear plant is contained", said some American on my tv just now.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I shut it off. I'm going to pray.</span></p><p><br /></p>Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-38015571916218970262022-01-07T16:02:00.006-05:002022-01-07T16:02:59.590-05:00Jesus loves me but not my poems<span style="font-size: large;">I found an old blog. It was god, man my writing chops were olympic level. If there were Sarcastic Olympics, I would be Mark Spitz.<br />
Suddenly it lost that spark and each post got more introspective and I realized AH! This was when I was saved!</span><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjwjPtgpv3uMhe7rhT5eY-Vg5uPm0Pi3iLsp9YKK9HydW8LUFYEk4y_toGhIiAsZKJosW9Sq5KsOzMp6DrGSegWU5wdqPpJRf3oKvk6jWL23SdD3Vuy0HYq7rb2sixiw-BA9mPDK-e8j-pHkhLn5mQdnnSu19FSEUmYuK1Tj2g6ucjSnTYGOPpvOTAmhw=s640" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="425" data-original-width="640" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjwjPtgpv3uMhe7rhT5eY-Vg5uPm0Pi3iLsp9YKK9HydW8LUFYEk4y_toGhIiAsZKJosW9Sq5KsOzMp6DrGSegWU5wdqPpJRf3oKvk6jWL23SdD3Vuy0HYq7rb2sixiw-BA9mPDK-e8j-pHkhLn5mQdnnSu19FSEUmYuK1Tj2g6ucjSnTYGOPpvOTAmhw=w400-h266" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">So my blog antics started to fail as I finally got out of that dryer. <br /><br />
</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Jesus Christ is absolutely needed in our lives. But he makes your poems and prose suck.</span><br />
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<br /><br /></div>Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-59142391240700678632022-01-01T20:14:00.001-05:002022-03-12T01:14:02.653-05:00The Painted Indictment: Raft of the Medusa<blockquote>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-large;">This may be one of the most horrifying stories I've ever heard and I include the Holocaust in this because that was a planned, methodical murder carried out by madmen. This....this is almost inconceivable. It is an explosion of human nature at its worst, of ego, self-righteousness, and indifference. And the resulting grasping, clutching, murderous self-preservation; the madness, despair and agony left in its wake. That an artist would document the end result in a painting made to scale, <i>the size of the actual raft</i> that carried 147 people, in all its grotesque and horrifying detail, would be as stunning as the event itself.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-large;">Here's how it happened: </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #660000;">In June of 1816, the French, no surprise the French are involved in yet another disgusting event in history,</span><span style="color: #660000;"> </span><span style="color: #660000;">sailed 4 ships to Africa to colonize Senegal what with Africa being in desperate need of civilization and all. I mean </span><span style="color: #660000;">whatever it was they were doing had to be wrong, right? Good God. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #660000;">It was a race with every country who had the money to build a ship to take over a continent that didn't need taking over and 175 years later, when Rwanda was destroying itself as a direct result of these bullshit invasions, no one would intervene . They went to TAKE OVER because they were black then they WOULDN'T HELP because they were black. The only thing worse is being a woman, said John and Yoko. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="color: #660000;">But that's another story. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="color: #660000;">In 1816, The Medusa, one of the 4 ships the French were lucky enough to even <em>have</em> after that whole Napoleon fiasco, was captained or whatever it is that ships are, by a rich, arrogant sonofabitch, Viscount Hugues Duroy de Chaumereys, a long-retired sea asshole with political connections. Caring only about garnering accolades for beating the other ships to Africa and with no concern for the 400 passengers on board, he took off at full speed, went off course by 100 miles and hit a sand bar. Or something. They ran aground anyway. Oh. Look. Here's the sea asshole now:</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #660000;"><span style="color: #660000;">The other 3 ships were nowhere in sight having stayed the course. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">The Medusa was shipwrecked carrying 400 souls and a lifeboat that would only hold 250. Some of the crew chose to remain on the wrecked vessel and take their chances on a rescue. But not many. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #660000;"><span style="color: #999999;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #009900;"><span style="color: #660000;">Now, the rich, naturally, were placed in the lifeboat with most of the rations and a makeshift "raft" was built, tethered to the lifeboat and loaded with 147 "lesser" passengers, the unimportant, people like me, who were told by de Chaumereys that they had "plenty of rations".</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">They had enough for 2 days and went through it in one. </span></span><br />
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When the unrest began and the discarded human cargo of the raft realized what had been done to them, de Chaumreys <em>cut the line.</em><em> </em>The comfortable, well-rationed lifeboat set them adrift: 146 men and one woman with no rations, on the open sea, at the equator. He simply cut the line and sent them to their deaths. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;">Each night, madness set in. Complete darkness, the silence of the ocean becoming a deafening roar, hunger and dehydration taking over their senses. </span></span><span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-large;">Each </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #660000;">morning</span></span><span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-large;"> there would be fewer.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #660000;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #660000;">Many were murdered by the others who were going insane from lack of food and water; and then there was fear so deep that many jumped into the sea in despair. </span></span><span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-large;">Eventually, the starving passengers resorted to cannibalism.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-large;">The one woman was repeatedly assaulted and thrown off the raft only to climb back in to the same fate. Her torture is </span><span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-large;">unknowable and it is said the half-corpse hanging off the side in the painting is her, rotted, half eaten, abused even in death.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-large;">Thirteen days later, The Argus, one of the 4 original ships, came upon the "Raft of the Medusa". On it were 15 living men and several rotting corpses - 10 survived. Of 147, only 10 survived and only 3 would live. The lifeboat, which was not filled to capacity, not even close, did not lose one passenger. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;">Hugues Duroy de Chaumereys lost his stripes and was given three years which he never served. <em>He was never convicted of desertion</em> or any other crime. How he and the others who cut that raft loose <em><strong>lived</strong></em> with themselves is a testament to the worst elements of human character, elements nearly always born of a sense of entitlement which was a conscience-free existence in those days of very defined classism. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;">(self-portrait 1820)</span></div>
<span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #660000;">But a painter by the name of Theodore Ge'ricault would interfere with their ability to deny the blood on their hands when - only three years later - he exhibited a 16' x 23' painting called simply</span><span style="color: #660000;"> </span><strong><span style="color: #660000;">"Raft of The Medusa". </span></strong></span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQg2tO3A35ulWO9Hh_TbJlLrnBLbQPEDJzef81DthLb0u7feKO956MU4VncsQAWf4iR4u8yuUQOj3pEvAwFHtx_IkZ5enr7LGR-ya64-Iwd0zwYw1gRv9-kszfX4g6ilewDeDKAupEFq0/s1600/GericaultMonomaniacOfGame.jpg" style="clear: right; display: inline; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="680" data-original-width="568" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQg2tO3A35ulWO9Hh_TbJlLrnBLbQPEDJzef81DthLb0u7feKO956MU4VncsQAWf4iR4u8yuUQOj3pEvAwFHtx_IkZ5enr7LGR-ya64-Iwd0zwYw1gRv9-kszfX4g6ilewDeDKAupEFq0/s320/GericaultMonomaniacOfGame.jpg" width="265" /></a></span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="color: #009900; font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #009900;"></span><br /></span><span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-large;">Gericault was already breaking from convention with his series "Les Monomanes", portraits of the insane. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-large;">But this was entirely something else. This wildly graphic painting, a serious contribution to the dawn of the Romantic era, caused amazing controversy, shocked the world in its context, size and style... and pointed a finger squarely at de Chaumereys and the other Medusa lifeboat survivors. There would be no forgiveness now. History - perhaps not actively but most certainly - would hold them responsible by way of paint on a canvas. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Many things happen this way. Caravaggio's "confession" through his last work "Denial of St. Peter" and I bring this up as it is thought Gericault studied the "Raising of Lazarus" for the cadaver reference, seen here.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Ge'ricault spent months studying cadavers, the varying stages of decomposition, interviewing the 3 survivors of The Raft, 2 in particular whose retelling (I have heard) is too difficult to bear. The one woman on the raft suffered something to which no words could be assigned. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"><em>(from his studies on cadavers)</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #660000;">The artist intended to shock with the truth, depicting the</span><span style="color: lime;"> </span></span><span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> horror of this event without restraint. He went all in and did it <i>to scale</i></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">. </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: 130%;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">In total, the painting took two years to complete and the effort ruined his health, perhaps his faith who knows. He died within a year of the work's completion.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-large;">It was repulsive to some, revolutionary to others but it was discussed, there was a fresh wave of anger over the entire thing. Senegal was not so far that word did not reach those shadow-humans responsible for all of it. Not one ever returned. It was considered non-historical because of the short span of time between the event and the unveiling. Contemporary it may be called but it would be considered authentic history at its worst.</span></span></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="color: #660000;">"Le Monomanes" showed he was a risk taker. But with the "Raft of The Medusa" he became a groundbreaker both in the shift of truth in art and his clear strike at the upper class and the French government. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #660000;">To me, he accused de Chaumereys and the "entitled" on that lifeboat for all time and that seems more important than the rest. Were it not for Ge'reicault, I think time would have washed away the story of The Medusa, de Chaumereys and the indifferent upperclass of that lifeboat would have gotten a pass and those unfortunates sent to their deaths on that raft would mean as little today as they did the day they were placed on it. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #660000;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-large;">This story is almost Dickensian, don't you think? Seldom do the gods wag their wicked fingers at 'the world's de Chaumereys' so swiftly and with such artistry,</span><span style="color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">' as it were. It just doesn't happen like this: the size of this painting, the impact on artistic style, the </span><em style="font-size: xx-large;">ripple effect</em><span style="font-size: x-large;"> it created that reached all peoples, mercilessly reminding them of the atrocity and stirring up a new fury. And today, if you are reading this and learning for the first time, aren't you pissed off too?</span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-large;">Was this an artist who gave his life in the effort to tell the tale...is this divine justice? </span></span></span></span></div>
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Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-31358682507077940472021-12-07T22:07:00.004-05:002021-12-20T14:07:14.604-05:00Too Late Roosevelt...<span style="font-size: x-large;">I can't contain my rage anymore over Marjorie Taylor Gangreen and the other assholes using the words "Nazi Germany" about everything. If it turns out that </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">my time is short, I will find a way to engage at least one of these dicks on some facts - because this is not a slogans kinda thing. </span><div><span style="font-size: xx-large;"> </span></div><div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgwGntsnPvuOV8Yn6EzJSUPdihu9_qR0oBbLCW1wVj00y10AP2qRffvNnEIKFKCLV1fs4M_bVb1Ow_qPEyJMAzbsoSljvBnAyridT6ZDTUIPJCT1NFMgYKoQEuHwAeIDnH990C0lfEHgALpfCOUE-xzpPu1N6QLt8TNyUubP1ADV4I9AbENl0L1JHPx=s660" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="330" data-original-width="660" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgwGntsnPvuOV8Yn6EzJSUPdihu9_qR0oBbLCW1wVj00y10AP2qRffvNnEIKFKCLV1fs4M_bVb1Ow_qPEyJMAzbsoSljvBnAyridT6ZDTUIPJCT1NFMgYKoQEuHwAeIDnH990C0lfEHgALpfCOUE-xzpPu1N6QLt8TNyUubP1ADV4I9AbENl0L1JHPx=w640-h320" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div> <br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">Why can't a talking head interview these shameful people in our government about the facts? Perhaps the MS St. Louis "the voyage of the damned"? The last ship out of Germany with 900 Jews in plain view who were suddenly rejected by Cuba. We saw the ship. And did nothing.<br />
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That ship was forced back to Germany where 254 people were murdered. The US government was rotten with Antisemitism and yeah I am exaggerating but not really. Here is why:<br />
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The Kinder Transport. This was a very organized effort to get as many Jewish children out of Germany after Kristallnacht. Though Roosevelt gave it some lip service he ultimately declined to take any children from danger because "children should stay with their parents". Great Britian took 2,000 children -they never saw their parents again. And sure there was substantial evidence to show that kids were treated like the help.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">But that is not the point. <br />
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Roosevelt was almost a Nazi sympathizer. Need more? The first ambassador to Nazi Germany was William Dodd who was watching Nazi Germany take shape and because he was the US ambassador he heard first hand at dinners and state affairs that the Jewish people of Europe were in danger.<br />
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He appealed to the White House 3 or more times and was met with silence. I can't remember if he was removed from his post or if he quit. <br />
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But that's not the point. <br />
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Roosevelt's White House was responsible for the murder of many Jews in the late 30's because they were indifferent.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">Trump gave that gross thumbs up to the neo-nazis who know almost nothing about Nazi Germany. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: xx-large;">NOW that </span><i style="font-size: xx-large;">is </i><span style="font-size: xx-large;">the point.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div></div>Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-67532640946494501122021-10-28T12:32:00.002-04:002021-10-28T12:32:29.216-04:00Shit's Getting Weird Here<span style="font-size: large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />This is the result of depression with a wig at hand. </span><div><span style="font-size: large;">And also, I wrote this bitchin music.</span><div>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/F2z0g_INFTg" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></div></div>Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-32036766982176091092021-07-17T15:30:00.002-04:002021-07-17T15:30:35.005-04:00boring cam<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ0Xo6lzUubT6yD0OhsbcHWYuLm3t-W0jzZ_9lVFvsNWBbkMR35fr6ng6EpiaqW8G5Yv1vc3o2TKaaZSTRi-bhwJCZIIhobRBJLI1eb6U_wSaZ1KZEHIQIE3cZbovOlhwW8E7MUuXAsd0/s2048/me111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ0Xo6lzUubT6yD0OhsbcHWYuLm3t-W0jzZ_9lVFvsNWBbkMR35fr6ng6EpiaqW8G5Yv1vc3o2TKaaZSTRi-bhwJCZIIhobRBJLI1eb6U_wSaZ1KZEHIQIE3cZbovOlhwW8E7MUuXAsd0/s320/me111.jpg" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;">If I had to wear a body cam...my life, shell that it may be, would be too sad to even rise to Hulu-style tragic comedy.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Please God....don't make me wear a body cam.</span></p>Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-62578578436898465662021-07-13T20:42:00.000-04:002022-11-12T21:46:54.310-05:00I poked a Stick at the Fetish World and They loved it<p><span style="font-size: large;">I found an old blog of mine. I was quite popular on a site called ALT which was a BDSM site with some witty blogs but mostly they were horse shit. I dove in like it was prison:</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I found the most popular blogger who was a sweet peaceful hippy with a fetish or two and I attacked her in a post called "Namaste Motherfucker".</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Her tag line was </span><i style="font-size: x-large;">Namaste</i><span style="font-size: x-large;">. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg06rqB8GUKDbONseNVcWFXkJm7KUDOKUBA9ylRS_6C7SP8Jr2pQ1b_rhSt-n42Uq0M-q4dfOCDORvks-GLpMDG6uvWWPxnbRj9ZkUfdFE7H5r8QSxn6qyO0UhJjZhd291wfUXgJvgyQI7Cx0Sx1EpLKLT6ggKg-pHInxSZKp8yRmMo8O-xfoY6-v1y/s743/number4%20crap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="641" data-original-width="743" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg06rqB8GUKDbONseNVcWFXkJm7KUDOKUBA9ylRS_6C7SP8Jr2pQ1b_rhSt-n42Uq0M-q4dfOCDORvks-GLpMDG6uvWWPxnbRj9ZkUfdFE7H5r8QSxn6qyO0UhJjZhd291wfUXgJvgyQI7Cx0Sx1EpLKLT6ggKg-pHInxSZKp8yRmMo8O-xfoY6-v1y/w400-h345/number4%20crap.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And everyone came to the post and commented and I responded hilariously and by the end of the week 80 people were following me. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The odd thing is that I was making fun of BDSM in the blog...which begs the question: does everyone hate what they are doing? And why then are they doing it?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-23654558200702916892021-07-09T17:23:00.004-04:002021-07-09T17:25:16.339-04:00It's a dead thing that thinks it is alive
<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiogonHBDezABsDn7nyYgZyhbZNOnYZeVwwoBisUo63Jp_V5_ziPuylkVpqGhCYAtoPqiQnlvjo1_gJd2vwYIR0o4yldqB_o30KcZuKAFrT8OkWikHwb7SwcBWNwslMB5q3L_JHDGBENs0/s1920/VideoCapture_20210426-234330.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1088" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiogonHBDezABsDn7nyYgZyhbZNOnYZeVwwoBisUo63Jp_V5_ziPuylkVpqGhCYAtoPqiQnlvjo1_gJd2vwYIR0o4yldqB_o30KcZuKAFrT8OkWikHwb7SwcBWNwslMB5q3L_JHDGBENs0/s320/VideoCapture_20210426-234330.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-oC5nKoLy8SDRYknItG3vGf5dCAQ6h2_LbjL8Ldb54AzZlxs5hQDUMKOZl9dlA2uKWdLgBqN1RGY3NDl0hAEMF_MKfUgbHiqGRJEiX4wOY8GXKjLQYO37njaPykj8IyDVmxK1a6JIAEw/s1920/VideoCapture_20210424-051452.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1088" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-oC5nKoLy8SDRYknItG3vGf5dCAQ6h2_LbjL8Ldb54AzZlxs5hQDUMKOZl9dlA2uKWdLgBqN1RGY3NDl0hAEMF_MKfUgbHiqGRJEiX4wOY8GXKjLQYO37njaPykj8IyDVmxK1a6JIAEw/s320/VideoCapture_20210424-051452.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPQ_L6ekJufIBji-251bePZj24-S5XnU_FCIdt3RmEmngew934HQwoPu_GWBd79omBDHlVZ1WEly2OutjhcWfx-RdXbe2teNp8-Qk7AbJ9SXmHckpqiyfdPFgeYjpbaJMmu1sUbuHx_Ew/s1920/VideoCapture_20210709-171027.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1088" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPQ_L6ekJufIBji-251bePZj24-S5XnU_FCIdt3RmEmngew934HQwoPu_GWBd79omBDHlVZ1WEly2OutjhcWfx-RdXbe2teNp8-Qk7AbJ9SXmHckpqiyfdPFgeYjpbaJMmu1sUbuHx_Ew/s320/VideoCapture_20210709-171027.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">I started a project contesting the idea that the dark night of the soul is a one-time event in our lives. I believe that it is a darkness , a dead thing that thinks it is alive and seeks out light. Come what May.</span></div><div>So I decided to do it in some installments with the encouragement of some wonderful people.</div><div><br /></div><div>You can check it out on <a href="https://vimeo.com/showcase/5724214" target="_blank">Vimeo</a>. Or you can just move on because the whole idea bores you.</div><div> <p></p></div>Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-46147822552591172022021-03-06T01:51:00.007-05:002021-03-12T18:55:43.041-05:00Men know how to fix this, correct you on that<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">They sit there with a drink and talk a good game about how to fix your car or laptop or hell...they can tell you how things should be. Because they know. </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Then do nothing when it comes time to actually prove it.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: xx-large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">F'off . I can find a crankshaft sensor and new hood for my car. I don't need you. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">I might need a rental though. Can you give me some money. You don't have that either?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I should have been blonde. I rock this wig.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: xx-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUu-zmc-MhIwvZ2zUEPJjYqTwhL3RmIpnxjBr4j3FF8UaU65UzkyTAdfyog-mpg0CrQ8HoBvYZA_aPpyv1FUH5QOo_zhCLTJNwtXO3E-aweQh7NMR1PgNAG4D6MBET7Cd6zClj7u77jIU/s1920/20200722_200204.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1079" data-original-width="1920" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUu-zmc-MhIwvZ2zUEPJjYqTwhL3RmIpnxjBr4j3FF8UaU65UzkyTAdfyog-mpg0CrQ8HoBvYZA_aPpyv1FUH5QOo_zhCLTJNwtXO3E-aweQh7NMR1PgNAG4D6MBET7Cd6zClj7u77jIU/w640-h360/20200722_200204.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: xx-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: xx-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: xx-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: xx-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: xx-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: xx-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span><br /></span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p></p><span><a name='more'></a></span>Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-88337234184444796322021-02-09T22:06:00.003-05:002021-02-09T22:06:45.141-05:00Interstitial Lung Disease, said the Jewish doctor on Christmas Eve<p>That's about it. Sjogren's disease is going to kill me. And I had some long term plans..</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaZA5m9db4614-0hBD6hAO34c17mP7wIN7wdWDCaXNV2LvDHSCl1EtFztPmHCOnJqLaJN6sPxnMrWFRJrD1ulWZXJpHd0PBmzCWoWjUDS5exOI2D1pdq2MNTeFxth9rI23qOMgr186YvA/s500/jose.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="500" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaZA5m9db4614-0hBD6hAO34c17mP7wIN7wdWDCaXNV2LvDHSCl1EtFztPmHCOnJqLaJN6sPxnMrWFRJrD1ulWZXJpHd0PBmzCWoWjUDS5exOI2D1pdq2MNTeFxth9rI23qOMgr186YvA/w400-h300/jose.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-10841603058552278502021-01-22T22:24:00.001-05:002021-02-09T22:28:29.930-05:00POP!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJajoSaQo7H6GDulJOwZg297MD2Wv_Xm7kwOoqSGqGu3BC8C1TVIhkUVmIdWTgvOpnZdw1dQMlrV3nn8qZWODB6fqCjMvL6KEla1mXuJOl8CknyliY2dlQ7c7ZCDBZr2RnpBfdrIlOe0w/s755/std.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="755" data-original-width="617" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJajoSaQo7H6GDulJOwZg297MD2Wv_Xm7kwOoqSGqGu3BC8C1TVIhkUVmIdWTgvOpnZdw1dQMlrV3nn8qZWODB6fqCjMvL6KEla1mXuJOl8CknyliY2dlQ7c7ZCDBZr2RnpBfdrIlOe0w/s320/std.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />I also have celiac disease which would be just the worst were I still into dating.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I guess there is a bright side to this. The end of my social life PRE-ceded celiac. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">What the fuck???</span></p>Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-36495087864241632942021-01-22T08:20:00.001-05:002021-10-28T12:46:05.577-04:00The Last Thing Otis Redding Did<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-size: medium;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;">This video has always had an impact on me and not because it was one of the greatest songs ever sung by possibly the greatest R&B singer who ever lived….but because almost everyone in this video would be dead in little more than 24 hours.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;">Otis Reading, four of the Bar-Kays , behind him, died December 10, 1967 on the way to a gig after taping this on December 9th. </span></span></span><br />
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<span color:="" style="color: #990000; them: they are so young and running into the life ahead of them. They had no idea that they were running only into their last hours. </span></span></span><br /> <span style=;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: medium;"></span></span><br /></span>
<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;">There is a deafening loneliness to this video – like a wave that washes up on the beach when everyone has gone to sleep and "lovely" leaves "empty" in charge of the ocean til morning. It is a dark exchange where bad deals are made. That is what this video is and seeing him sing with that full-on emotion explains we people loved him so much. And we have the gift of this video! </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;">And the burden of watching it.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: #ea9999; font-size: medium;"></span></span><br /></span><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;">There is nothing like hindsight and even better there is nothing like the internet where we become revisionist historians of the dramatic variety. Have I not retold my stories, fleshing out here, burying there? Why do we rewrite parts of our lives when every minute leads to something else - tributaries that become our own oceans that pull our dreams out and spraying us with the humility carried in the foam of each wave. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #990000;">Every </span>Yes, every Maybe, every single moment carries a story. Every</span></span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> single person wants to tell it because we are fragile and are at times crushed by the weight of our own humanness which is "need". </span></span></span><div><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Our anger, our sadness, indignancy - this is part of every person's story but we can change it because for us, there is time. We can change our stories. </span></span></span></div><div><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We think we can.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: #990000; font-size: x-large;">We think that. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000;">Otis Reading was lived 26 years. There's nothing else to write.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span style="color: #990000;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #990000;">(with thanks to Andrzej Liguz who included me in the <i>Epitome of Cool</i> for the piece)</span></span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-30137882380409205782020-09-10T13:34:00.002-04:002021-02-09T21:57:46.594-05:00Freddie Gray 2015<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg_XhFC-94qcYUmBMigi83mRVVVlMRE8oWY5RWbnq0y7W5nyHdmozNF0svLIFapyci_t4P7K0AtGcl8L61aJ9eOdkY1agv_CNr3CfQ95HEQqiazRxEQwAu6aNqJVSuLw-rIbxqC3e487c/s2048/636413583952470176-Uprising-0027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1157" data-original-width="2048" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg_XhFC-94qcYUmBMigi83mRVVVlMRE8oWY5RWbnq0y7W5nyHdmozNF0svLIFapyci_t4P7K0AtGcl8L61aJ9eOdkY1agv_CNr3CfQ95HEQqiazRxEQwAu6aNqJVSuLw-rIbxqC3e487c/w640-h362/636413583952470176-Uprising-0027.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />(Devin Allen photo/freddie gray death)<br /><div><br /></div><div>A day in the life. If you are a black man and you do something wrong or DON'T do something wrong, this happens. And although the medical examiner and city found it was a homicide , Trump's bitch William Barr took over the case - the US DOJ - and the charges were dropped. I threw up from crying that day.<br />
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My white half brother was pulled over for driving after suspension for a DWI - driving while intoxicated. He called me from the scene - 3 blocks away in a 5 degree day, and asked me to walk up and drive the car while he waits with the officer.<br />
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The cop apologized to my half brother and off we went. I wanted to leave him there but no matter what I did his skin would stay white and nothing would happen to him.<br />
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<span style="border: 0px; font-size: x-large; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">A long time back I met a 20 year old drunk attention whore at a party and she disclosed that she had been raped. Six or 7 minutes after the introduction she gives a rape cry so transparent it made me uncomfortable. ME! Being an attention whore myself and, at the time, a devotee of Smirnoff by the half gallon, I was usually the one to make outlandish scenes at parties so that everyone, willingly or not, would have to turn their focus my way if only for 15 minutes or so but claims of rape upon an introduction violated even my loose etiquette.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: "libre baskerville", serif; margin-bottom: 15px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I didn’t like this girl. She would (within the year) steal my boyfriend and marry him. I punched her in the face at a pizza joint during lunch rush and let me tell you…sometimes you just have to knock someone’s teeth in to get closure. But I still had this grudge over her bullshit party rape cry.</span><span style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> It was at a raging boil just beneath my usual irritation and I didn’t know why.</span></span><br />
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<span style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Then the day came that I blurted out – completely unintentionally and to my own horror – that I had been raped. I hated her for making a mockery of me by using a rape confession as an ice breaker when I had to walk around for years unable to even admit it had happened to me. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">That’s the trouble with rape. When you’re a loose, damaged drunk girl – you file it under “stuff that happens because you’re a loose damaged drunk girl - WITH "</span><span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i>a side of looking to be loved, no onion</i></span><span style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">". It also comes - at no extra charge - b</span><span style="font-style: inherit;">lack dude no English, bass player 1, drummer from beach, boyfriend’s brother, boyfriend’s best friend, dude with corvette, bass player 2, some chick’s boyfriend, diesel dyke who saves you from getting your ass kicked at some bar, mystery guys of 1985, tattoo guy, married guys 1 through 12, old boyfriend hate fuck, peg leg, faceless kid, boss, boss, guy from boat docks, Jim, port wine stain, 2 guys who picked you up hitch hiking….2 guys who picked you up hitch hiking….2 guys who….</span></span></div><div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: "libre baskerville", serif; margin-bottom: 15px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-style: inherit;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: xx-large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkGYqnb5PM9KP_bKm_TIBS8SPOlt9ODySE430Lh9bjLKTxTMQmOpfdX2ikLAVVG6y1TKTbWdIx7FNZquD_NTy5MxQc66bZl0QeQqYcac5gUPrtkZ87pgNn_EvndsMHL3Jd6ZK92jJQzDI/s400/jiffy-pop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="299" data-original-width="400" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkGYqnb5PM9KP_bKm_TIBS8SPOlt9ODySE430Lh9bjLKTxTMQmOpfdX2ikLAVVG6y1TKTbWdIx7FNZquD_NTy5MxQc66bZl0QeQqYcac5gUPrtkZ87pgNn_EvndsMHL3Jd6ZK92jJQzDI/w400-h299/jiffy-pop.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: xx-large; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium; font-style: inherit;">(photo has nothing to do with anything)</span></div></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: medium; text-align: center;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: "libre baskerville", serif; margin-bottom: 15px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">The first year I thought I was making it up for some reason. I wouldn’t talk about it. I most certainly wouldn’t blurt it out with a handshake at parties. But the time came when I </span><span style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i>could </i></span><span style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">talk. Or at least sing about. I worked the entire rape into an awkwardly detailed song as part of a performance piece I was doing in front of an audience that included my parents. After the show people said “that hitch hiking song was intense!” and “you seemed hypnotized during it!”. Never did anyone consider that it was a true story but why would they? Who performs the details of their rape in a Marie Antoinette wig and a fishnet shirt?</span></span><br />
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<span style="border: 0px; font-size: x-large; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Rape is gray, silent, denied when you’re not a good girl. You become accustomed to sexual degradation so much so that you can’t recognize the crime committed against you. You push it down and down. I had that fake rape victim acting as a place holder I suppose until I could release the information to myself. Thanks bitch. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">But…no breakthrough comes. No sudden 180 degree change in how you feel about yourself or what you believe is acceptable treatment from men. It keeps going only in a more sophisticated and obfuscated way: now the guys have names and you know them for more than 12 hours. </span><span style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">But you’re still bringing that self-loathing, pathetic, love starved, damaged girl to each date and the wrong man will exploit it and all you know are wrong men. You’re raped again and again in some way but it’s “bad luck with men” or it’s “experimental, edgy domination and submission sex” or “a hook up with an old boyfriend” and you’re consenting to your own victimization. You’re almost worse off when you admit it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="border: 0px; font-size: x-large; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">In the movies or on Law and Order it seems like the victim is usually some uptown respectable girl with a career and a 401k who is attacked while unlocking the door to her penthouse apartment. It’s not someone like me who thanks her rapists for the ride home after the assault then buries it for years with booze, coke and angry cock after angry cock while going from job to job, apartment to apartment in cheap shoes and a fake smile framed in lips painted cheaply.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: "libre baskerville", serif; margin-bottom: 15px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; font-size: x-large; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> The worst part was knowing that I should have better shoes, I should have a career, I should be in Chanel make up or at least have one Chanel lipstick by now. Everyone around me was accomplishing, improving. Thank HEAVENS they were accomplishing and improving in areas I would not be caught dead in. </span><br />
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<span style="font-style: inherit;">Digging out of the ditch when you’ve been sexually victimized is an incremental process where you are only less victimized and then even less victimized and then…you’re out. But you are different.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Why am I writing this? I do not like to get too personal on the internet anymore but I am just so excited about my expensive shoe collection and </span><span style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Chanel lipsticks. Turns out I much prefer Guerlain. I colored my whole face in w</span><span style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">ith their shade "Garconne". It was like, my way of dropping the mic.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-style: inherit;">Boom. Motherfucker</span><span style="font-style: inherit;">s.</span></span><br />
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Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-25628291452626632312020-07-31T17:11:00.000-04:002020-08-25T17:11:40.056-04:00i read a victorian porn book - with a wand<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA2w4puFWVLbkBlK6GuiAUclqq413SqO5muYGap4G7O2v-xhOnRWmyLV9niuEWzkUXEUxE1ogywZXD-GexZde071BCgnn2gBLub6sdFT2lNtZRukKiZ6vHqgjnxeCvmHwFuHTcor5TfHU/s1600/fixed+12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA2w4puFWVLbkBlK6GuiAUclqq413SqO5muYGap4G7O2v-xhOnRWmyLV9niuEWzkUXEUxE1ogywZXD-GexZde071BCgnn2gBLub6sdFT2lNtZRukKiZ6vHqgjnxeCvmHwFuHTcor5TfHU/s640/fixed+12.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I read a book recently called “An Inconvenient Wife†(author Megan Chance, 2004), another one of my one penny “Acceptable Condition†scores from Amazon. Look: “Acceptable Condition†is the same quality as the average library book so why not buy it? Buy 10 and pay the shipping of one. Amazon. Killing the library one used book at a time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This book is an easy first person read.  tells the tale of one of those turn of the century New York socialites floating from ballroom to ballroom in a bustled skirt and bearing no expression, it having been wiped clean off her face by a steady dose of laudanum, whose uterus is being blamed for all her husband’s trouble. <em>“She’s not conforming! She has a busted uterus!â€</em> And so it went back then. If a woman showed an inclination toward anything other than behaving, accompanying or properly reflecting, some perv doctor was rushed in to shove his hand into her cunt, deem her hysterical! a failure of a wife! and sympathize over a brandy with the poor husband whose wealth was likely acquired from the woman in the first place.  Of course, he would consider himself duped into the union by his troublesome bride's father but with 50,000 a year, or whatever was considered rich, it likely came out in the wash if the marriage was a step up for the groom. Nonetheless, dose her with drugs and make her excuses to the Vandershits.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Back then, women weren't married so much as acquired in the pursuit of a man's furtherance. They were obtained for their wealth, their social status and, in the best of cases, their father's lack of a male heir.  This was objectification (of the non-sexual kind) in it's finest hour.  Sexually, the upper class wives were touched quickly, with purpose, in the dark and almost always while entirely clothed.  It was a proper event packed with such shame that husbands would be  rendered unable to identify their headless wives' corpses.  Should they become headless.  It wasn't proper to fuck your wife.  That's what prostitutes were for and the turn of the 19th century was a wicked hey-day for whores, boy.  Wives of class were not considered a source of sexual pleasure but merely an occasional outlet in which to jerk off quickly and without any sullying.  Used for everything else, valued for nothing but what they could do for the husband's social standing, women of the upper class lived in a sexual abyss.  It may even be that way now, I don't know.  I am not married and my only experience with marriage is through acquaintance with married men and based on that alone I'd have to say the times haven't changed all that much.  With the exception of this:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Today a woman can have a bad day and keep her uterus.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In 1850 she had better keep her shit to herself or she'd be locked up in an asylum, dosed hourly with opium and soaked in ice water for lengths of time which would be considered criminal even by the Ayatollah. Â Her money would stay at home with the master who would multiply it, revel in it, blow it on whores and stop just short of fucking a pile of it on the wife's empty bed. Â By 1870 things got a little trickier for women still. Â Doctors figured out how to rip the uterus right out. Â Cry three times in a year - asylum. Â Four? Â Hysterectomy of the 50% mortality rate persuasion. Â It was a grim time for women. Â But with the advent of real psychiatry came understanding, treatment, the divorce and well well....here we are.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"An Inconvenient Wife" has all the trappings of this shitty time for chicks, including the wielding of the "wand", a medical curiosity which, despite the vibrating humiliation of it, was accepted widely by many upper class parted thighs. Â The book has also the striking earmarks of a chick flick as it goes down the path of fantasy where the woman becomes empowered in a matter of a page and turns the tables on a sociopathic lover who, on his knees and contrary to every trait of his personality, professes undying love. Â The ghost of Jane Austen is smugly pleased.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Turns out I didn't really review the book here but instead waxed indignant over the period of the misunderstood period and the overall treatment of women by husbands and the doctors they employed to shut them the fuck up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Every once in a while I feel like I've dodged a bullet.]]></</span>Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-62516780043097541412020-07-04T17:43:00.001-04:002021-07-09T14:06:35.229-04:00Poetry Douche: the video<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnXAU7kjOzehicyyE8zmThjwwccdDelAMlFa0f1eeXICNaoGdAj87yTW0KhlQ1GHn15L8kwxwBTazZtHdMHmzmmF1skpLrffXJW_NM9kAc7B6dKyaH-W7wArbZgeUlx0hxOCr2I4_0riQ/s1600/say+no+to+art+1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="563" data-original-width="1000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnXAU7kjOzehicyyE8zmThjwwccdDelAMlFa0f1eeXICNaoGdAj87yTW0KhlQ1GHn15L8kwxwBTazZtHdMHmzmmF1skpLrffXJW_NM9kAc7B6dKyaH-W7wArbZgeUlx0hxOCr2I4_0riQ/s400/say+no+to+art+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">sAy to NO tO aRt</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This is a new segment of the Fatova Mingus Show formerly known as "CRAFTING! w/ fatova Mingus. The final crafting episode was a feature of <a href="https://youtu.be/g-LUYdIX57Q">Quinn Mason,</a> a composer and conductor truly ahead of his time but not in any sort of Stravinsky way. He's not Stravinsky.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">If you want to watch <a href="https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLiLVo7MRLxI41wR14O-hTYWMVeI0cqo0x">the Fatova Mingus show</a> it is temporarily on YouTube until I finish my fucking website.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Merry Christmas!</span><br />
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/wyCssKRYatE" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen></iframe>Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-15535542951715324752020-06-03T20:54:00.000-04:002020-08-25T17:12:24.979-04:00POP!<div style="text-align: left;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsPFggLd8T_cKJ-3nMI83PB1z1HU4tocPEWZXnfx85KGKV0TQ5J5wRTxfnilCtJ0Hr7sTxDM9xoMi-1afKOq_cjtPDbkSUu3etGI3I9mRmTDp6hb7osPz55PiX3PC8CoO5D_O2wi3E-m4/s1600/blackwigonastring.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsPFggLd8T_cKJ-3nMI83PB1z1HU4tocPEWZXnfx85KGKV0TQ5J5wRTxfnilCtJ0Hr7sTxDM9xoMi-1afKOq_cjtPDbkSUu3etGI3I9mRmTDp6hb7osPz55PiX3PC8CoO5D_O2wi3E-m4/s400/blackwigonastring.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I need you . I love and touch and dream you. I want you to use everything , take all of it, bring me down with you, menacing , an extension, mold me, make me and yield. And yield. Bring me back up, wet, warm. I need you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Or dinner, you know that would work. I'm flexible, I'll wait to hear from you, no pressure.</span></div>
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Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-90512128796050569352020-04-15T22:31:00.001-04:002023-01-01T00:52:55.088-05:00i made a scene<span style="font-size: large;">I have funny stories. Wanna hear one?</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho93BiPjTdw7nLdhvJ6JWLXEb56qgnVrjw_QmeR9tvI2fpOuPtVByKtJqoVriv_AhZVzxWQGoeFwgokgkYDa5jRtllmoRH84215c5NIggmC8qN0Sn0iy5fC-UW8NPMRwW_FMdmrR-Tysw/s1600/DDL.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="453" data-original-width="604" height="348" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho93BiPjTdw7nLdhvJ6JWLXEb56qgnVrjw_QmeR9tvI2fpOuPtVByKtJqoVriv_AhZVzxWQGoeFwgokgkYDa5jRtllmoRH84215c5NIggmC8qN0Sn0iy5fC-UW8NPMRwW_FMdmrR-Tysw/w464-h348/DDL.jpg" width="464" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I found this photo today- which I photoshopped in a stupor I guess.This was one of the worst days I can remember. I was in pieces, heartbreak like a dull ache that throbs and giggles. Life is terrible in this place. I am the one in middle by the way</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But I had long past made plans with these 2 chicks who I hadn't seen in 20 years. We met at a spot on the harbor, a deck, very nice. And there was a Reggae band which was out of place but there they were. There I was.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">These girls had not changed. In fact I was embarrassed for Mimi who somehow fell into a 1989 vortex of neon spandex, big hair and vodka tonics. This was how it went:</span><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Fatova dance with me! Dance, come on! Come on! </span></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I wanted to lay on the deck and sob and this headcase is at me to dance with her which I hate unless I am in a blackout so I had 2 choices: punch her in the face or dance. I danced with her.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-size: large;"><i>You aren't fun anymore! What happened to crazy Fatova?? You used to be so fun! Come on! </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My response was a show stopper. I picked up my glass and threw it hard to the floor sending shards everywhere. Of course the band stopped just in time for everyone to see the spectacle:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>"What do you want Mimi? Do you want me to go fuck the bass player? Do you want me to throw up all over the floor here and then fuck the bass player? Will that make you happy?" </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And with my purse in tow, I stormed to the exit (I will never forget this) and yelled at the top of my lungs "Get out of the 80's you stupid fucking whore!" and fell down the stairs</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">HILarious. I was able to get up it wasn't a bad fall, I heard people laugh and the band started again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I think I ended on a good note but barfing all over myself would have been so cool. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgasfzelmozkLkFNcJ8gMjbfgZmJaEGSEXU5oq2XgqjC9oUFmh5wmWZ8XwAMc4zEmq0fbwby9zX__B0hguzaa14y_5M-1rnLJr2Y08Nmg0oYxtDEUFTQ1g5ma5qEakXeKDr1QcelHbE0Qk/s1600/86.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="582" data-original-width="580" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgasfzelmozkLkFNcJ8gMjbfgZmJaEGSEXU5oq2XgqjC9oUFmh5wmWZ8XwAMc4zEmq0fbwby9zX__B0hguzaa14y_5M-1rnLJr2Y08Nmg0oYxtDEUFTQ1g5ma5qEakXeKDr1QcelHbE0Qk/s320/86.jpg" width="318" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Crazy Fatova. I think I am wearing a stonewash miniskirt.Ugh.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But the takeaway here is ...yeah. I one threw up on a dance floor and then fucked the bass player. </span><br />
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Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-27508327580762112462020-04-08T20:56:00.000-04:002020-08-25T17:14:42.746-04:00Meanwhile, Luigi Russolo Was Making A Lot Of Noise<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: x-large;">In 1909, The Futurist movement in art was taking, um, non-shape. Writer Filippo Tommaso Marinetti, founder/promoter (eventually Fascist) of this Futurist concept was probably insane though there were people around him that used his concepts experimentally. Marinetti - in my mind - is like "The Black Hand" from "Godfather II". Remember? Don Fanucci? Like an Italian blowhard, cruising on his charisma and intimidation but...like Gertrude Stein said: "There is no <em>there,</em> there".</span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-size: x-large;">Marinetti was not an artist. He was a "conceptualist". His manifesto was too aggressive. The idea <i>itself </i>was aggressive: abandon everything. Nouns, painting, thinking, limits, music! Break from the past! Art, politics, all of it removed from thinking which is totally exciting but like in a "kool-aid" way.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-size: 130%;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Italians like to everything big, you know. Grand gestures and big thinking are just in the genes. . The Futurist painting style was deliberately abstract and fast and were it human it would have certainly had balls and a sinister mustache. Maybe a rap sheet and a wife with a black eye. Being masculine in form I think the whole deal leaned toward misogyny. You can read more about it. Not here but somewhere I am sure.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-size: 130%;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Here is Giacomo Balla's "Abstract Speed and Sound". </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-size: x-large;">I think it looks stupid.. It never took off. Why would it? It's like your frustrated gay art teacher from 8th grade did it. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-size: x-large;">But I'm just killing time here, I couldn't care less about Giacomo Balla, architecture style, who started what or what they didn't believe in or whether nouns and adjectives should be "freed" from the sentence sentence (yeah!). </span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-size: x-large;">It is painter and composer Luigi Russolo and his 1913 manifesto <strong>"The Art of Noises"</strong> that really put a pin in this movement and had he not been there and had he not done what he did...I wouldn't even be writing this and you wouldn't care. The assumption being that you do.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-size: x-large;">He - I feel - indeed used the concepts for freeing music from its confines of instruments, traditional structure and expectation by </span><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: x-large;">experimenting with noise, power driven instrumentation and vocalizations. Here. Listen.</span><br />
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<iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/4t3lLMq7c7g" width="560"></iframe>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-size: x-large;">If you want to kick someone in the shin over Yoko Ono, this is your guy.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-size: x-large;">Russolo's invention - the intonarumori -</span><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: x-large;"> is used in the piece above, </span><em style="color: #45818e; font-size: xx-large;"><strong>Macchina Tipografica. </strong></em><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: x-large;">It created an engine-like sound whose pitch could be altered - something altogether new.</span><strong style="color: #45818e; font-size: xx-large;"> You know... </strong><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: x-large;">h</span><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: x-large;">e debuted this thing in 1913 or 1914 - I can not recall but it was a small elite audience and though I can not find the documentation on this now, Igor Stravinsky was one of the elite who was "intrigued by this invention" . That quote seems right. Stravinsky referred to himself as not a composer of music but an inventor of music. It would be a hardcore compliment, no? Stravinsky would recall it as humorous later. I believe him either way.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: x-large;">Because of the intonarumori, Russolo is considered the first theorist in electronic music.</span>
<span style="color: #45818e; font-size: 130%;">It is alleged that none of these original machines survived World War I and only reproductions exist today. Even if its not true, it makes the story cool. But you know, there is always a "bones of King Richard under a Walmart" or an unknown Coltrane recording in a barrel of monkeys, I don't know I'm just saying stuff here. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-size: 130%;"> Russolo was a ground breaker. He emerged from Futurism with something that actually substantiated the whole thing: breaking from the confines of music with<i> noise. </i>And all noise is musical.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: 130%;">The Futurist movement was crushed as a whole, far too forward in its thinking in the small areas; too radical and totally suspect in the big ones.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-size: 130%;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">But it splintered under the weight of that crush and, as if throwing seeds into the universe to grow at a later time, we would see and hear the Futurists of 1910 in all sorts of places. In the future.</span> </span>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-size: x-large;">Yours for nothing,</span><br />
<span style="color: #45818e; font-size: x-large;">Fatova</span><br />
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-size: x-large;">(originally posted in the future)</span><br />
<span style="color: #45818e; font-size: x-large;">(and in 2009)</span></div>
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Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4478560122909139878.post-64869563098045253852020-01-24T17:01:00.000-05:002020-08-25T17:02:37.201-04:00POP!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">There was a man who I was madly in love with but alas it was not to be. If you ask this witch L. I was in love with him from the beginning of time and will until the end without it materializing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So I threw her in the river to see if she floated. But she sank right to the bottom so she wasn't a witch after all. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I probably should have told someone but I was really mad.</span>Fatova Mingushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17020034011953405491noreply@blogger.com0