MALIBU

interior turmoil

it has started again. time to drop some acid and realign my energies? fuck you, and you, and all the rest of you. fuck you.

agitadores

tomando mdma a las 3 de la madrugada de un dia miercoles (o martes?), yendo a laburar al dia siguiente. i feel i'm 19 again. and it feels sweet and fresh and delicious. i will always be a muppet.

my new tattoo

(tattoo and photo by np)

margaritas

for more info, go here

www.leafly.com

a lot of weed

THIS POST HAS BEEN CENSORED

thought of the day

american people take too long to give you an answer on something that should have been answered in seconds.

outrageous

oblivion

someone said this word yesterday and it made me think - how many times i've driven myself to that state. i kind of love the limbo ribotril state. but i'm clean these days, and it's also good.
also, i don't usually post the work i'm involved with, but this is vogue, and i think it's pretty fucking fancy to have your name on it.

full cover credits:
Model: Isabeli Fontana@Women Management NY
Photography: Sebastian Faena
Fashion Editor: Ece Sükan
Hair: Alain Pichon
Make up: Serge Hodonou
Production: Hxxxx Mxxxx Sxxxx (BABYFACE)
Leather jacket by Hakaan, transparent body by Mugler, knitwear bustier and short by Mango

love it

'Sex act' UK millionaires charged'

A multimillionaire British couple have vowed to fight charges against them after they were arrested in a US nightclub following an alleged sex act.

Entrepreneurs Chris and Mary Gorman were arrested by police in Orlando, Florida, after a member of staff at the city's Roxy venue found two men and a woman in the men's toilets.

The couple, who live in Renfrewshire and are thought to be worth more than £40 million, do not face indecency charges.

Mrs Gorman is charged with possessing cocaine and is accused of lashing out at a police officer after she was allegedly discovered in the toilet with her husband and another man.

Her husband is accused of obstructing a police officer as his wife was being arrested on August 13. The pair, who have four children, could face court proceedings at a later date.

In a statement the couple denied the allegations and said they were in a "horrendous" situation.

They said: "We are obviously horrified by this as, although the arrest did happen, we firmly do not believe that we have done anything to merit the charges or treatment we received.

"We totally refute all the charges and have appointed an attorney in Orlando who fully expects a successful resolution in due course.

"This is an already horrendous situation for us and our children, so anything that can be done to limit this would be very much appreciated."

Mr Gorman, originally from Hartlepool, made his millions in technology companies such as mobile phone retailer DX Communications and internet services firm Reality Group. Mrs Gorman describes herself as a "creative entrepreneur" with business interests in technology, music, beauty and the creative industries.

today i woke up thinking about this song

HERE

cool

perdon el sadismo. alabado sea el señor.

Un enjambre de abejas atacó a un cortejo fúnebre: un muerto 26/10/11 - 11:24

Fue en el cementerio de Mistol Pozo, en Santiago del Estero. Los insectos salieron al abrir un nicho y atacaron a los familiares de una mujer que iba a ser inhumada. A la angustia de despedir a un ser querido se le sumó la tragedia en un pequeño pueblo de Santiago del Estero en el que en medio de un cortejo fúnebre un hombre murió al ser atacado por un enjambre de abejas, que también provocó picaduras en otras personas. El drama se desató ayer por la mañana, en el cementerio del paraje Mistol Pozo, en el departamento de Salavina, a unos 180 kilómetros de la capital provincial. Hasta allí se habían dirigido una veintena de personas que trasladaban los restos de Estela de Olivera, una mujer de esa localidad que había muerto en Rosario el fin de semana anterior. Al abrir el nicho para colocar el féretro salieron miles de abejas que habían armado allí su colmena y atacaron a los familiares y amigos de la mujer fallecida. Un hombre, Hilario Coronel, de 63 años, murió como consecuencia de las picaduras. La situación impidió que se concretara la inhumación y el cajón quedó en el suelo, mientras la gente corría para escapar de los enfurecidos insectos. Horas después concurrieron al cementerio policías del descatamento de Villa Mailín, pero también fueron atacados por las abejas, por lo que se convocó al lugar personal especializado con los equipos de apicultores para alejar a los insectos y así poder sepultar a la mujer.


 Diputados italianos, a las piñas en el Parlamento 26/10/11 - 13:12

En medio de un acalorado debate por el plan de reformas económicas, partidarios de la Liga Norte, socios de Berlusconi, se enfrentaron con opositores que exigían la renuncia del primer ministro.
imagenes

 Los diputados italianos intercambiaron golpes en el parlamento debido a las tensiones en un programa de reformas económicas. (ANSA/Imagen TV) Votar0 Compartir Compartir Más información Fracaso de Berlusconi: sus aliados no apoyan el ajuste que exige la UE Una economía que no crece, con una deuda que asfixia + Noticias Etiquetas Italia, diputados En pleno debate por el plan de reformas económicas en la Cámara de Diputados italiana, un grupo de parlamentarios de la Liga Norte, el partido socio en el gobierno de Silvio Berlusconi, protagonizó hoy un acalorado incidente al insultarse y agarrarse a las piñas con legisladores del partido de la oposición Futuro y Libertad para Italia (FLI) de Gianfranco Fini. Los incidentes se desataron tras la intervención del portavoz de la Liga Norte, Marco Reguzzoni, criticando unas declaraciones televisivas de Fini, en las que acusaba a la esposa de Umberto Bossi, el líder del partido, de ser una "babyjubilada" por recibir una pensión desde que cumplió 39 años. "Es inoportuno que el presidente de la cámara haga política y participe en programas de televisión, como ocurrió ayer en Ballaró (el tercer canal de la RAI)", afirmó Reguzzoni entre los aplausos de sus correligionarios, que enseguida corearon gritos de "dimisión, dimisión". La tensión se incrementó partidarios del FLI de Fini salieron en defensa del titular de la Cámara baja, que intervino para explicar que Diputados "no es la sede en la que su presidente pueda dar respuestas políticas". Ante estas palabras, crecieron los gritos por parte de los diputados de la Liga Norte. La vicepresidenta de la Cámara, Rosy Bindi, se vio obligada a suspender la sesión y pidió disculpas "por el espectáculo" a un grupo de estudiantes que había acudido a la sede política como público. No es la primera vez que la Cámara de los Diputados tiene que hacer frente a un episodio como este, ya que el 11 de octubre fueron los partidos de la oposición los que, desde sus tribunas, pidieron a gritos la dimisión del primer ministro italiano, Silvio Berlusconi.

PARIS

yo no quiero vivir como digan

when sadness meets joy and joy meets sadness

le portrait sans retouche de l'homme qui m'appartient.

i like this song. i feel sad today.

i feel bittersweet.

i better cry, baby, cry

looking hot in london

monday morning

el club del agite.com

(JT and A were there too)

para agitar un poco (to shake a little bit)

temazo (themeso ng) para (for) toda (al) las (the) gallina (chicke)

dedica este graffigro, recien (just) salido (got out) del (from) oven

antes que te vayas dame un beso
se que soniare con tu regreso
mi vida no es igual
desde que te perdi
como te voy a olvidar
ah eh
como te voy a olvidaaaaaa
paraparaparamaparamapamamama

he high rider too

my friend al's cat

i'm a high rider too

CARTA A MI PADRE

estuve pensando mucho lo que me dijiste el otro dia.  la verdad, me puso muy mal.  primero, que el imbecil de yoji, a mis 24 años, te llame a vos para discutir sobre mis actividades en vez de llamarme a mi.  eso ni hablar.
lo que peor me puso fue el sentimiento de ilegitimidad que me dio el ver que considerás mis actividades como vulgares, semi-porno, "no dignas de mi". 
Creo que es importante tener un lugar de valores seguros, y eso seguro que sos vos y la vieja para mi, de eso no hay duda.  Pero tambien, me di cuenta, necesito su apoyo incondicional en lo que concierne mi "carrera artística", whatever that means.  necesito saber que ustedes confian en mi y en mi criterio, en mi búsqueda.
Nunca me voy a olvidar, en las varias conversaciones que tuve con la vieja, me dijo "Cuando vas a parar de teñirte el pelo, usar esa ropa?  Dejar de ir entre puta y gitana?"  Durante toda mi adolescencia y varios años en París me dió mucha culpa eso de vestirme como lo hago, la tendencia a los colores, la visibilidad, el "edge", el "deuxième degré".  Hasta que hace muy poco descubrí que no quiero reprimir eso.  No quiero decirme, como con amor me dice la vieja "Ay chiquita porque sentís que necesitás de esas cosas.  Cuando conozcas tu valor dejarás de usar de esa imagen".
Hoy por hoy, padres, familia, mi combate, mi inspiración, mi mensaje, es el de la feminidad subversiva -lúdica, lúbrica e inteligente.  Esto es algo que está presente en mi desde que tengo memoria, y que fue reforzado y legitimizado por mis experiencias en Argentina en tanto que "negrita gordita" y  el subsecuente florecimiento y educación que otorgó, tan generosamente, la France.  Hoy en día puedo decir que lo que quizás en su momento fue una manera de lidiar con fantasmas, esa "lógica de la subversión" que siempre me animó, es algo que elijo estimular, hacer visible y sobre todo, desculpabilizar.  Es lo que soy, y además, lo elijo.
Soy mujer, mulata, latina, inmigrante, y licenciada (casi masterizada!!!!).  Elijo hacer visibles todas esas cosas.   Elijo ser "el otro", (decir "la otra" tiene otro significado.  ven como funcionan los sistemas de opresión en el lenguaje?), consciente de que no es un camino fácil, pero a sabiendas que, por el momento, es el que quiero caminar.
Lo que ven en facebook es solo una parte de lo que sucede en mi vida.  Nadie saca fotos de mi cuando estoy escribiendo, pensando, creando.  No hay fotos del compromiso que tengo con la vida, de la parte "seria" que ocupa mis horas.  Lo que ven en facebook es solo una parte de mi.  Lo que ven en el blog es otra parte de mi.  Como bien lo dijiste, Héctor, no me representa en mi totalidad. 
No por hacer comparaciones pelotudas, pero para poner todo esto unpoco en perspectiva: XXXXX XXXX  también parece haber elegido ese camino.  Pero yo jamás, oh gran jamás, caminaré con ella.  Dos combates similares, pero muy distintos.  Ella eligió la oscuridad para desarrollarlo, yo elijo la luz.  Toda mi producción artística se centra en la alegría de vivir, el eros, donde si hay tetas, culos, ovarios, curbas, labios, piel, brillantina y colores.  Pero no hay conchas ni culos como agujeros tragamonedas.  La producción de XXXXX, lo se porque me lo ha dicho, es meterle un palo en el culo al sistema.  Mi producción no se coje a nadie.    Son dos tipos de carne, de incarnaciones, completamente diferentes. 
Espero poder hacerme comprender
espero que entiendan
los quiero muchisimo
sofia

siva baba imparting wisdom

sweet bandana. as for the rest, i'm slightly confused.

neon trip

stole it from matt, for the glew community and all my peeps around the world

today i miss the USA

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Paris, sometimes i do love you

CDG

HAWT

picture by MB

yesterday or the day before yesterday

 montauk's light house

andy warhol's house in montauk (symbolically one of the highlights of my life in the usa)

team iluminate

NYC EARTHQUAKE

crazy last 18 hours.

last night, at 4am, a badger/skunk came into the house in montauk and broke all the glasses of the house. total mayhem. here's a picture of the animal i think it was.

then, we just found out there was an earthquake in new york city. we didn't feel it in montauk, but what the fuck.

simultaneously, there's a friend in the caribbean being held by hurricane diana.

as marvin gaye would say, "what's going on?"

los noughties

2002

2003

i couldn't do it

i couldn't do it. i couldn't answer to what i had offered.

i think the reasons for this are:

- it's been such a long time since i don't have sex that i feel really vulnerable, like the idea of being naked with someone is pretty daunting
- it's been such a long time since i haven't had sex that the idea of having a dick in my hand it's pretty scary. i don't even remember last time i gave someone a hand job. i wonder if i can still do it.
- i just didn't want this person to come just to have a shag - i need to hang out first. how would i feel afterwards otherwise? probably like a steak. do i want to feel like a steak? no. if you're here for a fuck you better hit the door.
- it's been such a long while that the idea of 'hot' sex feels overwhelming. i feel next time i am with someone i would much more prefer it to be 'nice' and 'cosey' and 'happy'.

for example, i like the idea of winter. it's cold outside and the guy is still in bed. last night was great. it was mellow loving sex. i'm in my underwear and a jumper. i get out of bed, put some thick woolen socks on, and i go to the kitchen make tea. i come back to my room with the teapot and two cups. i put them on the floor, get my book from the window seal, pour some tea in the cups, go back to bed with my tea and my book, kiss my lover on the shoulder, crawl up to him, stay there getting warm for a minute, starting to read my book, falling asleep again. waking up again, being together again, drink more tea, eventually go get some groceries, come back home, watch a movie. fall asleep and restart. winter wonderland.

if i went anywhere and hit it off with someone and things developed like this, it would be awesome. if this happens with someone i know, it would be awesome too. but i guess that's what i want? as opposed to 'we have three hours now, let's fuck and feel miserable afterwards'. i want to find someone with whom i instantly spend ten days non stop because we can't bare the thought of not hanging out together for a day.

i don't want empty sex. just give me love, i'll give you love too.

sweet baby jesus

GHETTO

my new tattoo

donacion de FN (y no front national)

new york these past few days

 very strong look

 new york's phallic conspiration

 weird stuff

 folk art

a bit of green in my life

what do you like best?

my new bikini bottom

or my tits?

HARD WORKIN STONED

It's 9:11 am and I'm already stoned.  STOOOOON, STON, like this

But I'd like to share Virginie Despentes' words:

(ON SISTERHOOD BETWEEN BAD GIRLS)

"To build sisterhood you need to get out of your kitchen, out of your family, out of your love story, you have to be allowed to get outdoors. That's why sisterhood is more a tradition for whores, alcoholics and outcasts. Good girls have husbands, good girls have children, good girls don't need a gang.

One of the most important things that have happened in entertainment in the last 10 years is reality TV and Big Brother. The main message is "Be ready to betray your friend. Be ready to vote against him or her. Be prepared to watch him get expelled and learn not to protest. You're gathered only to get rid of the weakest." This concerns men as well as women: unity, solidarity, collective struggles are for losers."
."

We are right here, right next door to you, come and meet us, we'll love you back.  We the sisters who wear tight skirts and crop shirts.  We read the papers. Steal Vogue magazine from the airport.  Make songs.  We know how to make love, fuck, hold, caress, impress, succeed and serenade because we have orgasms inside and outside.  We was high on acid when you was sniffing coke.  We got flowers in our hair and our middle finger in the air. 


Peace.

sofia and i

london here we come

fre$$$$h

Download Mixtape | Free Mixtapes Provided by DatPiff.com

sunday 12.25am

and i'm in bed. am i smoking too much weed?

SUBVERSIVE PERFORMANCE AND GENDER CLASSIFICATIONS

THIS GUY FUCKIN ROCKS.
<iframe width="640" height="510" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/74Kikg3hnuE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

and... skype again!

new york - paris

again

leclette te amo, la presidente de tu club de fans

i have no messages

and the answer is...

more rivotril?

unexplainable

mixture of feelings of frustration, rebelliousness, explosion, need to be naked. i want to say i feel angry but i don't. it's more complex and mysterious than that. is it just sex (or lack of) related? MENTAL FUCKING TENSION. need to figure shit out ASAP.

la ley del deseo

es la ley de la sustraccion

Amagantauk

boutique camping in Amagansett

including tent lounging

and sun protection

then comes Montauk

and winds of change are coming

and even if we have to battle the storm

the sun will never leave us

also, please meet luisa

FEMMES OF POWER

THE POWER OF THE FRO (in the streets of Paris)

Today I went to a job interview with an afro wig on.

Little did I know that it would be such a thought-provoking experience.  I am mixed race argentinan-brazilian.  My mother is white and my father is black, both from  two white and two black progenitors.  But like many latin-americans, they both have in their genetic patrimonies elements of Aboriginal, Asian, Caucasian and African descent.  Afroindiolatina, that’s how I like to describe myself . It makes me daydream about strong women with big hair in the wind with a baby in one hand and a gun in the other.  Basically I am brown and curveaceous (ye baby) and my hair is straight.

When I dressed up like a secretary to pretend I was a model citizen to go and get a job to pay for my addictions, I couldn’t help but notice my hair wasn’t gonna do it.  Shaved patches in the back, long patches in the front and some green locks in it- maybe I could pull it up in an social worker-esque do ?

Not really.

So I grabbed this  afro wig my cousin gave to me.  Put it on, FUCK YEAH, looks like it belongs there.

Lemme tell you all the implications of wearing an afro wig.  Judith Butler talks about the performative quality of gender[1], and as a woman I know what power of transformation an ensemble of different techniques (make up), practices (shaving) and body modifications (piercings, wigs) can have on one’s (re)presentation in the outside world.

  First of all, go to the nearest PAK’S, Wal-Mart Wigs, or Pozzi and try and find a nice looking afro wig.  You are lucky if you find one.  The reason for this is simple: the whole market of weaves and wigs for afro hair lays on the promise of providing straight, at the most curly or frizzy, manageable hair.  Which brings me to the fact that the Fro’s visibility amongst female populations of black african descent is meager.  Why do sistas do not wanna have afro hair, it’s a whole other problem, but we can talk about it later.

So you’re basically wearing a relique of the 70’s blaxploitation imagery, Pam Grier and Huey P. Newton  going tribal all over your head, but this retro vibe hasn’t quite hit neither the catwalks or the streets yet.  Nobody goes for the fro!  Mental candy for the attention-seeking femme-inist ho that I am.

As I said, the wig looks like it’s my real hair, which is the whole point of it.  I go out dressed with a little black dress, big glasses and my new do. The whole blaxploitation/roots woman thing is broken down by my sober black outfit and the huge Napoleon Dynamite glasses. I feel amazing, it’s like a mask, a new identity that is still to be affirmed and tried out new in the real world. And it’s funny right, because once in the street I realize I've gone from being a dark-skinned white citizen to a light-skinned black one.  And not a dirty hippie or a bamboula, but a working-girl that has a fro.  So a more or less emancipated, wanting-to-fit-into-the sistem black young bio-woman, that chooses to cultivate the bodily manifestations of her genetic inheritance, with an obvious second degree to it. 

I live in Paris, where I am perceived as « exotic » but I can look (or so I’ve been told) like millions of people in Latin-America, South-East Asia, and the Maghreb, depending on what techniques, practices and body modifications I use.  I kindda know what effect they have on people : the latin-american intelectual, the booty-shaker, the white anthropology student.  They all generate different reactions and interactions, and even though my friend Ophélie says she’s never met racism, I can say that race classification is definitely on the plate when it comes to relate to one another. Not in an openly hostile way -luckily I haven’t met those sickos either- but as way of identifying otherness.  Like dogs  meet and smell their asses for a while, so do we humans with accents, general appearance, lexical fields, gender and race.

I jut took the metro there, went to the job interview, took the metro back home.  A bunch of 15 year old black girls laughed at me. A black man asked me where I come from and another gave me  his phone number. At least four middle-aged white men in suits stared at me and quickly gazed away when I met their eyes.  Hobos did not ask me for money.  Generally, there was a certain tension of curiosity  and  -let's call thing by its name- desire in the air.  Without wanting to push it too far, I feel like I somehow embodied the two polarities Eldridge Cleaver defined in The Allegory of Black Eunuchs[2] : "The myth of the strong black woman is the other side of the coin of the myth of the beautiful dumb blonde. The white man turned the white woman into a weak-minded, weak bodied, delicate freak, a sex pot, and placed her on a pedestal; he turned the black woman into a strong self reliant amazon and desposited her in his kitchen...The white man turned himself into the Omnipotent Administrator and established himself in the front office"[3]

That is, in the new cyberdelic era when the insane amount of informations and references we handle, technological and even endocrinological advances let us play with our identities as we speak.  Beware, State, System, Heteronormative Order, there is a on growing mass of us playing with your bipolar standardisation grill, white/black, male/female, natural/artificial, the lines are blurring, and you can't keep the pace.  We are using the same tools you use to control us: Candy (drugs and hormones, legal and illegal) and Porno.  Ok but this is a whole other story. We can talk about it later.

I go, do my job interview, will know about it Friday. I think I got it. 

---

[1] Judith Butler, Gender Trouble, Feminisn and the subversion of identity, Routledge, 1990.

[2] Concept that Germaine Greer reused in The Female Eunuch. « The term eunuchs was used by Eldridge Cleaver to describe blacks. It occurred to me that women were in a somewhat similar position. Blacks had been emancipated from slavery but never given any kind of meaningful freedom, while women were given the vote but denied sexual freedom. In the final analysis, women aren't really free until their libidos are recognized as separate entities. Some of the suffragettes understood this. They could see the connection among the vote, political power, independence and being able to express their sexuality according to their own experience, instead of in reference to a demand by somebody else. But they were regarded as crazy and were virtually crucified. Thinking about them, I suddenly realized, Christ, we've been castrated and that's what it's all about. You see, it's all very well to let a bullock out into the field when you've already cut his balls off, because you know he's not going to do anything. That's exactly what happened to women. »

[3] Eldridge Cleaver, The Allegory of the Black Eunuchs, Soul on Ice, Delta, 1968.

Keisha Fabo for President

HAIRY ARMPIT$

Girl, perleaaaze. They all love it.  Once a boy told me:  I love it because it's like more pussy.  BOOM. Simple as that.

(corny but) as real as it gets.

i am proud we are free spirits; i am proud we are punks (in the heart - looks don't mean anything); i am proud we are young, reckless and beautiful; i am proud of this blog; i am proud of our magic; i am proud we are lovers; i am proud of what we are and what we are becoming.

joe, leclet - i love you from the deeper ends of my body, my mind, and my soul. i am so proud of you.

NO TITLE, NO BURNERS

its been a while again! its been always a while.
loved your post sofia

i was comming back from a little lonely diner in downtown yesterday night. thinking about my day, my trip you knaw? like these momentos when youre feeling good and healthy and air. but sometimes we, the artists or dont know how to call that, we feel cancheros. check for cancheros word in wikipedia or something. so i was feeling canchero w my new jacket from the 80s. got down from the subway king in a kind of a getto style get me? like kurtis blow when he dances
took my marker. walking around, listening to absolute beginner. dont understand what he says at all but hes makes great music. i made a tag in a blue basket and keep going. some noises around, but the night was really peacefull. other little tiny tag in a white wall. and i felt it. like something in my back... when you feel something, its because its real man!!!! listen to that message of the body! thats the real body language! i just kept going. nothing happens. me hago el boludo como dirian.
get the corner an.......BAM! one guy gritando to me in fucking swedish dont understand any fuckin word and said in spanish que mierda te pasa hermano que carajo estas diciendo. and BAM!!! OTHER GUY FROM THE BACK!!
CSG. POLICE ANTI GRAFFITI of stocolm. whaaaaaaaaaat?
FUCK YOU!!! YOU PEOPLE DONT HAVE ANY OTHER THING TO DO W YOUR LIFE??? CHASE A LION OR A SERIAL KILLER, NOT AN ASSWHOLE PAINTING THE STREETS!!!
2 hours on the floor, then 5 at the police station. getting there was like sarah connor in terminator 2. remember? she sleeps in a white room with a bed and socks. and the corridor was soft. ok, this shit was the same but in yellow and mustard colors. i was just with:
- 2 socks
- 1 jean
- 1 t shirt
- 1 boxer
- my earing
- 1 pillow
- 1 manta for the cold
- 1 paper toilet
- 1 glass of plastic
those were the elements that could be grabbed with my hand. the other, was just walls. and a window. and two doors.
done
5 hours
then, free again. its raining. im getting wet. but freedom is something invaluable
2000 koronas of bill (200 euros). fuck off, i will not call that girl from the gobernmente to pay that money. im going off on thursday.
hopefully, today we made our 4th paint of the week with anton.
heres the pic. this saved my day. painting saved my life. if not i would be studying economics, being in military stuff or working at the csg. god saves rebelion and freedom. god saves the rules to break them. thank you lord for the chocolate of the days. thank you glew to be here and made this words possible. thank you babyface and clot to share our merde in this virtual space. thank you. and thanks to the love, for the love of all days.
CSG, FUCK OFF. GET A JOB. OR A CUBET FULL OF BLUE PAINT AND ENJOY A CANVAS OR A SHOWER.
love, love, love again

Hear Me Now

This is my face

and this is a letter i wrote to a good friend.

Dear XXXX:

When in Nowhere we talked about the pill, i felt like I wasn't totally able to tell you why I am so against it.
Hope u don't mind if i tell u a bit more.
We are now, as you know, in the third phase of capitalism: first there was the industrial revolution/slavery, then the Taylorism/Fordism where the middle class appeared, and now we are in what Beatriz Preciado calls the "farmacopornism".
What is this? Its a capitalism that doesn t aim to the trade of tangible production anymore (steel, cars, machinery), but to the trade and production of tertiary goods: information and communication. They have discovered that there is a huge pool of money in the control of our subjectivities. What is our subjectivity? it's a mix of our sexuality and our identity. Our desiring body, that likes or dislikes something without the intervention of Reason or the State.

Since the end of the WWII there was a boom in research in farmacology having to do with sexuality and "behavioural troubles"(from depression to hyperactivity to erectile dysfunction). LSD, DMT, MDMA, Viagra, Methadone, Prozac, Oestradiol, and the Pill amongst thousands of others were all invented in the post WWII-Cold War USA, with the State's money.
What do all these substances do? They provide us the feeling of release, autosatisfaction, omnipotent control, and happiness that we can't find out there. All these tend to organize, name, and therefore castrate our desires.

Tell me, how would the Capitalist Patriarchal Order survive if the care of the babies wasn't ensured by women, that is, for free? That's why they wish to remove in us our male hormones, for example testosterone (a hormone that has to do with vigour, efficacity and authority defiance) which is, as every hormone, present in every body, bio-female, bio male or intersex. Women aren't supposed to be hairy, not because it's "ugly" but because a woman that is hairy is supposed to have more testosterone in her, and she won't be the coy caretaker/servant she is supposed to be to make this shit work.
How do they castrate our "male"? Beauty standards, social acceptance rules, but they are sneakier than that. The Pill (a compound of female hormones such as Oestrogen) is given to us for almost nothing, whereas it's quite expensive and hard to get Testosterone. It makes of us that little unstable uber feminine creature that will then take other substances to counter rest the disturbances she feels, thus giving more money to the Farmacological Industry.
The term "Farmacopornism" goes also to describe the mega sexualisation of pretty much everything nowadays, padded bras for 9 yr olds, etc. The double standard is "Look at this HOT whatever, you know you want it, you desire it. Desire is primal, animal and untamed, so we (white, male, straight, capitalist powers) have nothing to do with you wanting it. You're free, you're in control of your desire" We're supposed to desire freely. But the truth is that they educate our desire, stimulate it in the parts that go to perpetrate the Heteronormative Order, make it taboo, shameful or even illegal in the parts that do not serve the world's economy.

ANYWAY sorry to bore you, it might not be really clear, but i really needed to express myself on that one, and I know you are good ears. There is very clear patent of sexopolitical analysis of the economy that very few people are willing to talk about.
Love
S.

this is IT! kiddie satanism, HELLZYEAH

i need to get it off my chest

it's ten million degrees in nyc (both farenheit and celsius) and i just have all these things i want to shout to the world. i need to shout them, i need the weight of my thoughts off my shoulders. it's crazy, but the heat turns everything into the most animalistic thing you can imagine. it's all about instincts and survival. people want ac and i want ac and sex. that's all that matters these days.

excuse the randomness and disconnections of this post, but i really need to express these thoughts so that i don't waste any more time on them, i need to stop wandering off in my head and i need to focus in the right now (carpe diem, as the Romans would say):
i'm pretty sure the papacito was into me. i'm also pretty sure he didn't tell me he is with someone (even though the status of the relationship might be a bit unclear and volatile). i think he would like to hang out but the situation is actually too complicated. i think he got scared of actually maybe liking me, or maybe scared of me actually liking him. maybe he wasn't such a papacito after all, or maybe sometimes life can be too complicated. it's hard for me to understand with my heart because my life is so carefree (and i love that), but i can grasp it with my head. life is about timing, and patience is a virtue. i don't want or plan to be patient this time. i'm going to be smarter and i'm going to let it go. it's time for me to help myself. not only with this, but in general - avoid problems, my new mantra. am i disappointed? yes. is my life going to be worse because of it? never. and that's cool.

i just feel like saying - to all the things in life that don't go the way i'd like to: you can kiss my lioness ass. better things will come.

vicodin and i really need a shag

it's like 39º out there but i'm on vicodin and it feels really silky smooth. yum.

also, i really need to get laid. i can't think, i can't sleep and i can't exist. it's been 2 months or more and i'm  craving some sweat. if you have any friends you think would suit me, please get in touch.

even more skype time

new york - paris