Sunday, May 31, 2020


Leigh Whannell
Australia, 2020

An ax-shattered
bedroom window
the wall above
still smutted with
soot the wall
beneath still
soiled with
soak and down

on the black
of the pavement
a mattress its ticking
half eaten away
the end where
the head would
have been with
a nauseous bite

burnt away
and beside it
an all at once
meaningless heap
of soiled sodden
clothing one
shoe a jacket
once white

the vain matters
a life gathers
about it symbols
of having once
cried out to itself
who art thou?
then again who
wouldst thou be?

May is World Masturbation Month.

Do your part.

Day 31

Saturday, May 30, 2020


Sydney Pollack
USA, 1965

Sally Potter
UK, 1992

The brain is full of lonely ideas, begging you to make some sense of them, to recognize them as interesting. The lazy brain just files them away in old pigeonholes, like a bureaucrat who wants an easy life. The lively brain picks and chooses and creates new works of art out of ideas.

May is World Masturbation Month.

Do your part.

Day 30

Friday, May 29, 2020


Arthur Hiller
USA, 1970

The concentration camps, by making death itself anonymous (making it impossible to find out whether a prisoner is dead or alive), robbed death of its meaning as the end of a fulfilled life.

In a sense they took away the individual’s own death, proving that henceforth nothing belonged to him and he belonged to no one. His death merely set a seal on the fact that he had never existed.

May is World Masturbation Month.

Do your part.

Day 29

Thursday, May 28, 2020


The New Broadway Cast (2009)

Solarpunk is a future with a human face and dirt behind its ears.

May is World Masturbation Month.

Do your part.

Day 28

Wednesday, May 27, 2020


Black night is falling
The sun is gone to bed
The innocent are dreaming
As you should, sleepy-head
Sleepy-head, sleepy-head:

All the love above
I send into you
Comfort and protection
I’ll watch over you

But don’t ask me
What’s gonna happen next
I know the future
I’d love to lead you the way
Just to make it easier on you

You are gonna have to find out for yourself




There is comfort
Right in the eye
Of the hurricane
Just to make it easier on you

You are gonna have to find out for yourself

All the hurt in the world
You know
There’s nothing I’d love to do more
Than spare you from that burden
It’s gonna be hard

If I only could
Shelter you
From that pain
Just to make it easier on you

You are gonna have to find out for yourself

May is World Masturbation Month.

Do your part.

Day 27

Tuesday, May 26, 2020


Pier Paolo Pasolini
Italy, 1974

Every time you spend money, you’re casting a vote for the kind of world you want.

May is World Masturbation Month.

Do your part.

Day 26

Monday, May 25, 2020


Pier Paolo Pasolini
Italy, 1972

In our society, if we want to insult somebody, we call them “a dreamer.” In ancient societies, that was praise.

May is World Masturbation Month.

Do your part.

Day 25

Sunday, May 24, 2020


Pier Paolo Pasolini
Italy, 1971
“My Father With Cigarette Twelve Years Before The Nazis Could Break His Heart”

I remember the room in which he held
a kitchen match and with his thumbnail
commanded it to flame: a brown sofa,
two easy chairs, one covered with flowers,
a black piano no one ever played half
covered by a long-fringed ornamental scarf
Ray Estrada brought back from Mexico
in 1931. How new the world is, you say.
In that room someone is speaking about money,
asking why it matters, and my father exhales
the blue smoke, and says a million dollars
even in large bills would be impossible.
He’s telling me because, I see now, I’m
the one who asked, for I dream of money,
always coins and bills that run through my hands,
money I find in the corners of unknown rooms
or in metal boxes I dig up in the backyard
flower beds of houses I’ve never seen.
My father rises now and goes to the closet.
It’s as though someone were directing a play
and my father’s part called for him to stand
so that the audience, which must be you,
could see him in white shirt, dark trousers,
held up by suspenders, a sign of the times,
and conclude he is taller than his son
will ever be, and as he dips into his jacket,
you’ll know his role calls for him to exit
by the front door, leaving something
unfinished, the closet light still on,
the cigarette still burning dangerously,
a Yiddish paper folded to the right place
so that a photograph of Hindenburg
in full military regalia swims up
to you out of all the details we lived.
I remember the way the match flared
blue and yellow in the deepening light
of a cool afternoon in early September,
and the sound, part iron, part animal
part music, as the air rushed toward it
out of my mouth, and his intake of breath
through the Lucky Strike, and the smoke
hanging on after the door closed and the play
ran out of acts and actors, and the audience -
which must be you - grew tired of these lives
that finally came to nothing or no more
than the furniture and the cotton drapes
left open so the darkening sky can seem
to have the last word, with half a moon
and a showering of fake stars to say what
the stars always say about the ordinary.
Oh, you’re still here, 60 years later,
you wonder what became of us, why
someone put it in a book, and left
the book open to a page no one reads.
Everything tells you he never came back,
though he did before he didn’t, everything
suggests it was the year Hitler came
to power, the year my grandmother learned
to read English novels and fell in love
with David Copperfield and Oliver Twist
which she read to me seated on a stool
beside my bed until I fell asleep.
Everything tells you this is a preface
to something important, the Second World War,
the news that leaked back from Poland
that the villages were gone. The truth is -
if there is a truth - I remember the room,
I remember the flame, the blue smoke,
how bright and slippery were the secret coins,
how David Copperfield doubted his own name,
how sweet the stars seemed, peeping and blinking,
how close the moon, how utterly silent the piano.

May is World Masturbation Month.

Do your part.

Day 24

Saturday, May 23, 2020


One of my favorite Argentine poets, the great educator Almafuerte (1854-1917), wrote: “To the weak, difficulty is a closed door. To the strong, however, it is a door waiting to be opened.” Difficulties impede the progress of those who are weak. For the strong, however, they are opportunities to open wide the doors to a bright future. Everything is determined by our attitude, by our resolve. Our heart is what matters most.

May is World Masturbation Month.

Do your part.

Day 23

Friday, May 22, 2020


Blake Edwards
USA, 1982
The Unnamable

Not to be able to open my mouth without proclaiming them, and our fellowship, that’s what they imagine they’ll have me reduced to. It’s a poor trick that consists in ramming a set of words down your gullet on the principle that you can’t bring them up without being branded as belonging to their breed. But I’ll fix their gibberish for them. I never understood a word of it in any case, not a word of the stories it spews, like gobbets in a vomit. My inability to absorb, my genius for forgetting, are more than they reckoned with. Dear incomprehension, it’s thanks to you I’ll be myself, in the end. Nothing will remain of all the lies they have gutted me with. And I’ll be myself at last, as a starveling belches his odourless wind, before the bliss of coma.

May is World Masturbation Month.

Do your part.

Day 22

Thursday, May 21, 2020

“In the Temple’s Main Hall”

Down with Buddha! 
Down with handsome, well-fed Buddha! 
What’s he doing up there with that oh so casually 
    elegant wispy beard? 
Next, break down that painted whore of a crossbeam!
A dragon’s head? What use is that, a dragon’s head?
Tear down that temple, drive out the monks,
turn it all into dust and maggots!

Buddha with nothing, that’s real Buddha!
Our foul-mouthed Seoul street-market mother,
    she’s real Buddha!
We’re all of us Buddhabuddhabuddha real!
Living Buddha? One single cigarette, now
there’s real cool Holy buddha!

No, not that either.
For even supposing this world were a piece of cake,
with everyone living it up and living well,
in gorgeous high-class gear, with lots of goods produced
thanks to Korean-American technological collaboration,
each one able to live freely, with no robbing of rights,
Paradise, even!
Paradise, even!
utter Eden unequalled, plastered with jewels, still even then,
day after day people would have to change the world.
Why, of course, in any case,
day after day this world must all be overturned
and renewed to become a newly blooming lotus flower.
And that is Buddha.

Down for sure with those fifteen hundred years
rolling on foolish, rumbling along:
time fast asleep like stagnant water that stinks and stinks.

May is World Masturbation Month.

Do your part.

Day 21

Wednesday, May 20, 2020


Tsai Ming-liang
Taiwan, 2013
Currently Reading

An Integrated Permaculture Approach to Growing Food and Medicinals in Temperate Forests

Ken Mudge and Steve Gabriel
“Commercial Grammar”

For a lot of people, good grammar is like the opera - elitist and snobby. Never mind that opera tickets cost less than the nose-bleeders at almost any sporting event in the country or that the stories in opera are as Everyman as it gets: boy meets girl, boy loses girl. It’s all about perception. And if you say less fat, fewer calories, maybe people get the idea you are pretentious, and if pretentious, unpalatable. This is why so many of us don’t use capital letters when we email - because it looks stuffy. Which would all be fine were it not the case that bad grammar falls into the same category as bad prose writing, which heralds the depredation of our culture and the exaltation of fascism.

May is World Masturbation Month.

Do your part.

Day 20

Tuesday, May 19, 2020

(aka VISAGE)

Tsai Ming-liang
Taiwan | France, 2009

We are certainly influenced by role models, and if we are surrounded by images of beautiful rich people, we will start to think that to be beautiful and rich is very important - just as in the Middle Ages, when people were surrounded by images of religious piety.

May is World Masturbation Month.

Do your part.

Day 19

Monday, May 18, 2020

“Remnants of the Goddess”

Let them come for what’s left:
a chorus of bone, river and soot.
Worthy enough. Holy enough.

Like all the others, singular—or not.
Wanting only for your name to blue
my lips and call it miracle.

Our love double-knotted, saddle-stitched
held the world together. Until it didn’t—
all the words you placed in me flushed
and faltered. From memory, I recited
their worn prattle—cut them clean
with my bite. The jungle we made in blame

grew and grew, fed on our melancholy.
Not even the birds knew to change their songs.

May is World Masturbation Month

Day 18

Sunday, May 17, 2020


Tsai Ming-liang
Taiwan, 2005


There is no articulate resonance. The common problem, I suppose, is to have more to say than vocabulary and syntax can bear. That is why I am hunting in these desiccated streets. The smoke hides the sky’s variety, stains consciousness, covers the holocaust with something safe and insubstantial. It protects from greater flame. It indicates fire, but obscures the source. This is not a useful city. Very little here approaches any eidolon of the beautiful.

- - - - -
ei·do·lon (īˈdōlən/)
  1. an idealized person or thing.
  2. a spectre or phantom.

May is World Masturbation Month

Day 17

Saturday, May 16, 2020

The Washington Post, May 12, 2020

 I have been surprised by the total capitulation to Trump. I never liked the, Well, in private, they say this. I mean, at some point, that is not an excuse; it’s almost meaningless. People’s behavior in public, if you’re a public official, is your behavior. It really came to a head on impeachment, where we fought hard trying to get Republicans to do the right thing and failed entirely, except for Romney. I think that brought home to me, and should have brought home to everyone, that Republican members of Congress should get zero credit for saying things in private that they’re not willing to say in public. At least the true believers believe it, right? I mean, is going along really a more admirable stance? Is being a cynical apparatchik better than being a true believer?


Tsai Ming-liang
Taiwan, 2003

Our humanity rests upon a series of learned behaviors, woven together into patterns that are infinitely fragile and never directly inherited.

May is World Masturbation Month

Day 16

No island is a man
lonely on all four sides
with the door left unknocked

and the bell left unrung,
waiting to be finished
with the wait so heavy

like the non-beat of a
bass drum, silent in its
unrest. The sound

rings steady upon
the unsoliciting shores.

Friday, May 15, 2020

Thursday, May 14, 2020

Wednesday, May 13, 2020

Part of the series 2000 ... As Seen By

Tsai Ming-liang
Taiwan, 1998

Tsai Ming-liang
Taiwan, 1997

The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.

Hannibal Volkoff
From Strawberries - About Parisian Nights

May is World Masturbation Month

Day 13

Tuesday, May 12, 2020


Tsai Ming-liang
Taiwan, 1994
“The Rhetoric of Sex, The Discourse of Desire”

One would almost think that they [straight white males] felt empowered to take anything the society produced, no matter how marginal, and utilize it for their own ends — dare we say “exploit it”? — certainly to take advantage of it as long as it’s around. And could this possibly be an effect of discourse? Perhaps it might even be one we on the margins might reasonably appropriate to our profit … or perhaps some of us already have. 

May is World Masturbation Month

Day 12