Sunday, October 3, 2021

PRETTY HIDEOUSLY VACANT. TOTALLY PARTIAL RECALL of the petty vacant pistols of Sex and their ode to pretty vacant themes that become the tidbits of their insatiable lust for celebrity and fame. An ode to the hoary old punk daze when it was fresh and the anger was so ripe you could pluck it from the energy of the sound. Now sagging and tired, it is resurrected for a moment but not an homage to the rotten but to the Pistols as an iconographic vacancy that was tenable but now so tenuous in modern form. Punk is not dead but it's undergone a transformation into commercial consumer concubine status. Rotten and over-ripe, searching for vacant pretty things to clutch onto for celebrity and non-celibate excess. I think of the emptiness of celebrity and politico alike in my years of experience and this song was part of an algorithm cycle that sprung from the vacant portals of the YouTube vacuum to appear on my channel. The first sentence I had written earlier in this type of vein was highlighted in blue and then deleted by hackers. I tried to retrieve what I had written by memory and instead this above just came out. I have so longed to write in a creative style and thus, as confusing as this is, it feels so much more punk than I have felt in such a long time. I used to write poetry when I also wore punk fashion (unfashionable but subculture fashion). So tired of fascist fashion and pretty vacant fascists of fantastical beasts and other vacancies of imagination and culture (political, celebrity, media and morality all mashed into a mash-up of vacant cultural hideousness so ugly it's just completely petty).

 

Sex Pistols - Pretty Vacant



I need to add at this point that the long paragraph above was a rewrite because the original was highlighted and deleted by the terrorist hackers. My brain is in a muddle due to the technology blasting into my brain (aka mind control) and the keyboard feels like a rusted metal board I must pound down on to get anything to write--my brain under attack, the keyboard under attack, hackers are deleting as I am writing what was what I thought a great kind of poetic sentence. The point really is that I am in a reminiscence mood of and for punk culture that had been but now seems to be a regurgitation. I find only fascists everywhere I go participating in this odious organization. The people I must deal with are pretty hideously vacant and that is bound-up with the politicians who combine the media vacancies of meaning with the celebrities rife with over-ripe verbal and seemingly meaningful petty, noxious bs. Seeming pretty but petty and vacant the vacancies are taken there is no space for meaning even in punk culture. Or is there? I am tired of being constantly surrounded by fascists of all denominations of cultural membership including the faux punk. But, I feel in a punk mood after a long day of listening to music that lulls the senses, is harmonic, and at the end, although it was a joy to listen to all this other more pleasant music I feel punk. But where is punk now? Maybe it was pretty vacant to begin with? Maybe I'm just unfortunately always surrounded by fascists who are pretty vacant but violent who pose as punks and alternatives and compassionate and loyal and loving and humanitarian but are hideously pretty petty and petulant and putrid. So tired of sitting in semi-paralysis day after day. Feel punk wanna dance and be around people who are alive and fun and vital and not sucking out my life and attacking me for aspirations of being promoted into the pretty hideously vacant celebrity/political life of death.

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I've chosen all this other kind of music today while cleaning the stinking filth the terrorist filth has polluted of my clothing/linens/room and unabashed at night, I am just tired of pretending it's all al wonderful day of rain to listen to some good old down Blues

I JUST FEEL PUNK THINKING ABOUT POLITICS because politics has created the filth that I must clean up that isn't mine

Thinking of the good ole show, the product gleaming and shiny but very old coming out next quarter for more dividends of the country divided will it ever be united in it's bipartisan balance with the fascists not in power on both sides of the proverbial "aisle"?

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Years of dealing with this vacancy in American media/political life through dream teleportation nightmares of realization that the reality is a vacant promise with no bottom only tops screwing everything and everyone over as much as they can screw what they consider to be the bottoms for them to dig into every orifice possible to extract as much life force as possible--(it all seems just so S&M but violent vacancy within the volcano underneath the volcano of their minds the real reality is that they want to penetrate all the bottoms' behinds--( ha ha what great punk lyrics what a great set of lyrics for a punk song in dissonance.

Don't want punk to be dead. Resurrection piYour pretty heroes (so you think) are vacant and the vacancies are open for your penetrating media exposure to penetrate into vacancies of pretty vacant.

I feel so punk right now. Want to watch a movie made by real punk directors for a real punk audience, not a fake trying to appeal to the punk (former) viewer audience. Now everyone is just pop-a-go-go like a yo-yo bursting and popping like vacancies of empty meaninglessness.

Here's to the Sex Pistols as an ideological movement ( not as individuals grasping for power and teleporting me--rotten please do not confuse this for adulation! Admiration for past glory now it 's a bit hoary).

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The TWIST, Deary Johnny Rotten, is that at the end of the day, and at the end of this nasty review, is that I revere John Lydon for his contribution to music, to his movement, to his originality, to his punk revolution if you want to call it that (as it truly was) but of course there were other punks before him and after--just feeling closed in, want to go to a real punk concert not a regurgitation of the old days but in millennium dumb form. LOVE YA SEX PISTOLS! MY post I hope is in a punk vein of raging controversial questioning--how would you want it just to be pretty vacant saying "yes it is so great"---? Which it really is, but without the angry piss-party writing I can't express it any other way. So, as we Ameicans would say in a pretty vacant way, "have a nice day".

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Ongoing physical mutilation terrorist report: the slashing under my fingernails and cuticles so that elevated bloodied swelling continues, the fingernails and fingers swollen, cuticles completely severed-off my toes and fingers, in addition to poisons put on my toenails to harden the nails into coarse, hard plastic texture never-growing deformed twisted and blackened. The mechanical arms are constantly going underneath all the layers of protection I wear every night also into my scalp to make hair fall out--falling out in clumps once more so the little bit left on my scalp is mostly gone.//While ugly shitalina the filth torture prostituted Nazi bigot of Whorewood with the German ape scumbag rapist her ally in utter genocidal violence, promoted by Trump and the Nazi 4th Reich and Gotti dynasty mafia with Stallone, et al (gmbh ltd English monarchy ltd) and once the slash under my skin they inject poisons, or foreign substances or materials so the "mind control "terror regime can continue for HOURS upon my waking from hate skits forced into my sleep state while being teleported, while they are slashing into my body and my consciousness is teleported outside of my "prime" body.//Every day dirty ugly shitalina has her rape dirty foul "men" and herself laugh about my breasts while I am getting undressed--the poisons she laughed about having her dirty nazi scum and brown and black and jewish minions pour into my body every day for the past 15 years, with my family, neighbors, and the 4th reich death squads having done this for decades priorr to this filth creep (but her dirty Nazi daddy was involved in this contract out on me back as early as 1974 or 1975, probably 1974 when my step-father the highly skilled poet writer professor was involved with the author of Deliverance in a poets seminar in Atlanta and returned extremely embittered, and he had to change his priorities of writing he then partnered with one of the English terrorists back in 1987, in London when I went there for a summer post graduation of college--and this man is intimately connected to the English royalty as a painter and his wife is the daughter of the director of Deliverance--partnering with dirty shitalina and pit ape pitt for over 15 years but ordering my family's targeting, my poisoning (which did begin before they got their filthy leeching apparatus sucking apparatus onto my life for their endless promotions) I was sent to live across the street from this English bigot back in 1987 in the organized hate structure, and my step-father was also involved in this orchestrated plot for his own promotion. But beyond all the greed and sleaze of this group including my own family, I must state that this ugly dirty whore has looked at least 20 years youjnger while I look 30 years older from the parasitic leeching off my energy, having dirty men rape and beat me as she watches on smiling and laughing along with dirty foul shit ape pig pitt and ther est of the apes and scum of Whorewood and Congress. The joke is that my breasts are not plastic surgery like ugly shitalina's and the jokes are endless after abuse death trheats this German ape endlessly punching my head and face, getting the crap of the Steven Tyler group connected to Stallone's Italian--all with English Italian French and German fascist Nazis rushing to join into collaboration of their take-over of Whorewood with dirty u gly stupid shitalina and pig ape pitt put endlessly into the Oscars every year, as they have been taking turns since their clutching onto my life for this contract back around 2014, taking the tech from Depp and putting Musk into power along with T-rump. The rest is " history" but you all keep silencing this situation so it's more death squad censorship.

  I put compression socks on my hands on top of layers of materials so my hands feel squeezed into crumpled shapes upon waking/. The ape shi...