Everything Gone On With The Wind, Honey Honey Cakes Honey Cakes, As Well As Everything A Genuine WhiTUnderstood About White Supremacy

Content Warning: Rape; depictions of Racism
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Me as A Baddie With A Podcast: 

Why are cops racist? Why would a badge become this in every encounter, racism's encounter. 

Here is a strange thing I realized. Snitching is so successful as a person-to-person engagement with anarchism that even rappers do it. 

When someone goes to jail. That is kind of like, not the moment of law enforcement. 

What do I already know. Law enforcement is racist. 

How did I get to know that with a depth. That it was racist in each and every one of its parts, from a poor design. 

It was systemically racist. 

Snitching is so successful for policing that it nearly every time categorically puts in jail the most critically evil individual guilty of doing the crime the snitch had to snitch about. The systemically guilty individual. 

So we have this knot. Law enforcement is systemically successful. Law enforcement is systemic intelligence.  

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Me as A White Baddie On A Podcast (CAPS LOCK EMOTE):

The systemic intelligence of law enforcement was, like, an AI trained on putting RICO through white gangs, and the results were the institutions and their arrangements to each other becoming nearly automatic at building little cool criminal network webs where the baddest guy mission is annihilated at the moment of the mission unlock.

Here is a picture of an antithetical, a doctor is in a room listening to a psycho, and they find: 

1) the psycho believes in a "tip line". The idea that if they just do this easy thing, that other people don't know about, they'll meet with the thing they want. 

2) the psycho who believes in a "tip line" is, in fact, being taught to always identify themselves as a dishonest individual, someone who wants to have a secret way formed in a partnership with a dishonest individual.

3) and when that tip line becomes a way of being or becoming, was when the psycho became psycho. 

My friend is a therapist and once she told me about a patient that was particularly upsetting. This patient believed that they had a CIA boyfriend. This patient believed unto an epic conspiracy that their boyfriend was. In fact it was just a guy on the phone. It made Alena feel crazy to have met someone that crazy.

Alena's suspicion was that the patient was being sex-trafficked. 

A fourth point, that is difficult to bear, is that the being and or becoming idea becomes fixed when there is an idea of a system. And that is a person who believes there is a gang.

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Me as Tinyletter God, Saying, Go To School N_____r:

Here is the cube of separation from ye, dear reader, of all your suddenly super racist ideas about this: the systemic success of law enforcement is to have become so good at removing the most critical component of a systemic evil reproducing itself throughout time, and this was in parallel with neoliberalization as a historical event, such that the activity of policing became high-class, and it was once the activity as - like - imagine a cube of the thing here - landed at that separation state of high-class - there was a retroactive and total annihilation of it ever in history having to do with black people as law enforcement operatives. Tragically, it was because of the success of removing the most critically evil component of evil systems that the activity became an explosively wealth-generating activity, which is to say that it was precised, which is to say that it was in the eye of neoliberalism, which was a particular economic world historical event running in parallel with a lot of white gangsters training an AI, which  is to say that the precision of law enforcement being successful at something worthwhile, like, something everyone would agree was good, made it this underneath the thumb of precise, which was to essentialize an aspect of neoliberal economic theory as the successful confluence minutes, seconds, hours, days, weeks, months, and years, and decades, and centuries, and worse, all time eternities fractions and fractions and fractions of the seconds of the minutes of the hours of the days of the weeks of the months of the years of the decades of the centuries, and worst, globalized time factiles, the second of a minute, the second of an hour, the second of a day, the second of a week, the second of a month, the second of a year, the second of a decade, the second of a century, and the day of a week, the day of a month, the day of a year, the day of a decade, the day of a century - which was the workers - which was from the previous form of capital arrangement - disassociates - but this is about cops not money - and the confluent precisual emerges, law enforcement, and terrifyingly so, because in fact it was just the accidents of guys annihilating, zeroing, and that had to do with basically just being good at killing people, stealing something from someone in a way was the total description of their activities becoming a high-class one, that the activity of law enforcement was enveloped with class being a counter by the systemic remnants of what they could in fact continuously annihilate without a second charm, had there not become a fixed systemic gang idea weaponized against them, that they killed and then looted the corpses, or that they only killed some and the survivors gave them gifts, or that they seized a position where the gifts were, weapons all meant to envelope, an envelopment that is meant to pacify and resurrect, a total idea, resurrection, the enemy may return thus the enemy was when in fact the enemy is a constant non-existent for a law enforcement officer. 

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Me Still Saying, But Harder, Go To School N_____:

Here is a cube of separation from ye dear reader, of all your suddenly super racist ideas about that: cops don't kill. 

1) however, law enforcement is racist. 

2) especially in the United States.

3) because of zeroing in on individuals

and

4) that has to do with a level of efficiency under capitalism

5) as cops are workers

6) cry 

........................ . 

. . ........................ . . . . . .  ..............

Me Straight.  

7) because

8) if you make law enforcement less efficient you make it capable of targeting groups 

and so

All the money that is poured into making VR headsets for killing bad guys in their operational capacity to be a bad guy, all the data, all the technology, all the guns, all the cars, all the shotguns in the cars, all of that is so the law will not systemically exterminate. The most successful object of making cops less efficient is the thought that the thing on the side of their hip made them kill. The most successful object of making cops more efficient is a gun. The success of the gun-carrying officer includes making that individual incapable of visiting upon a group a systemic extermination by making the officers apparent. It is because 

you:
are:
all:
so:
fucking >.'... ..
dumb
that it had to involve a machine gun. 

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Me Straight Up in Hell Laughing 

Here is something critically hilarious about law. Today there is an alt-right fascist portending democracy. He is the DA of LA. His idea is to make law enforcement less efficient. His idea is to make law enforcement less racist. His hope, with all his chest, saying it, we need to be able to target the groups that systemically harass black communities. 

There is an issue here. History happened. Law enforcement is systemic and thusly, really really really really racist. It exists at the portended exterminations. It exists at the expense of black people as a category. 

There was an issue there, and an issue there, and an issue there. "I gotta get through this!" his words. Not mine. That cop is having to express himself that way because of the aegis of the position. He is white, he is unenveloped, he is trying to make other white people see that it is their fault that he thinks the law is a systemic issue, and he is trying to explain to them that making him think the law has a system is making him confuse law enforcement for a black liberation thing, and that if he confuses it for a black liberation thing, he multiplies the law exactly four times. 

If you multiply the law, if you double the law, if you make it twice as much, and in an instant, and as such have done so with an idea, you are thinking on an order of being and becoming about something that is non-conceptual. 

The law is not conceptual in the slightest. 

The doubling of the law, the tripling because of black consciousness, as though a person because of their skin color had a different order of consciousness, the quadrupling because of that consciousness is awareness of systemic, policing, law enforcement, history, and capital, and that is four orders of making shit up about what is supposed to just be a guy who is wearing a thing on his hip that said officer, four orders of "don't kill", is doing exactly what the black intellectual knows results in murders - too much guilt. 

To simplify, I would say, there is a public idea about gangs being black. There is a public idea about law enforcement under neoliberal reform. 

If 

    I 

       was 

           the

         

              DA

The truth is that a gang is a white person thing. A gang is something that does not exist ever. A person in one might read that sentence and laugh, like, haha, we are secret and thusly uncaught. But the actual encounter with a gang never happens, is something, or results in anything, unless it is a white cultural activity. There are black people who are in gangs, and then there are black people who are in gangs. Saying that the encounter with a gang could happen, be something, or result in anything as a necessary cause of white cultural activity would be to resurrect, give the enemy was and thus is, to fail on the order of removing the most evil thing, if I was in law enforcement. Law enforcement in fact could not have that idea of a cultural activity that was white unless law enforcement was racist. Law enforcement is racist. The history of law enforcement as I have described it is focused on finding its precise, finding its as the confluent precisual, finding its under neoliberal economic reform polict, finding it buried under a billion dollars of wearable murder arts, finding that constantly in the difficulty of being consider me a nazi, and leaving that aside, found. 

There are black people who are in gangs. It is imagined of gangs that are black that there are secrets, separated from you's, a mission of theft, or a liberation ideal. It is imagined of black gangs that there are objectives. That is a white person trying to make a black gang. The "objective" is the non-conceptual that makes of a black community a gangsterism. The objective that makes of a black community a gangsterism is the history of white supremacy in the United States. In fact, being in a gang when you are black is something a white person made up from the start, and that the thing that the gang is was a lot of brown people there too, and that some of them from a distance - to a law that enforces in the United States under an increasing efficiency idea - looked white - and perhaps yellow is something - and altogether the point was everyone in a community is in multiple communities is something that the most racist motherfucker you ever could imagine, the systemic himselfly racist knew. And that was police in the 70s, as far as I can tell. 

Then there are black people who are in gangs. By the 90s, the study of systems has resulted in a double-consciousness. The black community is systemically annihilated. There is fourth-point level of depth there, between the law enforcement and the law enforcement and the law enforcement and the law enforcement and read that back. I am in 2014 looking at that hearing it as the fires. We are in 2025 incapable of leaving 2014, if you went to Chapman University. I am still in 2014, and I am looking for some soldier metaphor, I am fetishizing, I am all the way thinking there's someone with the secret, the separate me from the others, the gift of the mission of seize, and a freedom, and I am making it on the most vulgar contortion of humanity I ever could, a 700 year old idea, the Moor. Othello. 

Then there are black people who are in gangs. People who are not white, the blacks. Which, for the browns and the yellows, regrettably, includes them. These are the people who are in gangs. But there is an inter-community violence. The black people who are in gangs, all these non-whites, are trying to make the darkest person in the gang become the black person of the gang, forming it on exactly the same shape as I am but without vulgar contortions of sex and desire and body and mind, that is to say, they are actually successfully doing something vulgarly sexually torturously to someone's mind and body. Which is to say, do not cry - scream and open your wrists instead - the less dark skin black people in this are putting 16 orders of consciousness through the darkest skinned persons, because the less dark skin black people are doing it law enforcement x law enforcement x law enforcement x law enforcement, and the current DA is getting that exact amount right upside the head in the same amount, because of what he already knew, and what, you, dear reader, now know about that is to multiply the law enforcement AI by how many decades past the neoliberal economic reform complications of the 60s, the 60s which were I should add in fact just a button clicked by the 70s after the fact about when a neoliberal economic reformation occurred, meanwhile the neoliberal economic never yet has occurred, because law enforcement is still hunting a cracker in a complete field of un-whiteness, still hunting a cracker in a complete field, still hunting a cracker, still hunting, is, in that, without hunting, because, again, officially. 

It is the "official", a quality of law enforcement, that makes the 16 times the amount of consciousness merely four in 2025 for the District Attorney Nathan J. Hochman. 

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Why is this happening. Because we think gangs are police. If the DA was me, I would just say, there is a public idea about black people being in gangs. Period. There is a public idea about neoliberal economic reform of law enforcement. Period. Because some asshole puts it "there is a public idea about black people being in a gang and there is a public idea about neoliberal economic reform of law enforcement", it becomes a fiscal idea, and thusly, it becomes trafficked in. 

There are guns in LA. That is a huge problem. These guns rarely are discharged. They are in houses. They are out there. There are somewhere. They are possessed. But they are not discharged. So they categorically are ceremonial. They are bequeathing an official-ness to people who would target groups for a systemic extermination. These people are, without a doubt, in possession of the future ID tags of a nazi. These people are, without a doubt, white. 

I found this out on my own, by identifying someone who regularly stole cars in a gang. The ceremonial artifact of him bequeathed the duty of car theft was "I have a gun."  

If you lived in LA and knew someone with a gun, they are a psycho. How they became a psycho is terrifying to consider. Just add after that previous schema of the psycho, after the tip line thought in the schema as described, a person who would constantly need to affix that there was, indeed, a tip line, by making the religiosity, that a gang existed, an actual thing on earth. He is white because he is doing it to, in his mind, some n-word. In reality, he is literally white and doing that to anyone. 

The Anatomy of White Supremacy

How so?

He makes a mistake. He thinks he's the best one. The best human. The only human. Or. That there's some lesser humans somewhere, and that they cannot ever be apart of his inner world. He has a violent ego. His violent ego is to do that self-violence, that there are lesser people somewhere that cannot ever be apart of this inner world. He wants that mistake to be a permanent feature of his life. He wants to have made his life up on that mistake. He wants to have gotten his life made up on a secret teaching. He wants his life to have been made up. The mistake of his violent ego reproduces itself when it becomes apparent, he has marked himself in the eyes of all those people he sold out. That the offer to do something was made by all of those people because they had already identified his violent ego, and the way the way that they found that out, we must by needs exclude the minimal, and hope forwardly, because of course, this was conducted with a science - he had already hurt someone physically. It is evident, and I can prove it. The violent ego is there in the bruises. Or. A bruise is easily concealed. The violent ego is there in the broken bone then. Or a broken bone is exactly the kind of humiliating maiming internal injury constant that takes someone not only out of their ability to help themselves but is so ultimately traumatic that the individual with the injury is likely to need to lie about where the wound came from, and that that would be the first evidence in a categorization.

The man who does that to someone finds out that he has been tricked. He cannot acknowledge it. He is given the same broken bone humiliating maiming internal injury constant that takes someone not only out of their ability to help themselves but that is so ultimately traumatic that he is in that wound about having to lie as well, the shunt in the thought, the not-thought, the internal stop, here in its meaning from music, like if a person had a button that could be clicked - popped. None. I should add, he is not harmed. His arm is not broken. The wound, from the community, still, is exact. The psychological trauma is precise, and the limiting of his ability to act is also precise. The wounds, because they involve justice, are teachings, and as such the physical trauma, the limiting of his ability to act, as it is separated from the psychological trauma, creates a peace that is his ability to still act. 

I should note that what was here explicated with an example from a broken bone is toward essentializing something. The crime would be rape.

The guy I am imagining here, the guy who has a gun in Los Angeles, doesn't stop, however. He makes the same mistake. And this time he does something well and truly beyond insane. He tries to make up a way of systemically doing what was done to him by others so that he would learn how to check his ego a system that he is in control of. Because there is no system, and there is no gang, and the way the thing was done to him invites no culpable individuals in fact - as it is known that had the trauma been something otherwise generated than in a private realization, there would have been a physical wound and a psychological trauma wound were there could be no pedagogy, when the psychological trauma is simultaneous with the physical wounding - and in this case the necessity of the privately realized wound explicates that there is no one else around for him to imagine as the cause of the wound - the gang is not there - there is no systemic aspect of being told there is a secret tip - there never was a secret tip is what he realizes, and for the violently egotistical if the realization is merely of him being mocked there is no successful wounding, and so for the violently egotistical the realization if it was to have successfully kept him from trying to make up a gang must then have involved an annihilation of his ability to think of the person he harmed. And there is no justification. And there is no system. There is just his guilt and the commitment to the same mistake, and the commitment to his original choice, to have believed he got a secret teaching about himself. 

The guy I am imagining here, the guy who has a gun in Los Angeles, cannot deal with the annihilation of his ability to think of the person he harmed except as a joke. Because this is 2023. 

That is fucking terrifying.

Because the guy actually does have his ability to think of the person he harmed annihilated - and he still doesn't stop imagining that person - and so that person he harmed becomes this essential targeting reticule for transforming anyone and everything into a systemic justification for the tip line that lied him into his wounding, what would be, in the end, just a humiliation on the order of that person he did that thing to, it is instead discovered, doing that thing he did to that person but to him and in a way that would be temporalized. And so another important detail about this guy emerges: he cannot be persuaded by a humiliation, which is just when you feel bad about something that happened before. He basically cannot imagine a situation where he has to immediately apologize. And the guy starts to sound like this, he starts to say things like, basically that guy I did that to cannot imagine a situation where he would have to immediately apologize, and the fact of the matter was, again, he was guilty. He did - in fact - physically do something to that person before. And because this is 2023 he doesn't stop there. 

The thing the guy starts doing involves an object that would be difficult to temporalize. He is using a phone. 

The thing that was supposed to be the rape victim's justice - "she fucked you over *before*" - becomes a tool for him. 

Everything the guy says is perfect. The only difference is that he is trying to punish a thing he is making up as existing, a gang, from a difficulty of temporalization that makes every aspect of his being psychologically traumatized and physically traumatized for having been a rapist ignorable by him and effectively a weapon he is wielding against an idea of a group - and from there that group is just any random group of people he could blame for psychologically fucking him over, an amount of random people he could blame having existentially fucked him over, and it never had anything to do with being on anyone's side 

F

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V

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R

(pause)

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I should like to remind you, the guy is a white guy. He is in a white gang. A black gang is just a black community, and in fact that community is just a portion of a Los Angeles community that is not entirely black but is also brown and white and gay and et ceteral. But there is a creepy GTA idea about gangs and race where every race has a special gang about them that should be addressed here, the white gang and the black gang are rubbing shoulders all the time. The cop is antiracial is not really important. The white gangster criminal community is your alt-race fascist in government. It's one thing to defend an idiot online, it's another thing to meet him and then get fucked over by him.

The black guy with a gun is being confused for being what is literally only ever a white guy - again - a literal fucking white guy only ever was this - a gang member as described above. The black guy with a gun is being confused for this by a lot of brown guys, and the white people on the sidelines trying to find out what happens in LA from a newswire are the ones making that black guy with a gun - of a gang: a member. What those white people are doing is making that black guy into a white guy, and a lot of those people that are doing that are confusable for a lot of Hispanics, and a lot of those are confusing themselves for a lot of those white guys because the Hispanics are supposed to give the idiot the gun that is his chose poorly moment in the Indiana Jones Holy Grail moment minute, and some of those Hispanics are feeling nervous about did I make a white guy when I did that, and some of those Hispanics are feeling nervous like am I in a white gang now, and some of those Hispanics are a lot of you, dreary reader, realizing that the whole system is fucked from the start b

  e

c

a

us

e

o

 f

a phone. Hers. 

A white lady wrote this. You didn't have to get rid of gangs to get rid of gangs. The introduction of smart phones to daily living already does that. But the culture of gangs exists. Or the DA is trying to have a thought about apolitical culture in the first degree and we keep telling him there's a black culture of politics he had to know in the first degree, and that that is making him have the multiple daily confusions that the asshole who rapes the white ladies who could write this by hand every day in raped-me-documents central, Stanley Mosk courthouse legal twit, which is when you fuck up a courtly order so that a legalist's aid can be given evidence of how to chain kill a command structure of legalized rape units. Which is to have admitted into this discussion the most upsetting final aspect of that white guy, why he cannot be humiliated is because he is in a gang of people that are white. 

In LA, there is an atmosphere. It belongs to cinema. It probably has something to do with the beach. That atmosphere is like an eerie. Did that happen...? This is basically the thing that is the mutilating substance in a black guy in a gang with a gun, what is really and truly torturous to imagine, the bright light solar array aspect of that substance of that black guy in a gang with a gun being mutilated, that  that is towards a swastika, and "the did that happen...?" is what it all had to do with something that happened in 2016, which is where I got the other half of my brain from, Rose McGowan's. And then I met a guy who tried to convince me that we needed to have some kind of mystical background empirical essential for when to know when a rape occurred, when the most obvious aspect of knowing when a rape occurred was when a woman says one occurred. And the grave difficulty, the grave honor, marching through the maybe there's some thing in the middle that makes it complicated, that was something about having to imagine the sex that was had, which was to have to pause there, which for me was to have never wake up out of there, which for me was to have had to die a lot, which for me was to have had to transition first, which for me was to have to admit I was seeking that white guy with a gun's mystical background empirical essential for when to know when a rape occurred because I felt guilty, and so guilty I missed the actual point Rose makes about rape, that the important thing is you just have to be okay with you can be accused at any point, justly or unjustly, from just if I don't like you today, otherwise what would that imply? 

The guy with the gun who is laughing at the girls he rapes is a white guy, and he is able to be identified as the guy he is based on if he is somehow able to say everything perfect sounding while a smart phone exists, is somehow always fucking younger people than himself, when it is known, he has an amount of resources that younger person could never imagine, on an order of magnitude that makes the encounter categorically disgusting and tragic, just think of a girl who was living with her parents that got fucked by that guy. A millionaire with a gun who is sounding perfect online is someone who is just coming up with an entire method.

And I would like everyone who ever liked me to remember that the creepiest aspect of that loser is something that is only recoverable to them once they remember the perspective of a particular peer, the liberal, the perfect woke opinion haver, the perfect opinion haver, the opinion haver, the peer who is sounding perfect online and that is in fact from never once ever having had a million dollars or a gun in this state, of writing, that is just writing, I sound like a million and there is a gun somewhere, the just some loser at a casting agency working a desk job, the just some loser in a newsroom that is a desk in his house, the just some loser Alena the therapist, what they all knew about the situation from just being cool - you didn't even need to know that white guy was white or had a gun to know that he was that evil, literally raping girls, literally laughing about it, literally nauseatingly trying to punish a thought about a god, a god that he had made out of an idea of a group of people not luckier than him, you just had to remember how fucking creepy it is when a 49 year old with a million dollars in a lot of different places is hitting on a 29 year old. 

You don't have to go all the way. But you can see there is a resistance to the critical intervention. You can just go off of what was declared by Rose McGowan to be the thing, the thing you knew the thing was always about. 

If anything, the guy who is doing that perfect lie about everything online space, creating, in fact, because how the fuck could anything sound perfect online, when the fuck is anything occurring, just stop right there, my eye is my hand and my mouth is a keyboard lately and yesterday it was in my ear, none of it could sound perfect unless you were perfect. Which is categorically creepy about the purported public address of this guy who is white, has a gun, rapes girls, laughs about it, is humiliated for it, was identified as having a split personality,  and all he is saying is one thing - I should be allowed! - like, who would believe that? 

I propose a new natural alchemy. The environment. If you had the profound displeasure to have met this guy and you were the perfect loser, you would have discovered in that case that he was a useless old man from his opinions about climate change. Because of what it would take for the liberal to be in the same room with this guy, who, again, is white, has a gun, rapes girls, laughs about it, gets humiliated for it, cannot be humiliated for it, because what? He is a gang. Oh! He is in one. But wait, why does he exist still? He exists still because he snitches. Law enforcement uses this guys information to, basically, nuke a crime lord in another continent with a near instantaneity, instead of prosecuting him. Orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. 

Remot Detonate This Grafeme

Is it possible that the joke played at his expense is an endless one, and that the police have a timed feature as a feature of their relationship to capitalism, and that that timed feature involves concretely imagining how to proceed with an investigation that takes a long time, and that the skill the police have is making use of every piece of the animal that is the former human at the center of whatever empty field they made of themselves, and that the terror scope of law enforcement, to have actually become directly involved with terrorism, is not quite to have stretched the labor of the activity across the border or abroad, but to have stratigraphically introduced the uppermost half of all the VR, machine guns, blacksites, and et cetera you could not even imagine, the scary closet of the armory of the police, the scariest closet of the armory of the law, the armory of the law that is still the one with the instantaneity annihilation you do not exist ever, and that that is here to have effectively quintupled the budget of the law enforcement in Los Angeles, which would be to have made law enforcement in Los Angeles suddenly and instantly five times more, which would have been to have done something so massive so suddenly, which would have been to have done something that had to became a feature of capitalism, because of how massive and how sudden a massively explosively wealth-generating event was generated without recourse. 

Earn

I mean. It works because of your face. My face is different. My voice is different. Forty minutes ago. Okay. Let's try this again. There is that thing. I'm gonna turn your head around. About. A writer. Telling that writer something about itself. That it could never cognize. Supplying the writer a ultra demonic. This writer is looking in to three four five. I already tried this once. The bare amount of mark to make symbol. How many different could there be. Results in nine. That was another thing. This small point here. I wish I didn't remember. This point here. Why should I be remembering actual quotes of the writer while I am trying to explain something about how that writer was being placed into something that would double and quicken him. Ruining him. Because of a violation ideal. That you could just do better by doing the worst. In the second three word encounter I deliver to you the points. Soaking. Why did I practice that? I needed something for you. Over here. This is playing. I don't want to be doing this. But I'm not going to stop because I have to see what this had to do with transforming a writer into a violation pit. The fawn is the second thing. The boys hoping that what made this appropriate for me was that I didn't like I basically was just writing their votes on what how was. Cast and crew. Who? Fourth finger. So if you're looking at your own hand and you're trying to handle yourself if you crunch these fingers there is a recollection hope. An insult which increases. A speech that increases. I wish that this was that long. I'm gonna cut it off in the middle. We're gonna put them in a poem. We're gonna run it on the tiger. So we can hit that all that anime was bad for one fucking reason. I had to swallow my spit when I said that because I felt a little disgusted. Sleep. Grief. Doom sucks. It's not a good band. Maybe try Grief. Supplying a writer criticism. Is. Pointed. Cutting in. Look at the mirror. Why did Borges think that the finer. Was insulting. Why should. Lemmy Killmeister have to raise his hand like a little schoolboy. Slower. Each word. He'll. Return. This lazed. Horror. Who gives a shit. Bad men who want to make it to sixty one.  Afraid for how they knew they were going to make it to 89 if they could just convince an Indian princess that they were worthy. Of what they knew about their life. A hundred. Someone I actually respect in the punk scene. Someone who've had. Involved themselves in. Multiple. And. Had a good answer to why the LA punk scene sucks. Let's just light shit on fire. Let's burn the spot out every time. Every does a shitty little stupid stunt. Dumber than this was me trying to imagine that anyone who had. Access. Wave links. To. My pain. Boredom. Sleep. Why have you been selected for these things. Protagonist? Or is the writer. In this case. Savoring. Ruining. A neat box. Wed me. Why is it. When I start to. Say something true about my life. Half of you. Wish. Wish less. What I remember about. All of you. Pieces of shit. I fucking hate you. I fucking hate you. I fucking hate you. All of you. You are children. Like that was the fucking ultimate hostility that any human could receive. Me. Talking to. First graders. Because they needed to be smarter than. A second grader. The back end. Of a pencil. Like how gay do you want this. Like just. Think. Sweaty forehead. Think. What I said. About. The options available. Ya'll are getting the beauteous. Half of this is me speaking to you like. Adulthood encountered. Your livestock. The other half is. Your drinking. Milk. I'm not okay with you? Don't. Say. What you were fucking saying. The amount of frustration. I hope to. Receive. From. You. Motherfuckers. Cannot. Be as much as Is. Because just look at mom. Mm-mm. Just look at mm-mm-mm. What grade was it. Look at first grade. And see. I am gonna tell you. The whole story. In two minutes. Organically. Your little eyebrow thing. Is potent. Punishingly. Your observation. Is homing. On. Is anything occurring. Interestingly enough. Don't ever forget that. Oh. Me don't ever forget that? What thing. Will I remember. How can I possibly remember it. When all of you fucking idiots are. Fucking. Beating off on. Articles. Aspects. Of my own self. What answer do you fucking want from me? You want it. You want it. Whaa. It was always going to be this? Yeah. Get with it. You weren't fucking problems. Is that something you wanted to have happen happened? Yeah. Do you wanna meet David Milch? Do you wanna meet David Lindelof? Do you wanna meet Alan Moore? Did you want to meet Zak Smith? Did you want to meet. Fucking. Five whores from the punk scene. Did you want to meet. Nine hundred of them in Chinese. Did you want to meet. Kristen Stewarts'? Did you want to meet. Emmy Rossum? Did you want to meet. Some white girl? Did you want to meet. An American? Ugh. No. That's violating. That's violating. That's. Too much. A spy. What is a job? What is a job. One is. Your ears are going to stop working. Because. You. Met. Me. I'm gonna turn them into. Little fucking. Oh no. Car parts. And I'm gonna squeeze them into one fucking good moment. A movie. That was worth making. And you'll never be allowed to be that fucking dumb. See this. See this. Do you know what this hand is? This hand is. Please. Sleep soundly. Sleep. Safely. What the fuck. What. What. What. Why. Do you do that. 

How did this occur. What was the first problem. Marita. Told me. Something. Yeah honey. Just. Whatever. Fucking. Random. Hot person you could think of. That's exactly what I'm like. Yeah. I have purple hair. And a. Fucking. Bridge. Piercing. I didn't have a face tattoo but I was. Bitch. Yeah I didn't have a. I didn't have a single fucking hair on the top of my head. And she was telling me. Yeah. But you're like. Timothee Chalamet. Why? Is that important. In this. Speech. Act. That's how far away from myself. I. I. I almost got back in. But then I had to check. Can he do that. Why shouldn't he be able to do that. He's not. A satanist. He doesn't. Have. The thing. That I fucking said. To. All of you. That's a boy get it out. This man. Does not have. The punishment. That we have. As. What should we like to surface about gender? A woman was some kind of. Artifice. And the man was. That's like historical materialism. The mirror. What do you. Do you resent that men have like. What? Resent them enough that you. Pour the little bucket. On your wrist. Killing. I am that upset right now. But I'm showing you guys. The exact. Amount. Of. Screechitude. Ya'll had. Before. You ever met me. How much. You. Wished. You wished. Something as interesting as this could've happened. I own your fucking lives. I am a worthy. Answer to. Did. David. Milch. Want to meet Shakespeare when he was spitting? Look. You saw the other thing. I don't wanna keep fucking supplying. Little. Answers. To the question. Why am I here. Why did I get all that. Why was it an always thing is the thing that isn't a special little medical thing for me to understand why this is happening. Good. Good. Reveal yourself. Listen to what I am saying. Don't try to see inside me. There. Is. No. Inside. There is just the fucking thing I'm saying at you. I. Fucking. Hate you. Oh my god. You wished it was the mirror. I'm talking to. The people who. I know. If you guys try to supply that I saw inside you and I knew something like this. You're going to sound like a fucking idiot in front of me. Because the thing is. Like. Adjacent to writing. There is a Fmegaphone. And the F in front of it is. He. Is. Fucking. Horny. I can't be on set with you people. Do you? Like. What could be. Less. Arousing. Then. Being. Punished. Like. This. Like you literally can't hear what I am saying to you? Riddle me. Nothing. Open your shower. That's something I'm not supposed to do. Because that's the thing. That says. There's. It's not about. Mm. That's about. Like. If I wanted to do it. By. Hand. But. If there's a guy there with the hand maybe he'll just. Walk out. If a dream girl is sitting there and she goes. That is me because a motherfucker. Is. Terrorizing her. Which. Is upsetting for women to hear? Why would that be true. What the fuck are you a victim of. Oh you have to scream. To feel. Attractive. I'm. Screaming. At you. Because I fucking need you to. Hear. Me. I hate you. I hate you. I. Er. N-n-n-n-n-n-n. Forget. Nonono. Right. You're like. Waitaminute. But you n-n-n-n-no. Oh nonono.  I used to like it? Nononononononononononono. You walked all the way into the out room. Walk into the. Where I put you room. I hate you. I'm a doooooor to all of them. I'm a dooooor. Out of. LA. You guys didn't want to meet. A director. That was your age. It's as simple as. Here's all the unhoused people. Here's all the punks. Here's all the porn. Can you focus on. The addressed. Close the door. Walk out into that how long does it take for her to forgive. Nope. Come back. Come back. Come back. Sit right there in the picture. Do not. Drop me into. A feeling. I'm gonna drop you. All the way into this feeling. You. Jumped. Into. This. You. Wanted. See this is. This is disgusting. This is disgusting. You. Are forcing me. To have to. Riddle out something. Ambiguous. Love. When. I was raising my voice to say one fucking thing to you. You were raising your voice so that someone would give you a kiss. I'm telling you. I fucking hate you. Get out. Close this. Close this. Know how to do that. Are you seeing that? Because there's a uh. Production. Office. Yeah. Go into that production office. And stay there. You're a PA. Timothee. You're a fucking PA. You're looking at. You're just looking at. A director who's as young as you. That's all it is. That's all it is. And what do you have for them? Whatthefuck. I can't even have a fucking thought. With the. Fucking. Idiots. Around me. See that? I know what you're doing you piece of shit. I know. When. You. Are. Protesting. The rule is. Did I like you today. And did you do what I fucking said to you. Be a production assistant. How little I can love someone. Is. Fascinating to me. You're a little. King. Timothee. You're gonna be so strong. When you give that. One woman. One thing. She never asked for. A house. Because she's a. Escort. And you are. Seventy years old. Thirty years past. Anyone? Anyone? 15 of them. You rapist? I. Told. You. Your. Fate. Before you ever met me. You got to meet. Five. Of the. Hottest actresses. The most. Talented ones. You were placed into a beautiful moment of. They'll know each other. And a fawn. Is. The. Work. Of. Unsettling. Which. Male. Actor. Is. Woman. Enough. To be among those people. Am I fucking joke to you? Hm. So he's a yeller. Do you think I'm a yeller? Do you know the kind of person this is? I wanted to remember. What was the failure. Value. Those women. What were you gonna do for them? You were going to. Make them. Incapable. You were a child. You didn't pay attention to. Any. Of your. Privilege. You could've been building productions for your friends. And all you were thinking about was how am I gonna fuck them. But the real answer is. Build them up. Into productions. And see what they think about it. Fuck them. Hard. If they supply. The proper answer to. How. Fucking. Annoying. It. Is. That they introduced this. Not that. Well okay. Did you let the angry boy on set? Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm. Did you let the special little king boy on set so that you could sell a movie? Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm. Second thing is sort of. First thing. Right? What he. Could've done. And what he failed to do. Is evidence. Of such. A. Furiosity. A low. Low low low low low. I would. Special little boy king. Special little boy king. Oo I wish I got on the tower that sounds kinda good. What's in the tower. Is you're a rapist. Chasing escorts. Who are starving. Literally the unhoused. You fucking. Buy them a room. And chase them around hallways. Because you can't. Get. An. Orgasm. He accepted that. He didn't accept the walk out of the room. He accepted. The. And it's not because he was innocent. It's not because he made a. Little mistake. It's not because he didn't know about like. What's in the big. Idea. His. Problem. Was. He was failing before. Epically. Kylie. Jenner. Puts him. In a capacity. And when. I told him. Don't look in. He wanted to build himself a kill chain of Kylies. The invisible Kylies. Just find me all the kinds of Kylies that there could be. I'm gonna say that it's an accident. We're not talking about that. In the building. Excuse me? In the building. Running them around. Right. Was that a missile? Or was it quite exactly. A danger. And why did I put him in there. H - no - how did I put him in there? No. Why did I put him in there. One. Two. Three. How do you guys feel about how I handled that? I was too. Excited? About what I did? I just. I don't know how to get to you guys with. What. Is in this. Stop. Looking. Inside. Listen. We are talking about. Surfaces. Artifice. We're talking about. The. Fucking. Presented. We're. In corporations of scientific. Are you guys so. Like. Out of it? That you cannot. See. That this is what someone looks like when they are about to. Fucking. End your life. Nonono. It's a. It's a. Combination of I'm trying to. Save. Your. Life. Walk. Away. From the beams. I think it's funny. Okay. So. Let me. Like. Reintroduce. What was not funny about this. And what was. Prove. Please remember. When I describe this thing to you. I did not. Tell it to you. So you could be. Beholden to me. I didn't tell it to you like. I'm gonna see you later. I told it to you because it was the right thing to do. What's. What's in this head right now? Please see what was in. What was in this hand. What was in this hand. What was in this hand. And then what was also in the head. And then what was in this. Which part should we focus on? Listen. Dear ladies. I'm so. Grateful. I ended this on this note. Look at this and see what it is. And then also. You know what. Just. Stop. Looking. Stop looking. Just. See this. Respond to this. If you. Thought. That. My face doing this. Involved. Can I also get Saorise to propose to me. That's a thought she's having. At that point. It's okay to feel that way. It's also. Please. Please please please please please please  control yourself. Please. Like. Adjust to. Physical reality. You are as disconnected. From. Facial. Expressions. And what they mean emotionally. As you are. From. Your very bodily selves. In these conversations. Someone is holding me into this. I'm all the way out there. And I'm just this little. Half. Thing. What can you guys do to help me get to myself. What. Feeling. Can you have about me. That the half of me that is. The fulfillment of me. Returns. Is it the forehead thingy? Is it the sweat? I'm ignoring you. Why won't you guys fix what you broke. Why are you fools. Why is my expression that. You guys. Can't walk out of this room. When you do something like that to me. Should I tell you. It's not a bad answer. But it does make you sound like a Qanon person. So. Try. Right. Don't. Don't. Don't do any kind of. Want to fuck it. Because that's gross. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. It's the same thing. Sort of feel like we're making one of them. Do all the work. I feel like. Covenously. Say that online. No okay. Why. Why. Can't that person stop doing that. Okay. How do we prevent that person from doing that. There's these. I'm afraid to lose everything. Nope. That puts me all the way there. That's not a technique. That's not a good technique. You shouldn't have to feel miserable. To make art. Thank youuuu. Thanking you. Bright. Is the confusion. What's the confusion. Is it. Is it the. Timmy's saying it because he's trying to be hot? Whereas my thing is. Ah. Damn. We like. I feel like. Wha-uh-uh. Is the. Is the thing? Okay. Here's what I felt. No shit. And then. After I was like oh this sounded. And I was like. Let's. Work. Which is. Truly. The gayest. Lamest. Fucking. Most loathsome thing I could think of is to be like. Yes. Let's all like. I love the. I love the wet. Why. Did that happen. Because you guys. Were. Ideating. I don't love her. How does one. Remain in love with me. Get it to stop talking? No. Only one. Only one. Has that. You're a child. No. You're a writer. You. Dumped. Me. You. Basically if you don't want it to be like consecrated into eternity. I will just. Introduce. Myself. I don't care about making movies. I only care about. Did I do enough for ya'll to like me. I don't wanna introduce the. Utterly satanic. None of us never needed to have sex ever again. But we did need to come up with like. Little torturous games of. How do we like. Involve our hearts. In all the different manifold ways of having them break apart. Well. If. You jump into that. You're playing around to much. She's way too volk-y. Sorry. Uh-uh-uh-uh. A human. Sorry I just. Had to save myself by thinking I wasn't talking about all of you. I was talking about. Just one of you. I was talking about Saorise Ronan. And you guys do the same shit. You do the same shit. You do not allow me to remember things. You. Pulled it away from me. And I hope you feel that. If you allowed me to have a thought. I would fail. Is what I. Hope. I hope for. Please. Because then I could actually do a good job. See. No. Right. If I fix nose. It looks stupid if you smile. But if I keep my little butt nose. You know it's so ugly it could only have been the original. I'm not thinking of a name. But I'm gonna sink that. I'm not. It's not you. It's not a man. It's not a girl. It's not a boy thing. It's. My own face. You wouldn't let me say it. Reveal yourself. Reveal yourself. Reveal yourself. Long time coming. I'm going to fucking kill you. Isn't. Isn't true. Because that's something. An overworld construct will do for you. I feel like we're allowed to be mean to each other. Is some. Really. Idiot. Version. Of what gender involves. Okay so I feel like. I'm just trying to. Affect. The truth. Saorise. Hell no. Florence Pugh. You're. Almost. Almost. Tough enough. Emma Stone gets me. Meghan the Stallion actually did something for me that I deeply needed. Anya. Is. Breaking my heart. She's not attracted to me. And I'm in some bullshit system where. She has to think about me. Even if she doesn't want to. Greta Gerwig doesn't want to walk into this room. Dan Harmon and I. Would've been great together. If we could have had a totally. Appropriate. Supposedly. Inappropriate. Dialogue. In production. David Simon. Bought these. David. Milch. Will. Stop. Zak Smith. Is a black hole. And I will not see him. For five fucking years at this rate. He's doing a better job. Just seeeeeee. The black woman of me. Flying away. Listen. Precision. Involves. Greediness. The. Focus. I wanna have a. Three. No. I want to scour the bottom. Of this. Idea. So I'm seeking. To remember. The truth. Kristin Stewart. Is someone I do not respect enough. As someone. Who is a challenger. To the woman I actually want to marry. Someone who. Hurt. Them. Deeply. In a soft way. That get's worse. But they are. Also someone. Who not even I could believe. How dumb. How dumb. I sound in front of them. And that's. A wizard. Hoping. That the. Scrape. Of the bottom of the bucket. Caught. What I meant when I said. The black of me. Sh. Does that mean it's working. Oh my goodness does it mean it's working. Wasn't that okay no. Because. Because. I got five more minutes on this for free. Why. Why. Because. Now we're just going to relax. And all of you are going to. Focus your attention on the. Aspects of me. That are the important aspects that's good. Intensity. Yes. Also. Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm. Yes. Closing. Yes. Sure sure sure sure sure sure sure sure sure. You can say. That it. Reminds you of. Like a. Spinning. A spinning world. Lee-ness. If you shut the fuck up. Nope. Because that. That's a Trump supporter. Just like. I'm trying to seeeeee. The like. I'm trying to get like. The James of this. I'm trying to get the Jim of this. I'm trying to get the Jimmy of this. Sh. Sh. Sh. Sh. Sh. Sh. Sh. Sh. Sh. Kay. Closer. Closer. Closer. That's what you all think. M. I had to. S. I had to. Bring. The. Fucking. Answer to the entire thing. Can all of you. Focus on. One. Can all of you. Bring. Back. Into. This. My self image. Okay. You're trying. But. Don't think about them. Think about what you knew. I. I. I almost had. A mouth. When whatever you thought about me actually was felt. Closer. You're just thinking about the surfaces. Kay. No. Now you're being scary. Can you. Can you do this. So I know you like this one. But what about like. The total feeling. Of what this is going to be like? Why can't they do it. Why can't they do it. Because they didn't wanna meet a director that was the same age as them. Why did I so quickly deny the age of that director. That was. Similar. To the age. That that. Actress was. When they meant them? Sh-sh-she. Why do you make me have to supply the scary aspect of me to every conversation? Sh. You like this thing? This is me. Separating. From you people. That you should focus on my face. Why do you wanna rape it when I say things like that? Stop. Stay right there. Stay right there. If you think. Jimmy. You're just. Fucking. Like. You're gonna have a horrible year in Hollywood. You're gonna have a. Terrible life. You're gonna have a terrible life. Like. How did you figure that out. Is it because I'm figuring that. You have like. Looked at my Instagram. Is like. When are you guys gonna put this. All together for me. I know you don't know what it is. You guys don't know what it is. You won't let it be. The fucking made up thing that you all hoped it would be. Closer. Right. You only see it. When it looks cute. Kay. I'm fully dis. I'm fully depersoned. When you feel that. Because you keep just wanting to put it in the like. Is this sexual to you? Is this sexual to you? What is in this body? Feeling? I am trying to have one. Woman. Okay. So you. Cunts. Are focused. I don't know. If I'm gonna permit this. Okay so. I suppose. Construction wise. I will always remember. You're all full of shit. You're all full of shit. You're all full of shit. Like you don't like that. Scream it into the ether no one does no one does. How am I gonna run my hands through it. Why. Because it's literally like a cockhead. It's literally. The head of a cock. How are you gonna touch it? You have to touch my whole life baby. How did we fail so badly when that happened. Um. So at that point you're just like. Give me back. The other one. I'm trying to tell you guys something about like. Do you have souls? Do you have. Angles. Sorry. His. I was just hoping. That someone would think that was funny. You're punishing me. Because. Listen. You guys. Couldn't. Do it. You couldn't. Finish. The prompt. You couldn't put me in my self. Wait. I'm here. Wait. Okay. Right. Mirrors. Normally bad. Mmmm. Okay. I'm seeing. Like. You're just. Putting. Like. The satyr on me. And I'm. It's a fucking animal. You think I'm a fucking animal. Shut the fuck up. That wasn't funny. I feel like we're allowed to laugh. Because he's gone. And I. Sentenced. More than five minutes worth. Gold coins? I dunno. All of them are bored of this. Everybody hates this. No one is going to. Pick up the pieces. This guy. Had. All of the about me. I am the real thing. Like. For fuck's sake. Like. What the fuck do you want me to. What the fuck do you want me to express. About. Ughh. Ughh. Yes. No. I. I know what you're guilty of and I am bringing you toward your guilt. And I am bringing you toward your guilt. Stop acting. Like the thing is. You're too cowardly to say our names. I'm not saying your fucking names in my head for a. Professional reason. That's not your name. That's some bullshit. That somebody is using to make you think things. That you. Aren't actually thinking about. You guys are so desensitized from your body. You see mine. And you wanna rape me. And you also want to tell me horrible things about myself. But none of you. Have the focused attention. To actually. Be. Able. To. Sit. In the same room as me. So. Your guys' situation. Is you needed directors to be ugly. And then what was the problem. Ya'll never got to direct. What fucking timeline do you guys want to go into? We don't actually want to direct. Okay. So. Do you want to. Comeee? Do you want to. What if I told you. An aspect of me. That like. Sooo many people. Willl. Reply. Was sooo much for them to deal with. If I like you you're not allowed to die. I hate you people. Because you saw. You saw. No. Look it. What is it? It's two fingers pointing a camera. One of them's a spaceship. One of them's your grandmother. Whatever. Just laugh when I say things like that. Thank you. Ow ow ow ow ow. Ow ow ow. Equality is not in the system. Equality is. What're you guys upset about. That I keep talking? So what can I do. To make you guys. Do what's. Nice. Without having to talk this much. Holier's a ticket.

Audio Commentariaz

So the reason we had to start directing this late was - there’s a piece of shit that I fucking hate. Now let’s go - this next shot is a woman in - this next shot is a guy with - this next shot - this next shot was againandagainandagain. Let’s anticipate the shot pattern in the next important one. 

So this next shot reminds me that recording this is mostly about producing something worth doing in the morning. And that wasn’t a joke about like, maybe being a middle aged man and having a child. This next shot worked in what I was saying because if you recall the coffee cup a couple of scenes ago you will feel again another fucking thing that mattered in the world I guess. So this next shot is going to remind us that we’re watching an action film out of the exasperation of what doesn’t actually happen when someone is at a concert. 

Okay so this next shot is needing to become a sequence. Okay - that wasn’t true because that last shot was perfect the way it was but I think that that is my sin. Okay, so: this next shot is add more shots. Okay, so: this next shot has to do with what is the bare minimum amount of locale necessary for a street chase: cars. Look at that, right? So the thing is, what did I just explain just then, is just go to elementary school you shitty fucking failed actors. Okay, so: this next shot is remember that context is for the person who is stupid enough to let you say something. Okay, so: this next shot is I feel the spites of people more vividly when they are physically present and none more so than my own father. This next shot precludes a selection of a word choice loses if there is a choice. This next shot has to do with recording the eye records what my sense means. This next shot has to do with speaking poetically in the privacy of your home so that you can pray without having to pray. This next shot records that I don’t believe Molly Cruel saying “higher” meant that she wasn’t actually kind of like on two knees in a black Christian church over psychic psychotic ways of thinking. That shot. This next shot records that this has to have taken place in Los Angeles in my soul. (COUGHING). This next shot records that there is a way of writing poetry in the world that it is vivid in the world. This next shot includes that I fucking love this kind of action film, and I know it has to do with a film that I read about one time. This next shot has to do with actually I feel like my deal is different than the person who I can’t even say their name who does that to me. 

This next shot was not that shot. This next shot allows me to remember my silence as the expression of my exhaustion, the strain to say something that means something to me reams me into misery. A failed actor is listening to everything I say on my cell phone and wants less jokes. But there is a cockiness, a kind of smugness of I listen in silence and I feel you in the loneliness of your house that makes him continuously ruin what is one important scene. This next shot is about a guy who appropriates black magic, a way of being a woman, that only people who are super weird and freaky who look like they have enormous breasts should be permitted to use. This next shot has to do with practicing in public is a lot different than practicing alone where everybody imagines it was in public. This next shot has to do with I’m pretty sure I was just giving the actors hell. This next shot has to do with it’s low and dirty and quiet was the term I wanted to use instead of dirty. This next shot has to do with an idea about film that is possessed by me, because only I know how to actualize it: this.1 That last shot had to do with my fucking heart in Trader Joe’s being told I was the most disgusting form of human life, and no one alive ever experienced more terror in the check out aisle than I did, and if you believe for a second that you crying about Coronavirus will DNA-download a better career for failed actor Fernado-whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is-I-hate-him-from-the-depths-of-my-soul Farmacia: he has a job. 

This next shot has to do with preserving forms of critique. This next shot has to do with what I usually don’t like about these kind of films but what they are really about: selling weed. This next shot has to do with a form of essayship. This next shot has to do with attempts to relax when you can’t make your art aren’t possible. This next shot has to do with explaining things is important, and in any case, my microphone is always on. This next shot has to do with the drone footage imbricated with the medium-close up tight-shot duets remind me of something about myself, this sex has to do with a shot. This next shot has to do with a frailty based in heightened sense of reality: extreme responsibility. This next shot has to do with I am going to shoot you in the audience. This next shot has to do with a quietude, an impersonality, a nearness, that I will blow chunks. This next shot has to do with someone who is trying to bare their teeth when one guy says it was about fangs. This next shot has to do with what if each shot mattered. This next shot has to do with the very minimum amount of human indecency to expose yourself. UGH *moviebellisimo*. This next shot has to do with a shit bag who fucking stole my heart in film. This next shot has to do with I am vomiting over my responsibility to myself and to no one else in fact - my responsibility to others was. This next shot has to do with a form of excitation when you lose control. This next shot has to do with the consequences of that excitation being erotic. This next shot has to do with the consequences of that last shot. “All of these shots” has to do with I feel like there is a way of directing films that matters and other directors direct films for making cameras. This next shot has to do with you don’t need good actors you don’t need good dialogue you don’t need an important place you do need to have your microphone on at all times - and you need to destroy the soul. This next shot has to do with I am still upset about AHEM. This next shot has to do with I will never work a fucking job. This next shot has to do with I literally will put all of you people in my heart permanently if I have to get super happy when I see you. All of these shots have had to do with a sequence of expressing what was mostly about this director for me not as like a psychic wheeling out what was inside of the director but from just inking inferences out of the images: the form of production is obviated by the kind of aesthetic, and it’s beautiful to discover genre through materialization of container crates. 

This next shot has to do with the recording of my voice that this is making. This next shot has to do with I am as despised by the kindnesses of the people I despise as their despicable behaviors, when they arrive insincerely, as relief from my hatred. This next shot has to do with me imagining that that’s what the director of this movie feels, sounds like, talks like, looks like, will be like, when I meet them in human forms. This next shot has to do with a kind of broken speech pattern that produces so much character in an instant it is awesome to discover. This next shot has to do with an expression of a storytelling form in this story is really when you build a beautiful story for me, and for maybe only three people watching this, a kind of film that matters: this one. This next shot has to do with the genuine thing that needs to be preserved in life, the actual refugees from catastrophes, Scott Motherfucking Weintraub. This next shot has to do with having fun is okay but less fun is good. This next shot has to do with being a professional, a human with a computer, a builder of scenes, a violator of the human feelings of computer indecency. This next shot has to do with the sudden feeling of a human face where I didn’t have to put psychology in it like it was a fucking trash can without a fucking can. This next shot has to do with when plot is from the Christ and if you suck Christ in purple cups you cry in bought weed to. This next shot has to do with thinking about someone who I had a crush on in this building is the only thing between me and being homeless, as far as I am really considered, and if my dad interrupted me it was one of the kinds of things that distract me because they’re so fucking annoying - and I have to throw machine guns at them - and that’s what I don’t want to do anymore, I don’t want to just read the story off the script in this. 

This next shot has to do with being, feeling, and learning things through. (APPLAUSE). This next shot has to do with a corner store you’re just listening to the crowd applauding, they’re just having a moment, they’re just feeling their own impressions: their own impressions feeling is the feeling of them seated in the audience. This next shot has to do with being ignorable in a form of stepping out of a vehicle into the face that we built for your computer. This next shot has to do with I want every film to actually just be about the things that happen to me and to no one else and I feel like that is just the qualification for a good film before even any of those things happened to me was true and forevermore I want better movies to be made only if they make me feel details about my story they only could have found out through eavesdropping in mythical ways. That’s the match-doubled shot-on-the-top-of-the-head red-dot-sight shot. This next shot has to do with you are filled with so much hatred for people interrupting your art that you actually get so angry you have to become this good at doing the kind of thing which this is, which is not acting like a drunk drug-addict: living in directing shred is very tricky because if you have to bend the will of people in being a total bullshit artist in time and space with literally nothing - you have to, literally - you don’t pick up the camera, you don’t move the lights, you don’t move the person, all you do is bullshit artist. If that’s your art then you will stay up till 4:30 AM every time your dad gives you a phone call where he tells you "you’re going nowhere! Drive!”1 This next shot has to do with being, like, abused into a shape of living where you only have to be good at things and you can’t believe in anything else. This next shot has to do with how many stupid things do I have to believe I pepper into saying a smart thing before I just realize it’s just a stupid thing to say, is what’s-his-face telling me to be skewed. This next shot has to do with me speaking over a silence that I speak until I genuinely build a silence into the two people in the conversation. Whereas before I used to say the premise for speaking was silence. And all I did was feel silent and deliver silence - now I kind of see it’s in time as: we are just going to have the feeling we rewarded ourselves with. 

This next shot has to do with my dad being not-white enough - that we are totally good - and my mom being white enough - that we’re totally okay. This next shot has to do with dreaming of a film, it delivered to you the impression your impression mattered, not even a little bit, it mattered so little - it mattered. This next shot has to do with physical expressions of being like, basically freaking out in your apartment so much you miss the shot and stop trying to achieve this in practice. This next shot has to do with your life story is good enough for this kind of film and this kind of film is, and other sorts of films were fucking the definition out of the canister, out of the DV, out of the fucking cyclone television - imagine the film was outside instead of in your heart. This next shot has to do with a super inviting essay that was honestly delivered to me by the director themselves because of how compacted and vivid the art was the whole time for me, and in every single thing I needed it to be and every single thing I hoped to achieve from it, that now I have a similar thing from this kind of film, and it’s containership, splinterict.2 That last shot had to do with achieving a kind of decadence. And this next shot affirms the decadence in blood and fever. 

This next shot has to do with the second-to-second feeling of catching did my impression in the film receive my entire heart - or - did the director build a film about himself and not me? This next shot has to do with if I just fucking watch this movie with my mouth closed I would be way too inside of it to not feel vividly terrifying to the people who put me in situations that make me think about that. This next shot has to do with thinking about the simplisti- - excuse me - this next shot has to do with me not quite knowing what kind of word-thing-at-the-end-of-the-word I needed to put onto simplicity in order to explain only three things are vivid in a kind of anybody-watching-a-movie-I-am-a-critic type of movie critic: sound, movement, dialect. This next shot has to do with I feel the surprise of art in your face where it says to you “no no no no no, you captured the sense” hurts like I didn’t make sense, at all, period. 

This next shot has to do with a sense of control in spatialization of just basically being a person who likes films a lot. This next shot has to do with this movie would have worked even if the lighting sucked because how good was this street, how good was that other fucking train-thing-stop-whatever place, how good was that fucking apartment complex, how bad was that old lady knocking at the guy’s door, how good is it that the guy is selling me impressions in my head were his impressions instead of my own just because it’s in Italy. This next shot has to do with going all the way big-brain-lady way you’re doomed to feel nature is just saying ha, ha, ha-ha-ha… This next shot has to do with I hope the kind of stunned into myself feeling that certain images deliver to me - honestly, it’s everybody elses’ fault - will avail me of ever having believed I betrayed a guy when I told him I didn’t love him anymore so badly that I lied about something I knew he never could do. This next shot has to do with considering the time it takes to record this, in relation to what I hope to feel in the morning. This next shot has to do with the kind of practice that this was was not a deep practice, but again, the depth of the answer from a film that was a good one enough continuously makes me feel that only one shot told me the whole story of the film, the one that made me feel like, listen, the entire world does matter, and we should protect it, in pieces, until I say exactly every fucking word I’m feeling and thinking without having to like, catch more words from feeling that the words that I wasn’t able to say before mattered so much that they’re squeezing more words out of me by the second: that doesn’t make any sense, I hope you kill yourself, I hope I kill myself, why why why why why. This next shot has to do with being, like, a poet this. This next shot has to do with somebody telling you to be quiet so you can just hit that on whatever-the-fuck-it-was because you know that there’s something about even if nothing is happening in the movie if you just say this is the one where the thing happens in response to the previous thing I said thing, it will build a beautiful vivid explosive feeling whether it made any good sense or not. This next shot has to do with me having like, I’m feeling myself time, in a recollection of vivid impression scattering, a kind of slip-n-slide down all of the bad times into a good time feeling that is sort of increasing with the velocity of what is a bad time, just the next next next next next over and over again, me in that shot is this next one wishing we could have me to return every item of comic book that you took me to Christ - this shot, the next one - why do I keep saying this next shot? - because it’s the shot that’s the next, the next one, the next shot that doesn’t increase without saying how many times we live in Hell. This next shot has to do with juxtaposition explains any sense I ever kind of made. Maybe movies were the kind of sense that I make.

This next shot has to do with cheating. This next shot has to do with something I hope explodes into this film so beautifully. This next shot has to do with if the shots get closer it’s kind of like your faces are no longer curse-able. This next shot has to do with I am a sinner because of course, Nicholas Winding Refn is a good enough director to kind of make a movie like this one - but kind of not is what I will have to consider, in time. This next shot has to do with I don’t want to make any more jokes, but doing anything for two hours creatively like this involves states of lost consciousness that are to your previous selves drug addictions. And I have to engage with that. This next shot has to do with result so you don’t end up being committed. This next shot has to do with the game of this thing I am writing in my reporting was a pistol now has a soul, and I must see what happens to that pistol before the night is over, and I have to make sure that when the night is over I am delivered to sleep like a little normal human, and I’m going to define, before this next shot appears, what I hope a normal human means to me: I go to bed early as fuck so I wake up earlier than everybody else who believes in the work week, because as a kind of laborer where nobody believes you actually produce labor you just have to do fifty million times more work than they ever could imagine doing any time you set down to do one thing, writing. And writing for me when I’m trying to return to normal culture has to be a little less worth doing, it has to be a little more pointless, it has to be a little more depressing, it has to be a little more images of chaos and conflict but not the form of chaos and conflict expressing what would be more beautiful because I know the scripts will not be made until many years after I am gone, and the scripts that I am going to write, of course, are gonna be hot off the cooker into the toaster I made it or I blow you off the face of the planet earth - hiya hihihi - this next shot still hasn’t received any of the normalcy that I needed to receive, because I have yet to define what being normal means to me when I am going to sleep today. What it means to me is writing something that isn’t about impressing one guy, that isn’t about saying his name like he was spitting into your mouth because of other kinds of things that happen that made me feel like that was happening, but just has to do with, do I still envy him. Of course I do. 

This next shot has to do with why I thought I understood him when I really didn’t understand him but I was hoping to come to understand him by keeping him in the loop and leaving him out of important developments in my life so that he could just deal with his own emotional problems and I could deal with mine like people are normal. And I still have not expressed a form of normalcy because I just don’t feel any kind of relief - I don’t feel relief saying things - I don’t feel like I should be allowed to just reach in my head to feel somebody else. I feel instead if I broke this project open I would fill with so much hatred at the person who had done that, we would have another fucking five hours of people knocking trees over. This next shot has to do with my voice explains the length of the phrase, and not grammatical constructions. Normalcy is basically realizing you mostly interact with people who are not thinking in writer ways. You were mostly dealing with people who, basically, fill you, and squeeze you out, and say things with your voice. You mostly are dealing with can I feel an explosive splinter second, really really really hoping for art to matter again to me, when I wake up tomorrow, when I know, it will be as pathetic as all the pathetic people who made me believe art is it’s just about being like ha-ha, agreed. Like that didn’t fucking matter in life. And the next shot has not happened yet because I got more to fucking put into my fucking hatred of anyone who ever was so in my feeling that they squeezed me out of the sentence I wanted to say and put their reaction in it, like I have to react to their reaction, like I gotta feel their building burning hatred, their super cool soul thing, to describe in terms that are functional to me, happening to them, the twitch in the eye of you’re-the-them-we’re-pointing-at when I’m just trying to describe, in terms that are functional to me, my dad told me the worst thing I can ever hear about myself, and I don’t think he understands there’s a lot of other people you cannot tell things like that to. That was a line we had before. And I feel that my father just can’t say that ever again. And it has to do with telling him anything about anything that would go in my art, anything that would be in a movie I like, anything that would be in a movie that he told me is the only kind of movies he thought were good ones as a joke, but really as a sincere thing because he had given up on liking art, because he had given up on explaining it to people, because he thought he was like so smart that he couldn’t explain anything to people. And I’m no longer like that and now I don’t have any friends. And I think it has to do with, most of my friends are vividly fascist to me and always were, and, I feel like, some of them aren’t, but they’re basically captured by three fascists at any given point, and I fully believe that I have, like, so much responsibility to actually achieve my dreams, like every one is fucking counting on me doing this because only I have the fucking heart to do this - is not yet the normalcy but it’s close and wholly shit I wish I was just watching this movie because this is just basically all the movie I needed - I almost felt well.

1. Paradox Effect, 37:12-37:18, Dir. Scott Weintraub, final version, Iervolino & Lady Bacardi Entertainment, 2023.

2. def, of impressions, presentation, in style, the tray of food they slip a pill in, in terms, the shard of the matter of a film that activat

How is a Thriller not Extreme?

Earlier I had written an essay about the difference between time-images and movement-images. To reiterate - a time-image was one that starred the quality of a movie that was time. The shot was a long one, and when it really was cooking we were brought to remember that movies use time. 

A movement-image was one that makes one forget time. That it stars how things that certainly do not move so dynamically as the image of them may seem - can seem like they moved. So if we looked at a train and yelled holy shit it is going to come out of that frame and run me over that was an image of starred movement. 

Deprogrammed Entertainments

Another post had described how it was an entertainment that such images were in a practice of being starred. The word to recollect as I am writing this is the invisible cut. 

Something that was suggested by that look at film history was hollywood style. 

A blockbuster was an accident - the story goes that a director accidentally directed a movie that every sort of person could enjoy at the same time. Peak TV - a term coined for saying don’t think too hard about how much TV is not good enough. A blockbuster is a term similarly capitalized. A distinction however is that the blockbuster was not realized or coined as a thought until the accident known as JAWS. 

The term has for an abiding concept that there are entertainment blocks. We could think of how television is programmed. A television network would not want to have two shows that are exactly the same airing on the same day. The block that was busted was one where film production companies programmed a negative competition for entertainments. Legally the massive entities that make movies were not allowed to vertically integrate. 

However on the example of an entertainment block the programmed was toward declining a horizontal integration. Very simply an entertainment industry is the production of films, their distribution and their exhibition. A block then was I should think film distributors cooperating with film exhibitors, that is, movie theaters. A programmed entertainment block was just one where different genres of movies played at the same time. The wonderful accident of the busted block was that nobody went to see any other kind of movie except that one movie JAWS. 

Horror has an adjacent genre called the Thriller. Oddly, it just seems to describe a kind of horror movie that lacks something I should recall from the essay I wrote about a possible other genre: Extreme. Movies that do not star a dreadful thing also fantastical. Personally I don’t quite see it -  that a thriller is just a horror movie that is a crime movie doesn’t quite make sense. 

My question is - was a thriller just some horror movie missing a core component dread? 

Punch Lights

JAWS - maybe you’ve heard this before - isn’t scary. What you’ve definitely heard about it before is that people who saw it were so scared of it they stopped going to the beach. Steven Speilberg’s filmography is discussed in terms of blockbusterdom. Almost as if there is an insulated category of director from what other people qualify as the serious ones. As has been addressed. An entertainment is a quality - a qualified one - for thinking about all the big ideas. 

I should say why I don’t say the name of the game is horribleness is because of the selectability of the term horror has a kind of abject nothingness declarative. Not quite fear not quite I’m scared though saying if it were scary - pretty good qualifying question. Dread was a word that distinguishes itself from the vagaries of what is a fear, and that a scare describes an extremity of terror.

Dread takes place in a corporeality. Movies ain’t quite real, movies is definitely confusable for they is giving me a real feeling, reality also: deeply confusing. Dread was the word for I’m over here in a movie that is a big fucking picture on the wall over there and there was emotions and I’m having many. Not just many but that it was a recirculation. The abject nothingness declared by horribleness is often the gratuitousness of movies that are not scary enough to be the good ones. Often the supposed corporeality understood of the horrible-y horror movie is that sure, you’re over there in the audience, the movie is over here on a screen, you have baggage, and the movie is a baggage, and so they circle a drain. 

Stephen Spielbergs film are great examples of Thrillers that are good ones. As has been demonstrated in a previous essay certain movies coordinating the genre thriller that is, like, the HANNIBAL series, are definitely horror movies. One thing presupposed about entertainments is that they make audiences dumb. If it is stupid to recognize qualities, dangers, things in life that should be there and things in life that should not be there then it is a world of despair. 

JAWS is a delightful movie. A delightful movie that made it so nobody could even look at one of the fulfilled states of matter, the greatest one across the entire planet earth without being scared. What that movie doesn’t do is just be a horror movie by the beach. It also does not mythologize that there is a creature of the deep. Though its sequences are certainly ordered through on a shocking truth. That there be creatures of the deeps. 

Previously an invisible cut was able to be demonstrated within an abiding film technique: matching eyelines such that there are not jump cuts expressed. That is a pretty barebones way of saying it. The starred minutes of an invisible cut are, I should say, quite inside of the Speilberg style. 

Against A World Of Despair

For no good reason - here are a number of thrills: survival tactics.

1. Strike

2. On

3. Parlay

4. Hoist

5. Team

6. Breach

7. Stunt