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Sam Basu, Craig Cooper, Sabrina Tarasoff


Erin Baillie-Rutter, Naoki Sutter Shudo, Ryan Trecartin, Richard Linklater, Victor Boullet Stephen Mathew Nachtigall & Jessie Rose Vala Laurence Sturla, John Schlesinger, Viva, Gaston Rossilli, International Velvet, Paul Morrissey Cecelia Lipson, Ultra Violet

Fragment transcribed from Ryan Trecartin The Re’Search (Re’Search Wait’S). 2009-2010 https://vimeo.com/24631059

Scanned pages from Slacker by Richard Linklater St. Martin’s Griffin. 1992 Screen grabs from Midnight Cowboy Dir. John Schlesinger. 1969 End paper grab from Paranoia Agent Dir. Satoshi Kon 2004

i s s u e2 . 1 o r d i n a r y S O C I E T Y

Green House Project Stephen Mathew Nachtigall & Jessie Rose Vala 6 The Re’Search 18 Incapacitating Agents Naoki Sutter Shudo 26 Factory Work 30 Heavy Hitter Naoki Sutter Shudo 40 Uber Parking Victor Boullet 48 UntitledReliquary Erin Baillie-Rutter 68 Slacker 80




















A fragment transcribed from the Ryan Trecartin video

I love when I’m on vacation, can someone zipper me up? I ‘spect more from technology Fuck you I hold water Fuck off (I expect more from technology) Don’t look at me like I’m not the first woman you’ve seen, you stupid aerial fag Oh my gad I can’t expect your age-group to understand my personality I’m a professional; feel it. I mean right now Don’t let she talk about it, she’s a pooler, she’s an asshole, boy, she’s a bitch, har har You still play pool I’m totally over sexed We’re all like functions You are just so ‘fake body’ Look at that office chair I want you to tell me how you feel - and be so on point about it Do you do Boys? Or is it not part of your personality? She’s a conspiracy flick, she never sticks around; always diving. Sounds like someone’s control-freaking Are your souls famous? Are you too considerate? Huh? My god Patsy, give me the sledgehammer Guys, if you two married what aspect of you personality would you let slide, and what would you compromise? I would expect equal blends This is off device I want what others haven’t. No one said I’m young; I’m post-advice So I don’t ‘prime time’, we’re always ON The employment said I’m a fake, I’m not (you sound such a full- sOgy its such a hEatde just a hRatde) This one! This one too! What. Inside of you. Mini Dyer has just said I’m clever. The fear is we’re everything. You should bail out while you still have function Fuck you bitch Sledgehammer! Fuck you bitch Really binding. If you had to rearrange one defining feature, what would be the interview network? Fucking pervert server fairs finding factual vacation crap 18

Tell me about a network you PrO never seen… … … communication company I’m going to the airport No!


And then she got really cute and emotional Where’s the sledgehammer? And then she got really cute and emotional, really cute You’re so cute right now. I told you you were cute and emotional I Know You girls are so … Can I be a part of it? It’s just an extract I want you to look at me like a friend would, a friend. Friend Whatever Switch! Look at me as a friend would Look at me as a friend would If I was ever in that position, what do I say? You’re so cute What do I say? It’s true What the fuck are you talking about you fucking faggot, you ass hole. Maybe… Maybe later sister You are not very good at your fucking job Any of you believe in consequences? I’d say, but in different company Yah Max is ready; he’s a fucking dog Watch me go alpha because of civilities unloaded Whatever, I’m on … so it’s really cheap People return for that reason Randal, Take off your clothes Parents are on vacation now Randal, get naked Fantastic Randal, fucking show me your butt hole. Plastic Randal, touch your thigh Randal, trading spaces, Randal, trading faces. Show me your chode! What 19

I never want to leave the Transition Sister; Hammer Refresh this room Everyone disappears, I look at the clock it says eleven, eleven Whatever Fuck you double E, Concise vacation journal … … isn’t way enough I’m sorry, I’m starting to not trust the house I’m starting to not trust the house Fucking demonstration Decompress bitch I’m done, echo-walking your epic cunt Oh look, not enough suitcase Too bad the airport turned me away — again Whatever I always thought this started under this bed, which is in this house But my DI rewired to cover symptoms I’m me, the practice space. And I’m mad about it this time Breaking down our fathers network is so Demo I’m going to murder some father figure’s over compressed figure The airport gave me a free drink Are you my Little Lisa or are you entering my theme park behind my back? So I’m about forty seconds away from anthrax Go watch Go, go, direction taker Go watch Yeah I know Oh my gosh, Pacific Ultra rocks on my phone My watch just said something; its my watch, basically I went to the surgery and now I can play the flute or something Yeah, demonstrate it Floss, play something You’re such a fucking soldier Check it out you’re so fucking crappy At least I date people I like dating myself. 20

MADAME WANG 2.1 Word up, ...merger … video.. before you agree contract Oh yeah And then I’m going to go see Face, and jab a passport up his arse What? What is she talking about, who is she? My Flute Hey, where’s my song, I got you as a singer I play the flute, the flute Randy, tell the world not to answer Sam’s phone your life is over, just make some … and … exit Don’t answer the phone Whatever, just walk around Come over here Do you need a new girlfriend? Well don’t look at me Don’t look at me! Erm, I’m going to call someone Hi, I’m Sammy B, and if you are out there, then pick B-up! Assist me, today’s the day that someone B’s me up Hopefully, sincerely, XOed out I love when Sammy B feels it This is me So cool Its just a screen you stupid pop-up This is real I love my translator, she practiced my talk in signs. I have you very well don’t I? Yes Say her life again ‘My guitar, my guitar’ Check out the party in my bedroom It’s a fucking date rape, your boring research. Why can’t I stay in focus? Focus on me focus on me here, focus on me here, accelerate my shithead now. I write myself cheques and then cash them, because you are slow. Focus on this: There is no reason to use anything that exists. Don’t save my life behind my back again Suck my landscape It never fucking works, I’m always here, I’m still here! 21

A fucking duet Duet? Yeah We are going to take the solo away from you and make you join a band, trust me That was so good you should start a band Whatever biatches, that was some wishful thinking shit I love it If you don’t have the package, I’m going to have to force you all to condense. And guess who just got jet set? Its me! Hi guys, I’m really into the Third World right now I collect things, I do designs and the airplane has ashtrays in the isles. Can you believe it? Ash trays. I’m going to donate it to the Fourth World. Like Detroit probably needs it. Lets talk about Tolido. Amazing downgrade, its dreamy, so romantic. They promised not to follow me, but I see reflections. This squatting coach, this plane only has coach. Mum, I’m going to freaking sink this flight. Basically I can’t wait until the internet declares its independence. I’m going to be cyber-cited better than individuals. Speaking of individualism and your shelf-life, can I advertise on you again? Don’t try to genius me, I saw this game once where you count your marketing She takes hormones I’m not taking hormones You should sleep on it, I just want you to be natural or whatever Make a decision tomorrow Yeah sleep on it Timmy, we’re behind you Oh my god I feel so fake, I hate practicing girl-talk. I’m really into blue and pink together; like both of them together. I am participating: I am participating I am participating I am participating I am participating I am participating I participated! :) I think we should sue the people 22

MADAME WANG 2.1 I’m fucking embarrassed; we are sitting in an idea of my bedroom, where’s my fucking sledgehammer? Because the economy of my body is booming, and everyone takes part, I’m not about to donate anymore. That’s interesting I’m going to chop her head off This isn’t development, I’m really into development; its part of being hot. You’re such a conspiracy glitch Wait until the shit’s in the fan and hits your ugly face, hits your ugly face I just want to bypass being concentrated She’s totally a ‘never-again-er’ Just, like, decondense and get your own de-con sence Yeah, she’s talking about a merger The government wants us to merge, it’s in their best interests If we merge, then there is less of us for them to murder That makes their job really easy It’s a temporary merge you dickheads We can fucking demerge later; I have a company Isnt it my company? No you fucking shithead, because, actually, I do not believe in monopolies I’m so glad Starbucks is dead I like Starbucks I smell something It’s called poison, we are totally almost done here Not only is it bad enough that they put eggs in our lollypops It’s now in all the air conditioners Then turn off the air Right now you bitch I’m going to kill their dad; don’t talk to Nancy She seems innocent but she’s not that way. I saw her. And I know you are going to talk to her. My mother double bought that for my birthday. Lesbians posing as my mum, they bought that for my birthday, so I know. Cos I watched it (I hate talking to my supply) are you guys watching Sammy B? Well, you better stop JC, does T want me to play the flute for her? er, no 23

Talk to her so she knows that I am almost in the band Say hi to floss I love her flute download I’m totally taking her, just for fun Invite some friends over; have a community I’m nervous. You know how I feel about humanity. No fear Hello Clare? Oh hey Barroser, yeah. We’re having band practice; My Bedroom Conversion. That sounds fun, are you watching Sammy B? We’re watching Sammy-B never die Let’s ‘guest’ it as our other “who we are”s. Sandy doesn’t get that, she just does not get that Are you in the group? I hate that experience It’s totally a thing Lets couch this bird and first-person it let’s practice songs Do you want to see Over Anyways? I’d rather do music you piece of crap We need privacy, it’s like a gate or something Ok I’m sorry Completely ‘told’ Ok I’m sorry Sammy just died! No, what! No no no. I hope that bitch killed herself already You’re so evil; you’re kind of evil Somebody needs to show her how to actually pick up a knife, pick it up now She’s an attention grabbing shithead I like her I’m going to throw up in her face you have the props, just do it free No! my poison arrow is not a fetish She’s a piece of Repeat; control something you group effort Girls, I just got a ‘SAMMY B DEAD’ text update We have to go watch it I’m so watching it


MADAME WANG 2.1 All these people are really losing their faith in sex culture, nervously passing space-time I agree Office chairs are the fashion chairs All I’m saying is that Sammy B is a fucking pain in the ass, bitch-whore and I wish I was her. I love her shoe size. I’m having so much fun it’s crazy, it’s just me, my dog and my best friends ever. Give me our acceleration. Why are you so slow? Why is acceleration so slow right now. Be a queer or homo. I think scientists should have big freedoms, that’s what I am trying to figure out right now; I want to be the first AsianAmerican woman president after my surgery, tomorrow. Good for you Go Sammy B Tomorrow! This is my dad, this is my dad. This is what your daughter told me. turn your head. When I am on vacation and I wanna get things done I try really hard and Bungy should try hard too. Vacation is not a luxury it’s a science given Right. Ocean, beach, porch, porch, brick by brick I’ll make this happen. Bungy don’t listen to me. Bungy try saying something else then. Newspaper hahahaha. Basically this goes against everything I believe sucking. I was hired, you know. I’m Generic Light You know, if you wanted a new contract… did someone say you were generic light? I’m Generic Light Thats a very fact ahahaha Generic Light is very bright, I wanna fuck it. Get this? You get this on tape? Like those Ikea girls were in here again, I hate those fucking freaks. I have to do this because they are hiring me to do this. Why are they hiring me all the time? Fuck! I hate, I hate being hired. All Hires Are Freeloaders no I don’t agree yeah throw them out then you would have to throw out the Vampyre; he’s a hire No no, vampyre is a hobby, this is a hire, I’ll show you right now.



Felch! Felch! They chant. At first I hear Fetch! Fetch! but I know it couldn’t be right. It takes a moment before I recall the definition of their cheers. Felch! Felch! I don’t. Fetch! I think of the dog I used to take care of, who never would. Fetch! That dog was crazy yet absolutely cute. The neighbor downstairs who would always be smoking cigars on his patio had also brought home a dog right after Billie got hers, following my advice. I will help you take care of the pup, I had told her. The pup was insane and would wake us up early in the morning and Billie was always the one who had to take care of it. She told me she felt like a single mom. I would still be in bed and I could hear Billie’s loud voice. No! No! She would scream and shout and chase the pup. The neighbor downstairs would also scream sometimes. No! Bad dog! His dog was not that great, at least compared to Rocko. Billie had told me she wanted to call the pup Butch, but Rocko stuck. She would try to get Rocko to fetch stuff to no avail. No! Bad dog! She had also said, during my few months crashing at her place, that I was a bad caretaker. I would just play with Rocko. I couldn’t resist how cute Rocko was. Felch! No! I can’t felch. Bad dog! I didn’t care to be a good caretaker, but I really loved Rocko, unconditionally and boundlessly. Rocko could eat my face, my toes, or whatever protruding part of my body, I didn’t mind. Rocko was just a dog. Dogs are born, run and piss on the carpet back and forth, and one day they are dead. Alexis and Casey stop chanting and we all get dressed and go out of the backroom and back to work. At my next break, I find Alexis out in the backyard getting high. I’m off in an hour, I say, I don’t have plans tonight. Alexis shows me a video of him hitting dab on a bong that looks like an elephant. After inhaling for a long time he collapses and there are audible laughs. Alexis tells me he enjoys looking at videos of girls being beaten by their moms every time he gets high. Let’s go to my place after my shift, he says. Don’t invite Casey, he adds. I never do, somehow he shows up often. Casey used to hang out so often at our workplace that he ended up getting hired. He would just sit around all day and do nothing. Now that he gets paid, he’s forced to move around a little more but still doesn’t do much. I feel I need a shower. 26

MADAME WANG 2.1 As soon as we get home and step in the vestibule crowded with pottery and framed photographs Alexis is like, Democracy in this house is over. He tries to choke me out in a pictorial pose and we fight without touching the surrounding art. We tilt and tuck until it tightens. Eventually we move to another part of the apartment where the kilims are providing a cozy backdrop and we don’t get hurt. Finally we congratulate ourselves and Alexis goes away taking off his meretricious ensemble which I pick up to launder. I would like to come on a crying face and see the loaded tears give birth to a new form never before seen. Lubricated. I go find Alexis because I need an absolute and it’s on again. Chic socialism rules. One night we all go out together after work, Alexis, Casey, Devin, Hollis. You came to earth and got in the club scene, I hear. I look around, nothing in particular. We dance. I hear Ciara, Your body is my party. Devin looks at me like his body is my party. I mouth, Nobody’s invited but you baby. In the video for the song, when Ciara meets Future for the first time outside of the party they casually introduce themselves to each other like it’s the first time they meet, which is staged but looks so real. Ciara introduces herself as C. In that fantasy world promiscuity is right around the corner, direct from name-swapping to getting undressed, but that’s not what I want. Future moans high-pitched oh’s. It makes me want to go steady like Beyoncé and Jay-Z waking up in the kitchen wondering how the hell it all happened. Beyoncé moans in a lower voice. We all go to another club where we dance to hardcore like our cocks got irreversibly super huge all of a sudden. The dots on Devin’s shirt become beans as we dance. The next day Hollis fires Alexis for taking home food he was supposed to be throwing away. Casey quits a week later and there are some new people who fill in. I beg Casey not to quit. Stay! He doesn’t care. He says he saved enough money to go to his sister’s in Zürich where he can take care of her kids and her pets. The new people are nice, and Hollis lets me manage them as I please, and I get to work the register more often, which offers a nicer scenery than the kitchen. An older man who comes in about twice a week always drops mad cash, and one day he asks me if I would be interested in helping him out with his business, which he doesn’t describe but gives me his card instead. Later I visit the place. Turns out it’s just a home in a residential area. The whole front lawn is covered in cement, unlike any of the other houses on the street, but a few trees growing wild in the back balances the lot. I wonder if the man is in the house, because there are no lights on, but it’s still daytime, so really I can’t tell. I ring to no answer and I step in. In the kitchen I find a half-eaten pear with its sticker on the dish, moist with the pear juice. Some damn dog barking in the distance, and inside the house, multiple clocks ticking sans rhythm, just like at my father’s growing up. When he left to relocate, the unwound clocks stopped ticking gradually until every room fell silent. He came back a few months after and it started again and he got me a small clock as a gift, golden with a world map on the face. I didn’t need a clock then, still don’t, at least for now. The 27

man is sleeping on a couch, shirtless. His chest is bloody, but as I step closer I see the blood is really red flower tattoos. Hit by the stripes of sunlight from the blinds, he looks more beautiful than all the porn flesh under flash I’ve seen. It’s unclear whether he enjoys having me watch him sleep or not, so I wander around a little more, and he finds me back in the kitchen when he wakes up. We shake hands for the first time, a friendly handshake. He tells me his doctor told him to take a nap every day. They took his dog a while ago, and ever since the neighbor’s dog has been yapping all the time. He shows me his backyard connected to his neighbor’s. The damn dog comes running and licks the man’s boots. You should take naps too, it will help you, the man tells the dog. Hollis questions me why I’m late after my break. Don’t quit on me, he tells me. I’m not planning on leaving, I tell him. Good. Good. Meanwhile I know Devin is in the back jerking off or something. One of the new employees tries to guess my ethnicity. Mexican? No. Middle-Eastern? No. The game is pointless. I can tell he’s into me and this is his way of trying to get to know me. I can tell he’s looking for unique characteristics. Jewish, like Israeli Jewish or something? Well I’m uncut, so take a wild guess. He laughs. Hollis shuts down the game, Come on new guy, back to the back, you’ve got plenty to do still. I work the register. Who cares where you’re from, Hollis giggles. He’s very right. He tells me if I keep doing my job like this, he’s going to promote me, then goes to the back. It’s already dark when we close the store. The sun dries up quick these days, like streets learned to have gutters over time. The early settlers arrived to this town on horses and carriages and built everything from the ground up, covered in mud, slaughtering their cattle to feed themselves and the construction. It took a long time before this place became okay, and it took us even longer to forget this place is where it is only because some settler got tired after a long ride and decided this would do. He was right. He knew the incapacity to choose without the sun urging you to slow down until you settle down. Stop. Stay! Good. Hollis rolls down the shutter. Can I have the keys, I’m going out tonight, he asks me. I’m in charge of the keys to the back of the store where we unload the merchandise, where Hollis has his Dakota that he only uses when he goes for a ride. He usually bikes everywhere and lives nearby. We say goodbye. 9AM tomorrow, I tell the new employees. Hollis is full of semen in his belly. That semen will never fertilize shit. The new employees are young and their cocks won’t soften until they’ve come two or three times in a row. They work hard, at least for now. When they’re not new anymore, they might loosen up and take it easy. Hollis drives to Jaden’s, and the ride is bumpy and unpleasant. The springs are fucked on the Dakota and the vibrations hurt his still-hard cock tucked under the belt, upright against his belly, and his belly is full of air from all the pumping earlier. He’s holding everything tight like it’s a matter of life and death. If he lets loose even for a second, if he farts, all the semen would 28

MADAME WANG 2.1 flow out and stain his pants and his seat. Hollis concentrates and drives straight and steady. It hurts. His face is so mean, like he inhales but never exhales. It would make a beautiful photograph. It’s my favorite shot of him. Jaden is always naked when he’s home, and he’s naked when he greets Hollis in. His cock gets hard too as they kiss hello. His kisses are the kind that push saliva in your mouth. They get very sensitive from all the sticky saliva around each other’s lips. Hollis wants to fuck Jaden right away but first has to relieve his bloated body. I have to use the bathroom, he tells Jaden, who replies, I want you to get all that come on my face. Hollis objects, It’s gonna stain your face. Jaden doesn’t mind. Come on Hollis, I beg you. He’s got his arms around Hollis and won’t let him leave. Stay. He undresses Hollis, still standing. When he notices Hollis’ boxers and pants are wet with leaked semen, he takes some with his fingers and licks it and puts it under his nose to smell it. I don’t care if you accidentally shit on me, Jaden says. Hollis accepts because Jaden’s down for whatever. Jaden lies down, all sorts of heavy sounds follow as Hollis squats on Jaden’s face and farts and semen squirt out until he feels empty and better. Jaden sucks the rest out. His face looks incredible, he can’t open his eyes, they’re drowned shut and there’s come everywhere around too. Hollis gets up and looks at the scene. You know, he says, The stars were unbelievable tonight, I understand why people had to create the idea of a God because the world is fundamentally too astonishing to understand without someone telling you how it is.


















At the very beginning there is a five-minute long sunrise on the lush waterfront. I travel all the way down south on my bed. The tropical means mosquitoes but they don’t bite the tatted up. I pick up prostitutes and drop them off in different towns just for fun plant them like seeds. We used to play with fireworks at night by the water. Then we would ride back home by steep roads. One time I left you at the park. When I got home you were lying on the bathroom floor. I woke up with you next to me. Your mouth was tainted green. Another time I caught you touching yourself but you pretended you were asleep. I did too to see if you would do it again. There is a relaxing atmosphere although it’s hard to pinpoint what it is precisely. Something about the quality of the afternoon to evening light and air. The Persian boy has a perfume too strong and when I turn my head he asks if it’s the scent that’s making me spin. Ad Vitam Eternam is the name he told me. Afterwards we all eat in the back of a noodle place and we have soup in the dim room. I can see spots have grown on your forehead and it might be the change of water. I hear here it’s more mineral. You said you would fax yours from home. It’s already dark outside and when I point with my cigarette in my home’s direction there is nothing you can see. It’s a young season. There is a tunnel close by where the bus passes. We take a cab.

The moment the techno from downstairs stops. Later they tell me the 40

neighbors complained. The girl still hangs from the ceiling. We are about seven to ten seated. The girl spins around. At the end she lies on the carpet and someone steps on her hands without noticing. They told me I’m lucky. A girl shows me pictures of the girl who was hanging. There is a span between the girl in the picture and the girl on the carpet, and the purple ropes that were hanging her but that are now on my knees. A man with a knit hat shows me a drawing of girls walking around. I was brought up looking at pictures. From the rooftop garden I felt as a professional. I’m sure it was the same with everyone. Until another girl got hanged so we went back inside. There is one painting I like to think of often. Men on horses are in a garden in front of a house. There is snow everywhere and a little boy is greeting the men. Inside the house I could see a man reading a book. They had told me the boy was me. The snow was untouched by man. Watching everything and concentrating. My intentions are pure like the air we breathe. So it depends where we are. Later we can discuss what we saw. Memories are inadvertent. We feel pain when the seasons change and so it goes with debates of uncertainty. I can draw the scene from memory. You could make a movie based on it too. Bringing heaviness back. Having a sort of idea of inhabiting a new mindset in that shaven head. So rude, in the room upstairs. Lights flicker and pound the skin we feel haute. Next to the veranda. Your questions are all so basically what I’m trying to say is, but before that could you maybe, and what I mean by that is, at the same time I am not sure if, then could you ask him if, but before I want

MADAME WANG 2.1 you to tell him that, etc. I coordinate the questions in the form of a single exhaling. It’s like when you write it’s text she said. When you take a pic of us it’s photography like right now as we speak. When I make food it’s usually dinner for two. It’s just doing things and it’s all that. I used to model, and I like how you can google my name and see modeling pics of young my name. Meanwhile we sip something. It’s not about no image anymore. I don’t care anymore and I shouldn’t. Exhaling smoke in a scotch glass and it rises like fog. It’s about a fog that’s just there. People see you and they assume you’re hip you’re chic but it doesn’t contadict anything. We’re about being here. And also being there. Every day is a genre. We toy around with the new collaboration between a designer from the ex-USSR and an Oriental camera maker. It’s without worries that we snap. First pic of you in a see-through sequined gown. You look chilly with the flash on. Next pics are basically the same but with different boys and girls. A morning after. Realizing the past season and the next season at once. We’re out on the patio. You’re the one who made me realize. I beg you give me some time. We’re happy together since we met. Don’t let everything be soiled. Let me talk to him calmly, let me have a talk with him like adults do. Stop pouting little teen. I like you. And then, fuck her. Strong. My man. In her ass, direct. No more anal artery. Pout for valid reasons. Spit black for more than four months. I have been in this situation for years. No first name, no intimacy between them, let them stay abstract to each other. Maddyn is my friend and tells me lots of things. Sometimes I use his words knowing that 41

act of stealing is going to get me some day. I miss him so much some days. We have a dinner planned later. We try to change the way the pots are displayed on the patio. You want vanilla ice cream. Vanilla is smooth. The little black dots in the ice. Talking fast we stop caring. It’s just an air of whateverness that guides the corridors to the bathroom. The lotion is vanilla-scented too. The little ingrown hairs around your pussy, peck them like birds. You pronounce birds like you pronounce beds. There are no seasons anymore mister. You can hear the birds chipping all day long and even at night sometimes. Some days they chip closer to our house. From the patio you could see a kindergarden with kids wilding out and shouting. From the other side of the house I can hear a neighbor kid screaming. The home decor is well thought-out. Stacks of DVD’s by the bed and a couple statues. Both busts. I want to use the word postindustrial. But it’s something else at stake.

I don’t really get it. Sonia used to date Maddyn a few years ago. Now she’s going to the desert for a few months and share a workspace with Carol. I don’t know if they’re friends. She suggests that I come along. We eat tapas mainly crafted from fish. The good stuff is exceptionally true to its name. Lately it’s gotten better and better. Although quantity-wise it’s not enough. Lena is having a group show with a writer I admire next week. I ask her if I can come along. She tells me she doesn’t like the way that writer portrays herself. I say fine. She tells me I should get the plane tickets soon. You strike at my heart when you come to the boudoir looking for me. I thought you were in the kitchen. Your strike is true. We take a walk in the garden together. You try to tell me to try to remember something from earlier that night. I am a confused man. Some people want to go to the club. We follow them. Herb gets me a nauseating drink. A boy puts his arm between my chest and my shirt. I cannot see you from the bar.

Late for the party. Don’t be foolish, you slept all the way in. Your face is puffy. Benzo something something she says. We manage somehow. Matta and Sonia and Clarke have accomplished something rare here. For months they were negated. But then they turned the negation back on itself. Now the negation propagates like a wave. I am calm amid the no wave. Funny how you can stand in the crossfire and it feels good. Eventually the negation comes back full circle. The way we chat, our eyes move rapidly in the air. Almost never in sync with topics. Five different people come tell me the same thing. They all reference a radical intellectual group from twenty or thirty years ago but

The door opens and an empty hotdog tray flies in. This is as exciting as it gets. It’s dark inside so we don’t care about food. Residual relish perfume while we cruise in a circle. The car had a newold smoke scent and you were sitting next to me. As drunk as you could get. So I wrote a song for you. We have Volvic always at reach. And some chronic at least. Listening to it in the vehicle is not the same as on your phone. We drive some more while the song is on repeat. The mastering is great and deep. I just wanted to say that this is nothing special. Lots of cool things happen while we are like this that you probably didn’t know. The haze is pink and we’re closer to home than I


expected. Clarke looks like a happy boy. I would make a cyanotype of you while you pass out. In the morning. And later get bored. Today I constructed models for new buildings I would like to live in. It’s just a plan. Before I met Clarke his day would be to make a choice between KFC and McDonald’s. He used to be all Evian and Ambien. Tomorrow is great.

MADAME WANG 2.1 and let my shit splatter on my shark-skin Westons. The undigested tomatoes flood the red ants. It’s both a disaster and a feast. The surviving crippled ants carry the brownish tomatoes to their home. I get back in the hearse. We arrive at the party and I need to shit again. So I look for the john and I meet a cute little boy that guides me. I make him wait while I unload. Laurie is fucking in front of everyone. I still have random shit in my intestine. My sphincters are letting me down because of the heavy amyl air. Sharon arrives with her gigolo, I kiss her hello, then I go back to the john. I love shitting so I’m okay with diarrhea I guess. An Arab guy knocks frantically on the door while my ass is expulsing liquid at the speed of light. The whole situation creates a black hole and we are all sucked in. It’s boring as fuck. Then I get reincarnated into black ink that constitutes this text. Upon reading that last sentence my girlfriend starts crying and coming because the genius of my poetry is too much to handle. I hug her and I kiss her. We fuck. Then we get dressed and go to Gert’s. She and Anna are discussing politics. I fart my arrival. They rush to the door so fast that Anna trips and bumps her head. There’s blood flowing from her ears. She passes out pissing herself. Gert panics. It’s too much to handle so we leave. I am not sure about those memories.

The cyanotype is drying out on the table. UV lights affected the chemicals while you laid on it. I think of the dumb blonde bitch. She fucked my mouth with her mouth. I don’t know if it really existed. It was like latex. I need some sleep too after you wake up. A ghost of formalism has raped us in our sleep. While we were assumingly discussing economics. We have a lot of deep discussions nevertheless. We talk about Bojangles. Details of Bill Robinson’s early life are known only through legend. And much of it is perpetuated by Robinson himself. He claimed he was christened Luther. A name he did not like. He suggested to his younger brother Bill that they should exchange names. When Bill objected, Luther applied his fists. And the exchange was made. Now he is named Bill and his brother is Luther. I think you told me that already. The story is still inspiring though. You have to travel back to your city. It’s fine. DP you before you go. I would like to. We drink green tea together. After that you say bye bye like you mean it. We kiss then you zip away. Just woke up to you making your suitcase. You jiggle and gather your sheds, I take an afternoon nap. I have I stretch hello. I weigh your suitcase to see memories of it. Laurie takes me for a ride if it fits the security requirements. You’re in her ombré mint-green and lemon-yellow so full I doubt they’ll let you on board. A Cadillac hearse with wood interior and real girl steps in the bedroom like where are zebra seats. We stop every five minutes you going. You say this aventure was fun. because I have bad diarrhea. I kneel down You say you fly south. She says there are 43

a lot of negresses down south. You are mortified. The girl has left and I watch a video of you encouraged by women who chant for a new war while you sport two male slaves. The tizzy the men are drifting in. Everyone is set to your dub. Your revolution is on fire, hence all the burning in the background. The revolution explodes on your command and men fall on the ground on the immediate. There is sexualized movement under your organza as the men tremble. The clubs they’re gripping are useless. Light shines bright and then it shines brighter. There are tons of animals, I don’t know what they symbolize. A woman jumps out of her cage because you have arrived like a Messiah. With your crew you are strong like a tiger. You step out of the plane like MacArthur, there’s no other way to put it, you look gorgeous and everyone knows you’re a fighter. The vegetation there looks really nice. Oranges make the scene acid. Some people are here to greet you but you run up to them and snatch their badges, you rid them of their authority, the badges are on the heart’s side, it’s like you rib them of their hearts. Your tits I would like to be crushed between. I hope you are doing well there and that the weather is fine. You can write me postcards, it would be great. After you left, I went back to sleep. I love you. * Sitting in the designated smoking area outside of HNL I shed some tears while I take my last Wides drags before an almost 24 hour bore during which I would weep not of emotion but of mainly yawning and from looking too closely to the screen where Cast Away, United 93 44

and The Terminal would play soundlessly, offering me an inattentive yet precise reading of the abusive use of close-ups in contemporary cinema as well as the striking resemblance Tom Hanks holds with you in those moments you would smile and frown at the same time, before I would confusedly come to, realizing the drowse the codeine had me put in, unsure why you weren’t here next to me, or rather why in about less than twenty minutes I was about to land in CDG, both the airport and my comfy in-flight attire, where, according to my Parisian acquaintances who had just e-mailed me, cab drivers had went on a general strike. You said you loved me. The feeling is mutual. How you would miss me so much, and once my position secured and my seatbelt fastened I could immediately apprehend the feverish warmth in my chest that was indeed a feeling of notquite-rightness after seeing you zoom off in your Dodge Dakota, although I would gradually feel not so empty anymore as the miles-traveled would increase on the blue-background screen in front of me, the farther the time and distance would grow from you so would the missingyou in what struck me as the realization of the ever-so-true physicality of the geographical part between myself, there on the aircraft growing giddy and bloated, and what I could now only imagine as a back-to-your-daily-routine on your side, maybe already asleep, but nothing real is, well, real, when you’re jetting somewhere above the Pacific, or Atlantic I’m not sure of the route, certainly not what the time-at-departure means, and I kept wondering about the wait, until I would be busy with my chores here in Paris, until you would stop crying like a motherless

MADAME WANG 2.1 velvet not leather, of which I feel like I have scholarly studied every inch while we would make love. I will strip alone and lay down on my couch, one arm touching the floor, and I hope I cry when I am reminded by the cold wooden flooring, not relaxed carpet like you have at your place, that I am inevitably myself and not some sort of patty melt of you and me, sweat and all. I reckon sometimes it is a good thing to be hit on the head with such details that reassert our individualities.

boy in a manner I never had another way to describe than cute, whatever that implicates, until the next time I would be sitting next to you as you epically drove me around your city in which I felt kind of not tropical enough, whatever that means. Would you be drinking your tea very black and smoky as usual was my main concern as I downed two more mini bottles shortly before the inevitable landing bump and the sight of a grey sky that I had forgotten for the time I was with you, which now seemed far and removed from the lineups of conferences in the coming days Love always, that was the only thing on my mind when I exited the terminal still feverish from Jess the medecine I had come to habitually * ingurgitate while traveling. Fully beringed and my ears are Back at the house I guess I will pierced, my mouth has lipstick, my eyes be busy with all sorts of things. I hope have colored contact lenses, my pussy has it doesn’t smell too bad, I always forget your cock. I take all that off when I go to to ventilate unlike you, I remember you sleep, when alone; with you I leave it all smoking on your balcony, short exhausts on or in. that rise like the fog we saw from the car on our way to the airport. I cannot wait to You had told me these sorts of get home and unpack the wonderful little observations, maybe desires. You used to teapot you got me, which I hope hasn’t lie a lot too and I knew you were not being broke during the tedious travel, and make truthful but it made for more excitement some tea and moisturize myself, both and, this might also be a fable we told internally from the liquid and externally ourselves, but it made for more passion, from the steam hitting my face with and I dare use the word, passion, and each sip, and sit by myself on the couch, all that it implies. Whatever in the long dreamily, listening to all the records I run. Anyway the brain is not capable of took back from this very last trip, gulping discerning truth from everything else. on whatever free snack samples I took That’s also something you had told me. back from the flight, dreamily, mistaking You had said many things in many different the leather of the couch for your skin. places. I was at the counter and you were Of course your skin is smooth and lovely dancing with my friends and I read your and not nearly as dried-up as my couch, lips from across the lounge. I forgot what or my body after the long flight for that it was but it was nice. You were choosing matter, but I hope to attain that state of vegetables at the market, and I was too confusion, thinking of you and your couch, busy waking up while following you and 45

you would describe each mango. It was mostly the mango that would spark your interest. Now I am having people over for dinner. No one you know. The onions I was dicing made me cry while I was preparing the stew, then I got sad. Onions are delicate and I have to care for them and not crush them savagely. Tears precede the sadness in the same way your words came before the action. You would run up to the action and try to catch it. The milk from the onion proves my force de frappe. I bought the onions this morning at the same market you would drag me to. I mostly buy onion and garlic. I think about ownership. I think I own the onion because I can make it cry milk but the onion makes me cry. It goes both ways. It is the same with your earrings or your lipstick. We sail downstream for a nightcap. The meal grows heavy on our stomachs. We pump in all sorts of things to let the mix calm down. Some ingredients are soothing, not all of them. It’s always hard to find the right balance. The vodka is an upsetter. I think I hear a serenade but really it’s just my friends whispering to each other. They make a very good couple, aesthetically. They tell each other private words. She used to be a talented sucker before they met. I doubt he is patient enough to enjoy a good suck. I take the reigns of the boat. We sail towards what you used to call a haven. I was scared to lose my love for you but I couldn’t tell you I was because it would have changed you and made you into a more loveable version of you who wouldn’t be the you I was loving. I chose to lose my love than to love a different you. 46

I wanted to tell you how some things you would say made me love you less but I couldn’t because it would have made you say things differently and not speak your heart. You used to lie a lot. But being untruthful is different from being honest and that’s what you were with me, honest. You used to say we had very different lifestyles. I remember everything you told me. I always understood what you said. As for myself, it usually was harder to find the right words for you and I ended up drained. The image part is tricky too. I have replaced you with other images. Kate Moss shot by Bruce Weber in 1995. She is wearing a Pink Versace dress and is carrying a Holga. There’s a Arnold Schwarzenegger Terminator poster in the background. You were prettier than that. Kate Moss playing pool surrounded by kids. I don’t remember what magazine it was for. I don’t even remember what Kate Moss looks like. I picture a face but I’m not sure what it stands for. What’s left is the comparison, knowing you were beautiful and moreso than Kate Moss, only that relationship between you and Kate Moss, but I don’t really know what you and Kate Moss represent, and that makes me sad. You used to say I should learn to talk about my emotions and be open, and here we are. The things I think about make me mad. I know you were healthier than Kate Moss. She was probably wealthier than you. I know I felt the worst hatred at some point, either with you or looking at the Bruce Weber pictures, but I don’t remember what the worst hatred felt like. It was a long time ago. I have now become a metaphor of myself. My friends think highly of me. They appreciate the

way I welcome them to my coziness. They apreciate the haven I take them to. There is not a lot to see but the lukewarm wind is a perfect digestif. They like it here. We will stay the night.


Near the end it will be very calm. The ambiance is that which immediately succeeds dusk. I will be waiting for an earthquake. I want to wait for an earthquake. We like to get some momentum going on. I have everything I need. My portable iced tea is chilled to perfection. We sit in a circle. They talk about you. I lie down and I play with my gold necklace. Somebody passes the pipe. Forgive me. Love always, The last thing you had told me.



































MADAME WANG 2.1                                                                            ​The Curtain Is Open                                                   Please don't not Forgive me                                                 Just watched a Butterfly Sleep                                                                           **   



Part 1 ­ In Bed I am mostly                                                 The Disappointment of my Patients                                                                                ....         **A candle flickers in Cell 4                 Description: We enter in The Darkest Of The Hour, there are portraits turned over in the  Corridors...  Also, there are numerous end points leading to various Chambers which the viewer may see  upon looking closely...  Meadows1 contains what has been known as the ​Strong Storms Blowing Winds Window  Curtain At Night                                                             ­Searching Corridors is nearly personal­       (Somewhere in the background Meadows2 starts playing "We Are The Mirrors Of Your Love") 


MADAME WANG 2.1                           As the Epilogue comes to a beginning slowly we are gathering                    Patience...                                     


DAY 9  They say to draw the hands properly   Corresponding to their given numbers  yet I can’t find the Courage  much of many wall tremors are felt it is rumored  if U stand awake in the Shadow Garden at certain coordinates   Some have claimed to feel the Lonely Glove   caress I am never tired but my hands grow weary  often there are flashes of Meadows and we are various scenes together      (...observed near the Specimen is the brick thrown through the window followed by a feeling  Oft Ward)                             Note: here the curtain is trembling, soon *replacements will be made 


MADAME WANG 2.1                                 DAY 13  The sirens are wailing  Webcam1 is turned on and I watch the ship still on its side  Night is always on                                DAY 34  Hunting through the Corridors, hope fulfilled  peace of mind, good thoughts; become clearer and better, with an open Hearth  full of love and light of The Night   and accompany us throughout life, always! we'll take good care of them  We will return....   


**the scroll is still intact                                                                             Part 2 ­ Realms I loved so well                                                               The Disappointed House                                                                  (Contained in Cell 4)                                                "In time grows the most passionate of flowers"                                       


MADAME WANG 2.1                 DAY 59  Meadows1 has fully disintegrated   O how I had lost count...  Somehow *replacements can't be taken   for Lifecycles   of the Comfort Oft our own                                            **(weeping, kindly): ​Certainly we know that they all diminish   yet this feels premature...sometimes this is more evident  contained in the restrictions of the Shadow Garden.     **(smiling, Courage):​ The tracings had found some evidence sealed under the rock...still lying  on its side with a handprint over it....   


Scene Change Melody (to be sung in Strong Hearth):  "​it was an important moment,  and in Time, have succeeded  As we discussed,  to put more bricks and so exalted.  But beware!  take care of it! Whenever you can break down!  So great attention!  It's much easier to break something than to build   And...it would be a shame...."    (repeat chorus)                                                             


MADAME WANG 2.1                                                                        ….      The most remembered I can grasp are the floral *arrangements in Corridors itself. Such  wonderful depictions   have hung alongside to preserve our Ultimate Character, in caring  please do not forget;  Our life is a *reflection of our own actions  If you want more love around you, create more love around  If you want happiness, gives happiness to those around you  If you want a smiling Hearth, gives a smile in the  Hearth of those they meet                                  **As we slowly turn towards the window we see a Fallen Petal from before                             


Excerpt: I’m walking in the Garden at Shadow Before Dawn (some speculate that this is Night  itself)    I am reminded of many things  in the Waiting Room    Ward's coordinates were mostly safe  Shown, he was found in the samples of the Loss Thread                                                      **Time loses meaning 


MADAME WANG 2.1 DAY 104  Deeply Wounded                                                                                            **          (The candle perishes, now extinct)        Slowly Singing: ​Prologue ­ To Good Friends          




















Profile for Madame Wang

Madame Wang 2.1  

MADAME WANG Journal for geo-distributed collaboration. issue 2.1 ordinarySOCIETY Erin Baillie-Rutter, Naoki Sutter Shudo, Ryan Trecartin, Ri...

Madame Wang 2.1  

MADAME WANG Journal for geo-distributed collaboration. issue 2.1 ordinarySOCIETY Erin Baillie-Rutter, Naoki Sutter Shudo, Ryan Trecartin, Ri...


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