Thursday, December 14, 2017

Negation Aspiration vol. 88

(yah we're skipping ahead here cause well y'knowlawl)

This Is The Daily Stormer’s Playbook

A leaked style guide reveals they’re Nazis about grammar (and about Jews).

Wednesday, December 13, 2017

Awwww Yeah vol. 74

Among us, it seems, lives a class of men who call to mind Caligula and Elagabalus not only in their depravity, but in their grotesque sense of impunity. Our debauched emperors, whether enthroned in Hollywood, media front offices, or the halls of Congress, truly imagined their victims had no choice but to shut up, take it, and stay silent forever. Many of these men are so physically disgusting, too—the thought of them forcing themselves on young women fills me with heaving disgust. Enough already.
All true; yet something is troubling me. Recently I saw a friend—a man—pilloried on Facebook for asking if #metoo is going too far. “No,” said his female interlocutors. “Women have endured far too many years of harassment, humiliation, and injustice. We’ll tell you when it’s gone too far.” But I’m part of that “we,” and I say it is going too far. Mass hysteria has set in. It has become a classic moral panic, one that is ultimately as dangerous to women as to men.

The #MeToo moment has now morphed into a moral panic that poses as much danger to women as it does to men.

U.S.A.! U.S.A.! vol. 119

Conservatives blame Steve Bannon for turning Alabama blue

Saturday, December 9, 2017

NERRRRRRRRD! vol. 65 / U.S.A.! U.S.A.! vol. 118


Look, we all want to watch Avengers and X-Men fight, but this Disney-Fox merger still sucks


yeah sure, it's a grotesquely unethical media monopoly, a creative-inhibiting stricture, and a ruthless narrowing of outlets... but as long as stupid nerds get more stupid nerd junk, who cares, right?

i'm confidant in my abilities to find the proverbial "good shit", so i don't depend on the Disney Factory for my entertainment fixes, but stories like this just don't excite me, and what may or may not not come out of this morose coupling of corporate entities, (whose influence and presence is already beyond-the-pale ubiquitous and monstrously overvalued) does not stimulate my imagination toward anything fruitful or positive.

i'm not 10 years old anymore. back then i might have given a fuck if Wolverine and the Hulk could be in the same cinematic universe, but with the benefit of hindsight i can say with an assured abundance of confidence that no on-screen interaction would recreate the monster-mash joy i felt seeing them tangle on the cover of a Len Wein scripted Herb Trimpe illustrated comic book, and any attempt would be little more than a callow re-staging, devoid of the image's initial impact. but i digress...


point is, i'm not really that anxious to see every property under one umbrella, and i'm eternally weary of people who are so thirsty to be hermetically sealed in childhood queries of who might win a fight between Darth Vader and Doctor Doom that they'd be willing to give up even more of their already scarce freedom of choice.

now that i think this over... i'm barely interested in these properties under separate umbrellas. i mean, are there still people hard up for more Predator or Alien movies? i was sick of Rocket Raccoon about 3 seconds into the opening credits of Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 2.

i'm more interested in what A24 planned for the future, or where Black Mask Studios is headed.

fucking geeks.

Wednesday, December 6, 2017

Awwww Yeah vol. 73 / Negation Aspiration vol. 82

“He would always talk about his girlfriend and how beautiful she was. He would show us the nice dresses he bought for her but we never got to meet her,” expressed his mother in tears.



Son Of Funeral Home Owner Accused Of Building Sex Doll Out Of Dead Body Parts

“The suspect has made claims that he assisted members of a satanic cult to have sexual intercourse with a number of dead bodies in exchange for money,” said Police Officer, Alan Clayborn.

Tuesday, December 5, 2017

U.S.A.! U.S.A.! vol. 117

A major reason not to take The Big Lie seriously is D’Souza himself. By mainstream standards, D’Souza’s career has been a comical embarrassment. D’Souza first found notoriety while an undergraduate at Dartmouth, where the student publication he edited outed members of the Gay Student Alliance. He became a prominent conservative pundit with his book Illiberal Education, but by the 2000s he had, in the words of Vanity Fair, “eaten away at his respectability in intellectual circles” with extreme and often bizarre claims. He blamed 9/11 on Hollywood liberals, saying that Osama bin Laden was primarily motivated by a hatred of Western sexual decadence, an argument that put off conservatives with its implication that bin Laden shared their values. His The Roots of Obama’s Rage argued that Barack Obama was a conduit for his father’s radical anti-colonial politics, with the “philandering, inebriated, African socialist [Obama, Sr.] now setting the nation’s agenda through the reincarnation of his dreams in his son.” Even the conservative Weekly Standard called this “lunacy.” Further embarrassments followed. In 2012, he was forced to resign as president of a Christian college after allegations of adultery. In 2013, D’Souza recorded an infomercial for pop-up Christmas trees. And in 2014, he pled guilty to a felony campaign finance violation, spending 8 months at a halfway house. (D’Souza alleged political persecution by the Obama administration, tweeting: “MLK was targeted by J. Edgar Hoover, an unsavory character; I was targeted by the equally unsavory B. Hussein Obama.”

WHO ARE THE REAL NAZIS?

Is it the Democrats? No. It’s still the Nazis.

Awwww Yeah vol. 72: the 2017 Shame Train of REM Sleep Kissy Kissys

LIST 2
LIST 3

i won't prostrate beatitudes: 2017 was all shrunken dicks and parched cunts; an erogenous dead zone of coffin-ready libidos being ravaged by a series of ballistic viral outbreaks (although some seemed either stricken with these infections in the psychosomatic sense [if not deliberately fallacious], others a victim of a Munchhausen  Proxy authored by Andrea Dworkin.. but i digress).

In spite of the unspoken sexual mass suicide pact, my appetites remain in tact; poppin cocks poppin rocks and so forth. I became even more determined to provide Fallopian grist for the Testicular mills, carnal instigators announcing themselves in the most unexpected, and even banal, areas of culture and entertainment.

if 2017 was the year of the organ-killer, lets make 2018 the year we raise the cunting dead.

recommended listening

this inadvertent herald of terrestrial devouring ashtray goblins, Hailey Gates  costumed her stretched out alien beauty with methamphetamine throat singing and neglectful mothering... she's got real shit to do here, kid; warning the ether of its inevitable black-out.

this delightfully insensitive portrayal of mental illness is Nurse Rachet   , a cult favorite on the increasingly (and wonderfully) absurd indie-wrestling circuits. homeslice's entrance is being dragged to the ring in a body bag by a giant in a pig mask while the theme from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest serenades the crowd, emerging with a Strawberry Shortcake toy picnic basket labeled "Human Organs" fastened across a SARS mask. ATTN WWE: that's how you do a "women's revolution."

i've been captivated by Rebecca Hall ever since Iron Man 3, where Tony Stark's idiot scumbag status was confirmed when he chose that snarky pretentious bore Pepper Pots over this epitome of charm and radiance, so you can imagine my sketchy nihilistic giddiness when i heard Hall was going to star in the biopic of doomed news reporter Christine Chubbuck. Hall (and indeed everyone involved) did Chubbuck justice, further showcasing the annoying tendency the Marvel Universe has with regards to wasting true talents on thankless one-and-done roles.

now we get filthy with my #1 adult film star of the year; the sad-eyed heartbreaker known as Charlotte Sartre . you know that scene from the Simpsons where they go to the petting zoo and they see the succession of lambs, each one more adorable then the next? well, Sasha Grey is the first lamb (awwwwww), Stoya is the second lamb (Aaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwww), and Ms. Sartre is the thrid lamb (AAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!). although if Stoya crept up in front of Charlotte i doubt anyone who shove her aside saying "Outta the way, you!", but y'know...

i have no friggin idea who this silver-haired stunner is (getting this out of the way now; i fucking love silver hair. that coupled with those shirts with cut-out shoulders were easily the best fashion trends of the year). i spent a chunk of the year watching blocks of MTV Classic, and this commercial for the pay-to-play Christian Dream Killer known as eHarmony.com would be wedged between adds for pay-day lenders and that FlexSeal junk (deadbeats and gulla-bulls... MTV Classic knows its crowd, no?). I'm not entirely unconvinced that she isn't some Japanese authored algorithm based on what i'd hope to find on the bot-ridden thirst traps that are online dating sites.

David Simon's The Deuce was a gift from pervert heaven: prestige television about the birth of golden age smut. the series had no shortage of gorgeous, fascinating women of all kinds, but it was acerbic Lori as played by Emily Meade that really had me in the palm of her bewitchingly indifferent hands.

on the complete opposite end of the spectrum was Vice Principals put-upon-yet-unfailingly-chipper Ms. Swift, played by Ashley Spillers (how's that for a porno name eh?). i found myself not only attracted to her, but endlessly speculating on what i assume is a rich fantasy life, a locked storage space of unearthly delights where she makes me fish for the key.   

this real life Abby Arcane is Morgan Saylor as she appeared in Elizabeth Wood's White Girl, a morally ambiguous confidently rendered reappraisal of the no-good-kids-are-running-WILD films of the 90s indie boom (typified by the films of Larry Clark). the menace and the tension initially arises from Saylor's delicate exterior, but becomes more destructively evident when she walks away from the chaos her waifish pose leaves in its wake. oh hi, girl i obsessed over in high school... and college... and now.

if anyone had a much-needed career turning point this year, it was Aubrey Plaza, who finally outgrew the worn-out Daria Morgendorffer act and went full-bore into deranged, obsessive, manipulative sensuality with show-stopping schizo-aggressive performances in Legion (pictured) and Ingrid Goes West. 

and finally... the whole cast of G.L.O.W. is B.A.E. especially Isis Nile Jr. on the right. when she chastised her beau for shitting on grindhouse slasher films... Chubs Ahoy. 

Monday, December 4, 2017

We Are The Sprocket Holes vol. 334: Top DVD/Blu-Ray Releases of 2017

due to a chance encounter between a chain surge of bad luck and increasing outside tensions straining to be addressed, much of this year was spent alone on my end of things, going from my room to my job, with next to no creative fulfillment or social interludes to rupture the monotony, any number of attempts either stopping dead in their tracks or gaining no traction at all. how i dealt with this spinning of the wheels is to throw up my hands and let myself sink into my hobbies, mentally reemerging for work and to excrete some literary drippings that for the past year have taken the form of a "novel". now that this nadir epoch draws to a superficial close, i've composed 4 year end lists that i hope serve as not only a gracious thank you to the people who brought me some modicum of peace through this nauseatingly depressing time, but also as an appendix for the chaos i semi-involuntarily chose to internalize. hope yo get some value out of them, and i'll do my best to keep the remaining word counts to a minimum. 
- N.


eating your way out of The Solar Anus. 


cream of some young fungi from Yuggoth 


deconstructing deconstruction. 


aka The Moors Murders Down Under 


huh huh huh... "Fingersmith" 


it's amazing how much comics, films, and television mined 2000ad for talent and ideas, and that a lot of those ideas are now seeping into the real world. all known current realities should cut Pat Mills fat checks forever.


the icy sadism to Singapore Sling's fevered hedonism. 


the dream journal of a sheltered meth-addicted oil heir 


as humane a study on the effects of clinical depression as you'll ever find, never giving in to illness fetishism or callow histrionics. 


cruel, insensitive, grotesque, problematic, vicious, hurtful... an anathema to humanism. a grime-caked palate cleanser for all who are tired of being told that art must be omni-inclusive or else. choke on a floor dog. 

Negation Aspiration vol. 81

'We think there are many, many more': Florida 'cult leader' charged with murder of toddler

Sunday, December 3, 2017

NERRRRRRRRD! vol. 64: the 2017 FBI Watch List Book Club Recommendations

due to a chance encounter between a chain surge of bad luck and increasing outside tensions straining to be addressed, much of this year was spent alone on my end of things, going from my room to my job, with next to no creative fulfillment or social interludes to rupture the monotony, any number of attempts either stopping dead in their tracks or gaining no traction at all. how i dealt with this spinning of the wheels is to throw up my hands and let myself sink into my hobbies, mentally reemerging for work and to excrete some literary drippings that for the past year have taken the form of a "novel". now that this nadir epoch draws to a superficial close, i've composed 4 year end lists that i hope serve as not only a gracious thank you to the people who brought me some modicum of peace through this nauseatingly depressing time, but also as an appendix for the chaos i semi-involuntarily chose to internalize. hope yo get some value out of them, and i'll do my best to keep the remaining word counts to a minimum. 
- N.
LIST 1

ANSWER ME! All Four Issues by Jim and Debbie Goad

before he became seemingly content with catering to easily sated aging shitlords who think reading Pat Buchanan books in Craft Bars constitutes a subversive act, Goad's writing was sharp, deadly, and right in the thick of the disagreeable maelstroms that became victimized by the wrath of his vicious intellect and scathing literacy. 25 years later and there are few that can match the intensity of this omnibus.

GAG by Grant Maierhofer  

 a sequence of rotting doors / mild suburban hell / rooms lorded over by men of obscenity / a blighted novella /sister book to PX138 3100-2686 User’s Manual / a little limb, little dog / bodies trapped in basements / leather, plastic, film / pile of burnt manuscripts / Antonin Artaud’s body writhing on an asylum floor / the outside world of light and terrors / 



Giving Godhead by Dylan Krieger

fearless and aggressive... winking and playful...

The Incest Diary by Anonymous

a real-life Secret Diary of Laura Palmer 

Kiddiepunk Collected 201-2015 

featuring new works by Dennis Cooper, Thomas Moore, Peter Sotos, and others.

Kill All Normies by Angela Nagle

Nagle does the lord's work here; producing a dense guide to the multiplying labyrinth of viral psychosis that has devoured internet discourse and now has its sights set on binge-eating at the adult's table.
LiarTown: The First Four Years by Sean Tejaratchi 

funniest book i've read all year. FFO Vernon Chatman, Scarfolk.

Mountainhead by New Juche

Juche became my new favorite writer almost instantly, insuring that position here with this bodily fluid grimed travelogue.

Paperbacks from Hell by Grady Hendrix 

lovingly recreates the feeling i had when i was around six or seven and my mother would be combing the book aisle at Caldor, not realizing that my brain was becoming home to the images that lept from the utterly bizarre horror novel covers of that time period.

Slash of the Titans: The Road to Freddy vs. Jason by Dustin McNeill 

proof that, more often than not, the journey is infinitely more fascinating and rich than the destination, McNeill compiles a dossier of the false starts that handicapped the inevitable meeting of the 1980s most recognizable icons, providing the reader a glimpse of what the film might've been had money and fanboys not interceded.