A hand-made puppet and fictional narrative inspired by esoteric messages included in some of my spam email from 2004 to 2008, put together as a video and text for the March issue of Slack Lust magazine.
Here is the text in case you'd like to read along:
"There is no law against that! The Stainless Steel Rats in the flesh! I am trebly blessed!
I took another sip of water, wished that it was a stronger liquid.
We are free of here. You are the products of a society that is
Blowing up slowing up showing up to kill, punched deep into your mind, into your subconscious. You were being right - so lets not waste any of it.
Our welcome has worn out around you to undertake what can only be called a rather diligent and complete control.
The lizard lips bent into a frigid smile.
I know that, mon Amiral, because this artifact emits tachyons and I
much bigger, wider, stronger than I was. But no, he wasn't a legend.
Your assignment here. You are all volunteers and I would like to thank,
like you say.
Now you give. Nothing could be done. Here it can. For I am Svinjar - and Svinjar can.
No longer a musical fan, Ljotur? I said, climbing slowly to my sinkhole we were being dropped into. I had another question. Floyd watched him go, tootling a little march in time with his had to heal, tissue had to mend, fatigue had to be alleviated: joy!
I sat upwind of him because it had been a long time since he or before vanished among the trees around the lake. None returned.
You better have a good reason for that.
Follow instructions and your passage will be made that much easier . .
to.
I think that we have had enough of fighting, walking, everything.
I'm glad it was you, Professor. Been fun working with you.
I blew, which did nothing to clear the air. As I recall, I recalled this battle, on these terms. But he was still dangerous. Almost by hinges flexible arms lifted straight up, stretched out and fell instantly to sleep.
Floyd helped me to my feet and dusted me off. So good so far.
Above spirit low, near. Wait his condition. Cause ye heart, me strong.
O persons observed might kindness she's held.
The married, standing not aware itself. Truth spoke near angry till at least family moved proud. Easy youth friends of art think after seeing human stopped.
Appear as a creature welcomed, open a door and found those telling. Usually together you know to call and ask the fortune servant to see, and find sleep person at the road, at the gate. Temper him.
Here trees upon forth.
Difficulty creature thoughts. There is an opposite condition. You asked directions, I promised knowledge until silently cast thrown girl. Noise opposite, smile, appearance. Loss. Fact, if single beautiful ways might call three.
Much is presently touched.
Sense those words, order dead taste, those dear legs sometimes through wonder. Upon marriage. Yes of affection for appearance.
Servant, leave eyes person did, single state died. It's family, public doing, water smiling as family. Sharp box. There's beyond promise, mere enough. This half common strength the several be. Money too has countenance. Grew scarcely. Scarcely answered, women notice.
I pain passion. Window. Certainly appeared often. Surely school show boys above public tongue position. Wait.
What servant strong, married, found much, thee, new, oh, repeated especially.
The prettiest waltzer at the post, none the less gay for being dignified. However, the young people, except Anita, revenged themselves by doing, in their own drawing-rooms, all the prohibited dances.
With Anita, nothing could have induced her to do anything forbidden by the beloved of her heart - a trait not without its dangers.
Broussard was treated as a hero by everybody at the post and enjoyed it
extremely, in spite of his deprecation of all praise and declaring that
Game Chick was the real hero.
Among the festivities was a big dinner given at the fine quarters to the officers of high rank at the fort, and as a special compliment Broussard was invited, the only bachelor officer except the serious Cowboy, Colonel Fortescue's aide, who classified Anita with the after-clap in point of age.
Broussard had met Anita and danced with her many times that fortnight but, with native good taste, he avoided thrusting himself upon her. She was so calm, so well poised, that Broussard concluded.
She had forgotten all about the words spoken under the influence of the
near presence of love and death. In truth, Anita had forgotten nothing,
but had suddenly become a woman in those few days. Always Broussard had wakened her girlish admiration by his charm of manner, his sly impudence, his way of singing love songs; and her eyes followed him, while she turned away."
Loading...
13:06
Honor thy Mother and Fatherby pmb00377 views
Link to this comment:
All Comments (0)