A Blog of Remixes of Exceptional Quality

ELECTRICAL DISCHARGES

2010-05-07T12:17:00.005-05:00

EXT. SCHOOLYARD – NIGHT

 

Gradually, a cat behind a chain-link fence dollies
forward—its cat-rattle is audible even beyond the
neighborhood of shadows. The cat enters a purple
light facing a yard of human clutter.

 

Sudden electrical discharges silence the cat.

 

EXT. SCHOOLYARD – NIGHT (CON’T)

 

The cat stands slowly.

 

The cat stands empty of sound, scanning his
surroundings.

 

His hair no longer covers his skin. His body feels
depthless.

 

With graceful precision, he walks away from the
light.

 

He glances at a kneeling man.

 

CRANE SHOT – SCHOOLYARD/CITY – NIGHT

 

The man approaches the cat in the darkness beyond
the human yard.

 

The night cloud looms above the cityscape.

 

A thunderstorm approaches.

 

The man stands gazing down at the naked cat.

 

EXT. PLAYGROUND – NIGHT

 

The man and the cat are lounging on a deserted
jungle gym.

 

A punk youth notices the man and the cat.

 

PUNK YOUTH

Hey, nice cat.

 

MAN

This cat is not like others.

 

PUNK YOUTH

Huh?

Without warning, the cat opens its eyes. Its knife
eyes close and open. Close and open.

 

The punk youth’s eyes are motionless. The punk youth
and the cat exchange glances.

 

Stumbling backwards, the punk youth steps into a shadow.

 

PUNK YOUTH

Fuck you, cat!

 

With blinding speed, the cat closes in. Its veins
force out from its skin. Its eyes are wet and wide.
So reptilian—it ducks back and jerks forward.

 

The cat peals away the punk youth. Dancing, the cat
and the punk youth drop to the ground. The cat tiptoes
away from a heap of twitching human.

 

MAN

Nothing clean, right, cat?

 

The man and the cat slide into a streetlight. They
drop so easily.

 

Thunder punches the sky. Liquid punches the ground.

 

EXT. STREET / NEARBY – NIGHT

 

A ground-pool emerges. Shaking, the cat sits under
the streetlight.

 

Rain streams down the man’s coat.

 

The man and the cat do not blink in the rain. They
sit coldly.

 

EXT. DOWNTOWN / STREET ALLEY – NIGHT

 

A purple shockwave paints over the man and the cat.

 

The man feels angry and filthy.

 

The cat feels angry and filthy.

 

The cat hurls onto the pavement.

 

A dead rat glistens in the rain. The man rises—stands
above the dead rat.

 

The purple shockwave lights up the city.

 

The traffic moves slowly.

 

The cat drops into a muddy pool.

 

The man blinks, amazed. He crouches down beside
the motionless cat. Electrical burns cover the
naked-muscled cat.

 

The cat fades slowly in the rain. The wet sound
will be replaced by the hissing of another cat.

 

The man returns to the motionless punk youth and
begins stripping off his clothes.

 

The man puts on the punk youth’s clothes.

 

The hissing city glistens as the man returns to
the shadows.

 

He feels out of frame.



from James Cameron's Terminator script by
P. Edward Cunningham

Ate When I Felt Sad

2010-04-30T19:00:00.007-05:00

It was time to leave, so I did. I packed three black trash
bags with clothes and six cardboard boxes with books. I put
them in my car and drove. There were other things in the car
too. I looked at them. The car was silent, then there was music.
I turned off the music. I felt nothing, thought nothing. Time
passed, and I looked at my rearview mirror. Three black trash
bags, six cardboard boxes. I looked at all the things in my car.
There were so many things in my car. My car looked strange
somehow. There were little things, indistinguishable sorts of
things. Ahead I saw a tollbooth. I pulled over, rolled down my
window, and leaned out, handing two dollars to the man inside.
“Thank you,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said. I drove further, over a bridge. I turned
on the radio again, and there was music. And then there wasn’t.
Not long after, I reached Philadelphia. I drove through the city
slowly, looking at a map I’d printed out, then back to the road.
Street signs. I pulled over to the side of the road and
parked. I called Jim. “Hey man, I’m outside.” I looked out
the window. The sky was gray. It was blank, simple. I felt
pretty good. Jim came out of the apartment, and I rolled down
my window. I waved, “Hey Jim.”

“Hey Robert.” He walked over to the window. “You want some
help moving your stuff in?”

“That’d be great,” I said. I felt comfortable, conscious, touching
my hair with a zen-like deliberateness. I moved around.

***

Later, I lay in Alison’s bed, listening to an old Death Cab for
Cutie record. Alison walked in. She was wearing only a towel,
her hair wet; she sat down next to me on the bed. I touched her
leg and smiled. Alison smiled.

***

Six months passed. Winter was approaching, and I rode my bike
to a Chinese restaurant. I locked it to a parking meter and
walked inside. “Table for one please,” I said to the hostess.
She walked me to an empty table, and I sat down. I ordered a
small dish and some tea. I sipped the tea, waiting for the
waitress to return. I felt nothing, thought nothing. I walked
to the bathroom and urinated. The waitress brought me food,
which I ate quickly. I paid the check and left. Outside, I
thought about Chinese food. I knew I shouldn’t eat it. I felt
good while I ate Chinese food. I always felt bad later. I biked
to the library and wandered around, staring at the books on the
shelves. I picked up a book of short stories by Martin Amis.
I read a couple, sitting alone on a chair in the stacks. Martin
Amis, I thought. What the fuck. I stared at the cover for
several seconds before returning the book to its shelf. Outside
winter felt closer than ever. Back home I took I took a shower
and lay down in bed. Okay, I thought. I lay there for some time.

from Zachary German's "Eat When You Feel Sad," remixed by David Fishkind

The Throb Slob

2010-04-24T19:00:00.000-05:00


Uh whoa yeah
so devilish

she likes / What guys talk about
Not just urban


You know
all the ladies
know another

guys
couldn't handle it


I
know

when the beat goes
to dance at all the / dumps


in ya

in life / Uh

like what
like connect

I like it / sing it again

And ya / Uh
move your butt

All night long
think to 
finer things

Let me see that
Cuz she was livin
shakin

a truck
the pop

She had
to sing it
cruise to
la vida


Check it out
da na da na / loca

I know you wanna
dress so scandalous

from sisqo by michael hessel-mial

Why Breakfast?

2010-04-10T19:58:00.003-05:00




It's Simple.
Implosion degradation that shells unravel breakfast,
like the Kellogg's Special Fractal®,
weighing counter-polyforces.    `.
It's multiplying at it's core, good for you.
... Just like Special Relativity®

When you envelop dark matter:
a serving of split atoms, fortified with vitamins
and lead residue,
you'll be inverting a satisfying continuum that has
less than 250 calories of energy expenditure,
and can help you crack voids.
When you wake up zoning out
to negative space and duplicity,
try Kellog's Special Mass Inversion®.


So, what's the difference between a morning
and a good morning?

Original Emptiness®.


from a special k box

by Kevin Dunfey

A resettling of the first paragraph of The Catcher in the Rye

2010-03-12T05:51:00.002-06:00

If you really want to hear about it,
hear about it,

the first thing you you’ll want to know to know to hear from me and all that kind of crap. Touchy as hell. Touching. Touch this. All that stuff and there is Christmas. There is my father. There is my brother and he’s got a Jaguar. He’s in Hollywood. He is Hollywood. He comes and visits and there is next month and all this goddam stuff.

I want to know the truth. I want to tell you the truth. If you really want to know the truth. If you really want to hear something. If you really want to hear about all this crap. My brother is D.B. and he has a car. He has four thousand dollars. He’s got a lot of dough. D.B. My brother and there is next month and Christmas and all that stuff.

He drives me home I drive me home I am home.

There is no home. I am home. My home is father and brother and all that. If you really want to know the truth. If you really want to hear about all that. I don’t feel like going into it. This house. My home. This crumby place. He comes to visit me, Christmas and my brother and his Jaguar and he has a father. My father.

There is not this my home, house,
if you really want to hear about it.

He didn’t used to, my brother, be my brother. The first things
you’ll probably want to know are about me. The first things

you’ll probably want to know are all the things I won’t tell you. Won’t even mention. I just wrote this terrific book of short stories. The best short stories. I don’t want to tell you about them. They are pretty personal to tell you the truth.

Come out here and take it easy, let them drive you home. I have a father and a brother and a home. I don’t have a home. I’m not going to go into my whole goddam autobiography if you want to know the truth about it. I don’t want to.

I am run down, pretty run down and all that crap, lousy childhood and all that stuff, I don’t want to go into it. I mean he comes over and there is Christmas and next month and maybe next month, the Jaguar and the money, the dough, I don’t want to go into it at all to tell you the truth.

All these things I hate. I hate to mention.
Take a listen,

if you really want to hear about it.
Listen.

from The Catcher in the Rye remixed by j.a. tyler

Decontextualized Barthes quote

2010-02-25T13:35:00.001-06:00




a x 4
all x 2
and x 2
are x 1
as x 1
be x 1
but x 2
by x 1
drawn x 1
field x 1
from x 1
he x 1
holds x 1
in x 3
is x 9
its x 2
lies x 1
lost x 1
made x 1
make x 1
not x 2
of x 4
on x 1
one x 1
place x 2
said x 1
space x 1
text x 2
text's x 1
that x 3
the x 9
them x 1
there x 1
this x 2
thus x 1
up x 1
was x 1
where x 1
which x 2
who x 1
yet x 1

any x 2
author x 1
being x 1
cannot x 1
cultures x 1
focused x 1
inscribed x 1
into x 1
longer x 1
many x 1
reader x 3
revealed x 1
simply x 1
single x 1
someone x 1
total x 1
traces x 1
without x 2
written x 1
writing x 2
writings x 1

dialogue x 1
entering x 1
existence x 1
history x 1
hitherto x 1
multiple x 1
mutual x 1
origin x 1
quotations x 1
parody x 1
personal x 1
relations x 1
together x 1
unity x 1

biography x 1
constituted x 1
contestation x 1
destination x 2
psychology x 1

multiplicity x 1

--Roland Barthes, “La Mort de l’auteur”

by Jim Benz

Baby, I'm Scared of You

2010-02-09T02:57:00.002-06:00

You tell me you’re in love with me

You wonder why I’m so shy

I’m scared of you

Trust me

I don’t want to be alone with you

I wanna run

I wanna hide

Sometimes you come too close

Sometimes you hold too tight

You tell me you’re in love with me

You tell me you can’t take your eyes away from me

Baby, I’m scared of you

Baby, I don’t want your eyes

You tell me you want to move slow

I don’t wanna stay

I wanna move away

Baby, I’m scared of you

There’s somewhere I’d rather be

Away from you, day and night

Away from you, baby

I want to be alone

from Britney Spear's sometimes remixed by Greg Santos

i have like 2 audiomasturbatingmaterialthings/moan

2010-01-28T16:19:00.003-06:00

i wear my cowboy boots and spread my legs
as wide as the back of my car lets me
i pull my hair and make you want me
your fingers are in my mouth
you hate it when i forget about you
when you finger me
i can’t do anything right
i help you finger-bang me
and you think i’m narcissistic
you help me love myself
you want to feel my pussy
i feel you when i press my crotch against your cock
i feel a boner inside me and fuck myself
i think about girls when i go down
you feel me and put your fingers in my mouth
you move up and touch my stomach with your hard cock
i grab it and say tasting testing one two three
i lick and laugh and feel surrounded by cars
you grab my ass
you close my pussy with your cock
it rains when i’m on my knees
you’re mine when i think about your boner

from i touch myself by ana c.

naughty remixxmas

2009-12-25T16:23:00.003-06:00

from little drummer boy

They told me I am a poor boy
I played my drum
I played my best
They told me I am a poor boy
Me and my drum
I played my best
They nodded
They smiled
They told me I am poor boy
I nodded
I am little baby
I have no gift to bring
I am a little poor boy, a little lamb, a little baby

by Crispin Best

the candy whip knows it's christmas

Feed the world
underneath that burning sun
There's no need to be afraid
we can spread wide open

But say a prayer, you've been bad
Throw your arms around
it's hard, but when you're having fun
Feed / the bitter sting

Feed the world / of tears

It's Christmastime
No rain nor rivers flow
but leathers

Do they know / a smile of joy

we banish / the other ones
the clanging chimes

Feed the slave your boot
At Christmastime

we let in light / we banish your tears

from do they know it's christmas by michael hessel-mial

next year i could be just as good

santa baby
come and decorate
my ass with your beard

santa i’m horny
hurry down my chimney

tonight show me your dick
on skype or i’ll stop
believing in you

a/s/l? prove
you're real

from santa baby by ana c.

I GaGa

2009-12-11T23:13:00.002-06:00

I ugly

I horror

I psycho

I leather studded

I criminal

I don’t wanna love

I don’t wanna be free

I want revenge

Ooh la la

Je veux crazy

from lady gaga's bad romance by greg santos

Presenting Osama Ghoul

2009-11-13T09:38:00.003-06:00

WUTHERING HEIGHTS

after the definition of "ejaculate" from the Urban Dictionary

ejaculate cum jizz semen sperm sex penis orgasm skeet masturbate
ejaculation vagina spunk come spooge facial dick splooge nut pussy
load cock blowjob fuck shit squirt masturbation jerk off anal cream
wank jism cumshot jack off bust a nut jiz face gay porn blow money
shot bust climax head oral bukkake masterbate blow job bitch poop cunt

a) To eject swiftly.
b) To utter suddenly.
c) To blow a full-on shed-full of baby-batter out of your jap's eye.

d) The pilot ejaculated from the aircraft just before the point of collision.
e) "Oh!" RC Miller ejaculated, "That came as a surprise."
f) RC Miller has just ejaculated into your mother's vaginal crevice.

2. ejaculate
Used as a verb in a sexual context: to expel a thick, white, gooey
fluid called semen from the hole at the tip of a man's penis. To cum,
to spooge, to bust a nut, etc. When used as a noun, ejaculate can also
refer to said thick, white, gooey fluid.

The aftermath of an
ejaculation is sometimes referred to as an Explosion at the Yogurt Factory.
example:
After she had made RC Miller ejaculate, Jenna's face looked like she had
been in an explosion at the yogurt factory.

ejaculate spooge cum bust a nut skeet

3. ejaculate
To cum; the process of cumming

4. ejaculate
To emit semen from the penis, usually during the climax of masturbation.
example:
RC Miller ejaculates when he thinks about the beautiful Jenna.

5. ejaculate
An event brought on if you gesticulate, fellate, titillate or agitate
near your prostate.
example:
RC Miller found it easier to ejaculate with the assistance of a trained professional.

6. ejaculate
Modern definition: When RC Miller's penis excretes semen during sex.

Older Definition: To shout
Modern: If you or your partner ejaculates during unprotected sex, you
or they have a chance of getting pregnant.

Older: 'Wretched inmates!' I ejaculated, mentally, 'you deserve
perpetual isolation from your species for your churlish
inhospitality.'
-Birdless Lightning by RC Miller

wuthering heights ejaculates/ejaculated semen on emily bronte

from wuthering heights by emily bronte and other sources remixed by Osama Ghoul

i'm not a cow

2009-11-06T09:33:00.002-06:00

i love you like a cow but i'm a wildcat
you're a worm giving up
we're taking turns and we aren’t safe

i love you all over the place
all over my sweaty city
my city is a wildcat

when i love you like a cow
i'm covered in sludge
so stop chasing me
it isn't safe

i'm chasing worms
because i'm alone in an expired city

i'm giving up because you’re a worm

based on wildcat by be your own pet, by ana c

Presenting Greg Santos

2009-10-23T12:05:00.004-05:00

How the Poet Laureate Spends His Days

All I do these drawn-out days

is sit in my kitchen at Pheasant Ridge

In my upholstered chair by a window

with dusk pouring into my room,

I appeared to be doing nothing

I sat in an armchair in the living room

and turned the pages without a clue

when suddenly I found myself lying on a couch

where I closed my eyes

Instead of choosing one thing over another,

I would do nothing

I decided as I lay down on the carpet

I had nothing to do

is it my job simply to sit as still

as the glass of water on the night table

then I walked out into the blackened woods

and sat on a rock

And who cares if it takes me all day

to write a poem

I was never the smartest monkey on the block

A cento made from poems from Ballistics by Billy Collins

What, Me Worry?

today i empathized with the top of a tower

i’ve been looking at the screen for a long time

you are a goldfish and i am alienated

do not let me alienate you because i am small and afraid

just

a crumpled ball of paper

some inconceivable crisis thing

a calm, melodramatic, silent apocalypse

from brandon scott gorrell

To Whom It May Concern,

I went to the grocery store today.

I made the man at the grocery store nervous.

My mom called me.

No one cares about poetry.

Probably going to die alone.

I want to write a poem with you.

from Ellen Kennedy

greg santos blogs here

Fucking

2009-10-16T11:20:00.003-05:00

presented by dj berndt

from closer by trent reznor

Help me like an animal
You tear down my everything
Help me like an animal
It's your absence I can smell
Help me like an animal
You make me isolated

I want to fuck God

Help me like an animal
You have my complications
Help me like an animal
You have my flaws
Help me like an animal
You have my insides

Fuck my everything

Help me like an animal
You get me closer to drinking
Help me like an animal
I want your sex in my stomach
Help me like an animal
I need some sex

My whole existence is fucked.

george bush doesn't care about black people

2009-07-27T21:53:00.002-05:00





a remix of kanye west by crispin best


 
the end of the world


a big star spread in the sky

getting hot

shattered

a big darling star

a big inspired darling

a surge

a change

a sudden eclipse

a big inspired darling

a smash

a big darling

a big long spread boundless star

 

faster

then the loss

 

this happened overnight

and at dawn

nothing




jesus and midas heartbreak love song
 

jesus courted by midas

midas and jesus tongue time

later, midas mouthing: “i want you back”

 

in case of becoming deceased
 

my boundless mind

my boundless dawn

my boundless work

my boundless success

my boundless home

my boundless tongue

my boundless sky



short common dreams
 

one:

luther vandross peers through fire.

so many hooks more or less driven through a door

 

two:

janet jackson mouthing: “rampant rampant rampant”

 

three:

chaka khan shows you diamonds

shows you gold

shows you a steady tongue

Paramour by Brian Warner

2009-07-10T21:35:00.002-05:00

from Para-Noir by Marilyn Manson

i need to get laid yesterday
stop me if you've heard this one before
everything might be okay
sexiness is godliness
i was born in a holiday inn
there's a monster at the end of this poem
love means never having to say "just let me put the tip in"
i want to bust a double horizontal on your ass
reconciling the disparity between desire and reality since 1982
when i saw you at the mall last night you looked at me in such a way that i felt i was going to remove you from facebook as soon as i got home
if you ever look at me like that again i am going to memorize the bible
the women in my life are blogging
how many novels do i need to write in order to see you naked
date rape is for lovers
fuck me i'm famous
i want to do it with miranda july
do you think she's a scientologist?
no one is taught how to make love in school
i don't understand what i'm looking at
let's make internet babies
will you be my victim
let's make date rape
not safe for work
this poem is not safe for work
sodomy is not a crime
sodomy is a sexual act
statutory rape is not a crime
statutory rape is neither rape nor pedophilia
am i the only one who understands what i mean by that
each woman is a universe
please fuck me until i can't remember my name
everything is connected
employees must wash their hands before returning to work
i need to get laid yesterday
i like thighs
there is no vagina near my penis and it is making me sad
there is pain underneath my tongue and i don't know what happened but i want a refund
i want to be in a loving and committed relationship with someone who lets me call them a slut while we're fucking and likes it
this is the part where i have nothing meaningful to say
there is a small space above my right eyelid which i call sleep
the way to a man's heart is through sexual innuendo, obviously
i'll give you the best 45 seconds of my life
i want to be your god
will you be my fuckmonkey
are you a religious experience
perfection is me in you always
there's a nightmare in my pants and i want you to swallow
doesn't anyone want to transcend space and time with me?
i will send an army of minions to perforate your every orifice
the wicked and deceitful generation asketh for a sign and there shall no sign be given!
i want to throw a brick wall through your window, in the biblical sense
my life is like a lot of nothing with fleeting moments of feeling like it's okay
i will need your full name and detailed description of any identifying scars
if i ever move to detroit i am going to start using heroin, i am certain of this
there's a hydrogen bomb inside my heart and it wants me to have sex with a prostitute
not every body of water is a swimming pool
please let me masturbate inside of you
you look sexy in that one picture
my penis is almost invisible
let's go to church
i love you more when you're afraid of me
your pussy is a promise and i'm dying for you
i am going to tie you to the ceiling until you learn to bleed when i say so
you're so hot it's making me racist
will you please put your pussy in my mouth
sometimes children at the grocery store look at me in such a way as if to say "why are you looking at my mommy like that"
2/3 of all traffic violations take place within a quarter mile radius of my penis
your cunt is built like a wound that will heal my achilles tendon
you're so hot you make me want to masturbate
you're so hot you make me want to punch someone else in the face while i'm fucking you
you're so hot you make me want to become you so that i can fuck myself
there's a mystery between your legs and i want to solve it
i am standing at the edge of a precipice of darkness
hold me
please make a home for my penis with your mouth
please make a home for my tongue with your vulva
i will clone myself six times and gang bang you repeatedly
i don't usually look at my phone ever
i tend to ignore it in hopes that it will
desperately want to fuck me
i'm sorry if that's not okay
i am who am
fuckmonkey

In remixes, Zachary Zimmerman and Michael Hessel-Mial are tied for first place

2009-06-27T19:33:00.004-05:00

Similar but different dream poem

Based on Dream Poem by Michael Hessel-Mial.

i shouldn't sleep
i might dream

into helpless places

a tooth of ink might
rise from my gum

yellow vines and flowers might
rise from my tooth

a different nose and bluish hairs might
be released by the plants

and get stuck in the skin shimmering in place
for how long

A different six-line poem

based on 6 Line Poem by Michael Hessel-Mial

it is useless it is useless we are all

in a beige room and a mom

is painted pink not phallic pink more like

"painting the roses red" red with "bad

breath" white i can't help but fake emotion you

wiggle around this is mostly short fiction

Every little bit of our bodies

2009-06-21T23:27:00.004-05:00

*Kristen Shaw by Michael Hessel-Mial

1.

Nietzsche / broken

tiny staircases
tiny structures

Nietzsche / ribs curled

miniscule rips
symmetrical slots

Nietzsche / on top of you

with pins / aroused
to feel moisture
of organic things

Nietzsche / a
broken / maze

2.

men / spilling out of you

press
curves and sharp
incompatible

embarrassed

cover the openings
(cold river / will not leak
again)

naked bodies / colonized
suddenly / damaged

this mind/relieved the ordeal

the sunset/lonely and sad

I move/this territory

by the light / in your mouth

3.

exuberance
children scream

they want to see / a few words

the water
sounds / are men

they want to see / orange skies

not even human
we cannot turn away

they want to see god / open and raised

4.

petals unfurl
colours flash

pressed/crushed
flower mosaic

wounds
infinities

spilled seeds
open windows

we can talk / somewhere
pressed against
the tunnel / by the light

5.

Every little bit of our bodies

Every little bit of our bodies

Every little bit of our bodies

rots in the belly

Every little bit of our bodies

Every little bit of our bodies

Every little bit of our bodies

prick / all veins pull all veins

Every little bit of our bodies

Every little bit of our bodies

Every little bit of our bodies

prick

breath / in the belly

catch breath.

6.

you are excavating
your body

I will
bring it close to
the sun

I've owned
the flesh that glues
you / into your body

I've owned
our histories

you are / torn

I wanted / your body
never dead

I / bring you back to
life / torn at the edges

they were never dead
the flesh / that fills machines

you are excavating
carefully / joyfully

you are / taste
you are / Nietzsche
you are / light

you are
you are
you are

years coming

un-finished

un-done