(fleshwords by Ms Post Modemism)
[.warning.]
1.Ms Post Modemism has no history
Ms Post Modemism has a herstory
the story is long it reaches far back into bloodbloated pasts and snags it way into a viscous future and mixes cutting blood-let space and fleshtense narrative (jigsawing)
it has aborted storylines (which?when?where?what to follow?)
jilted meanings and a touch of modem static
(word processor blurrs into an e-mailed life)
Ms P M has gestated inside others
(a much more concrete past this one…old upstart…she had blondebrown hair and wore small vinyl shorts with old nun shoes and ate too much and made mad picture muzac through a painted face and twice thrice thrushed her way with other girlies sexstarved crazy whores and strains of other queerish boys and girly girls/bi girls/bye gURLl)
(a wolf in beauty’s clothing decked out/in…who taunted/ stretched her b&w b&d S&M into a realm of words that saturated life/wake/sleeping bytes and made the boy confused and open to her tauntless taunting words/ he lingers still)
(juice flowing and all bodies falling at her cybertouch
she wanted once then let her fingers drift her cyber/cipher/sniper soul into a void white space
they wait for her in static global lines caught up within e-motions and tight phone cord lines)
and now emerges from her voidwhitescreen to mix and slash/cut bloodpaste/puke and rant inside this mutilation narrative
[.all.the.while…]
a.Cutting down the inside right-hand palm
It-took-quite-a-long-time-to-make-this-decision-
She-needed-to-tell-the-others-about-it-first
<they laughed>
<and spent their days in soporific solitude apart from her>
It-didn’t-stop-her
<though at first it made her wonder if she was in fact insane, unhinged, or if it was pure pain-flattery egobashing her?>
<those self indulgent places/screen spaces>
and-so-she-took-the-knife-and-kissed-the-blade-and-wept-and-laid-the-silver-glintish-object-on-the-table-near the palm top and-then-ranted-and-then-made-her-favorite-pancakes-smothered-in-red-cherry-jam-(of-course)-and took them to the comp but-didn’t-eat-and-patted-down-her-whining-uneased-dog-and-read-her-book-(monitor mon-it-her bloodbook)-then-touched-the-point-again-and-grasped-the-shaft-of-wood-like-substancesurface- screen forgotten andshe-cuther-fingeronthebladesosharpargh!godthatfuckinhurtnotnotthistimewon’tcutmypalmthistime…
Ms = don't story label me i label me with schizoid alacrity
And don’t try piecing flesh into a middlestartandended parcel either - words will flash another jumbled warning red…nothing is as it seems in here
[.prepare.]
Post = what comes after the story flickering? The bloodsweat on keyboardian lives? Statements of fictionfact through flesh? Maroon dripping letterfluid?
Modemism = *flash flash* red liquiding lighting go, green light (no green kind light blinks blinding here)...millennium musings echo through a fleshcut aftershocking…think again and again
[.you.have.to.think.to.get.this]
>i
>will
>be
>here
>u
b.Incision down the left side of the face
It can’t be
That hard
I mean
I’ve done it before
Under the hairline
Where it won’t show
Leaves faint
Scar tissue
It’s probably
Real easy
When you think about
It is just an act
(With object)
[.words.
.screen. link.object.to.bloodletting.]
Kind of like
Brushing
Your teeth
Or smelling
Jacarandas
Or spooning satay
Into your open mouth
And savouring
The taste
In this case smell
Of copperblood
Or even
Ear piercing
The pain’s about
The same
Or maybe
Its is
More
And bleeds
A bit
More
And intentionally
It’s quite a
Bit more
[.more.]
And actually
The experience
Is definitely
More
Especially
The way
The cut
Weaves silently
Into
A zigzag
Patterning.
[.scanning.]
[.pattern scanning.]
[.retina scanning her lifeflesh wordbound handiwork.]
.she has her story control again.
3.Ms PM speaktypes
Emerging from my voidwhitescreen i mix and match cut and paste puke and rant inside the muthanarrative...
fleshlonging drives all
another chance
<blood letting turns into a fictionblurb>
a written slap…a story board I write a story bored and let it fall into a fleshless space
>Date: Wed, 22 Oct 1994 22:38:35
>To: Mailing List of Imagined Characters
>From: mary{ms} - {post} anne {modemism} breeze
>Subject: call for fictionalized comments...
>
>*snippet bytes*
>*snippets BITE!!!*
>do they bite??
>They should...All writing should.
>
>
>Blood progresses through an open slash/dramatic conflict
>policy
>
>
>this time i see the open wound
>static won't heal this one
>
>
>but wot can??
>can other *life* write me one pleaze.....
>
>
>{Insert life need here}
>
><insert insert c. need here>
>
>
[.fleshtense.narrative.subtitle.interrupt.with:]
c. Cutting up and pasting storybytes
[.continue.]
>a wounded man walks into a bar. The bartender says "Hello. U >must get out of my bar. U are bleeding all over the place"
>
>The wounded man gets up and walks to a corner stool slick with >spilt drinks and saliva slime *this isn't a reputable bar by any >means*
>
>
>A biker in the corner wants a fight, has spotted the blood and >scents it in the air
>
>
>"Hey YOU!!!" he shouts, his voice reaching the table in the corner, >but not making its way into the ears of W M (Wounded Man). W M >sits and sucks on a coopers in the corner, quietly bleeding into his >beer.
>
>he will wait.
>
>*contributors needed/bleeded/welcomed*
>
>write away....
>
> STarT? fiction collaboration need
>
> Gim.me.in.stal.ment.two.pl.ease.
>
> -ms post modemishfetishism.
>
I get back words of luvblood from a sydney woman who is eagerbeaver wordcutbound..another Ms..nother time and day and space that seeks to brush my narrative with red…
[. flash.]
[.another jumbled warning red.]
Now we
[.delete.]
My red will have to do till u
Decide
To blood-let too.
<yes u the reader bound by white sheaf leaved safety catches>
<u neva thought I'd trap yr flesh in here did u?>
Emerging from my voidwhitescreen i mix and match cut and paste puke and rant inside the dwindling narrative...
Text-flesh longing drives all
[.SAFETY.FICTION.BOUNDARY.COMMENTS.]
4. Ms PM gets serious
*and she turned around three M-times and let her fingers meld into the small plastic...*
my narrative will live
[.inserting.speaktype.truth.]
>Date: Tue, 21 Oct 1994 17:38:07
>To: WM
>From: ms pm
>Subject: Re: the fact that I am fiction
>>
>>
>>Hi mez-- how is life ?
>>*bleeding*
>> This beer sure tastes good!
>> Re:guards,
>> WM.
>
>
>Dear WM,
>
> For my long answer, press STOP
>
> My short answer (press CONTINUE)...all is as ok as it can >be...haven't had a chance to write yr next instalment yet *still >waiting to c if anyone on the mailing list to keen to invent u too*
>(my cerebral cortex is mush due to too many blood inducing
>hormones I fear)...as soon as things settle a bit here I'll get into it
>and send u my comments....
>
>> How's all the work going?
>
>I'm trying like crazy to convert Blood Letting into an acceptable >fiction piece but its too
>big and won't behave
>(keep running outta memory- RAM)…
>RAM = randomly accepting the medium
>*jeez*
>
>I'm whinging a bit aint i??
>
> J
>
><insert care factors here>
>
> J
> -seeya,
> Ms Post Milleniummodemismmez
4. Currencies of Ms Post ModemismMezMeaning
{insert reader's imagined choice of cutting space narrative d. snippet
or perhaps
the next instalment of the Wounded Man}
or possibly
text and image insertion with required detail bits and sensory input
.would.more.blood.make.it.a.story?.
[.more.]
im.age.s.an.d..bound.ari.es.cross.in.g.an.d .
cut
and
paste
the
space
without
making
the
body
blood
and
bits
disappear
into
bland trite stories
>Date: Tues, 28th Oct 1994 10:24:38
>To: you@yes.u.the.reader
>From: ms pm
>Subject: asking....
>
>a qs...
>
> hello by the way...
>
> <extending static handshake>
>
> Just read the first part of cutting spaces and was wondering wot >u thought of it?
> Hope u don't mind me popping up into the text like this J
> <revolving hand...flattened palm...word inscribed in blue >ink..."thanks">
>Remember to tell me if you need more blood.
>
> peace.luv.and quantum fiction,
> Ms Psychosis Metem
>
>
>
>
established currencies of meaning won't stop me *speaktypes she*
To break the links that bind meaning (associations blackboxing)
and employ reconstructive prose surgery (audiences wandering and wonder)
Emerging from this voidwhitepapersheaf you mix and match cut and paste puke and rant outside this metanarrative...
RealTimeFleshLiving drives you/me/us all.