from the voice recorder, on the way to a feminist organizing meeting on 11/25/02, while listening to American Supreme, the new Suicide album:
Sometimes sex tastes sour like bile, sometimes that\’s when it\’s best, when it\’s so rank you want to vomit.
And if I had a dj night, I would invite every feminist in the city and the local head of NOW and I would play the Suicide song \”Beggin\’ For Miracles\” and dance and sing along…
yeah, he fucked her
dragging her blood down the alley way
and the nightmare came…
and the priest looked around and seen \’em dancing
dancing in their graves…
you gotta beg her
beg her for miracles…
and the victims go underground
spectacular in the streetlights…
death is like a beatin heart around here
and it heaves
and he dragged his corpse down the bloody alley way
and the cops looked away
looked away as I begged
\’cause he fucked her
and they\’re dancin\’ in their graves,
so spectacular
and you gotta beg for miracles
with a smile on my face. I might not agree with what Alan Vega has to say, but I\’ll agree with Thomas Jefferson and defend to my death his right to say it. I might not agree, but damned if it doesn\’t turn me on.
Something about the clashing, seedy underbelly… the violence… seeping in to every part of you. It\’s unavoidable. Violence is an art form — not even suggested, not even implied, but out there, in the open, this is what happened. Not what\’s going to happen, not what could happen, but did happen.
Your power gone. Be it man or woman. There\’s something so sexy about that. Something that I am undeniably drawn to…
And yeah, baby, I am a sick fuck. But I would rather be a sick fuck getting my rocks off and having fun, knowing what I know and knowing what I like, being able to enjoy it with my own consent and others who consent, than never knowing myself and never knowing the possibilities that exist.
Maybe it\’s better to know that you are fucked up, than to not know who you are at all… Maybe it\’s better to embrace the violence, to see the violence within you, than to deny its right to exist.
Remember kids: Safe, Sane, and Consensual.
Happy Thanksgiving from your resident deviant.
Now everybody run out and buy the new Suicide album, because if you do not have the hottest sex you have ever had while fucking to this record, you should return your body for a refund or at least check it for faulty wiring. Parliament\’s Tear The Roof Off: 1974-1980 cannot touch this; close, but no caipirinha. I have a new favorite album to fuck by, and it makes four orgasms in half an hour look like small change. What are you waiting for? Buy this record!
