The structure of Ancrene Wisse Bella Millett University of Southampton.
Richard Millett - Twenty
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WE'RE HERE, AND IT'S ALL TRUE: THE AUTHORS INTRODUCTION & WELCOME
First off, I must say thank you for reading this. When I started writing at the age of 12, I couldn't imagine therewould ever be any interest, outlet, or audience for my work. Since then, it's become very cool and again very un-cool to be a writer. I've watched most of my peers go through phases where they fancied themselves filmmakers,painters, photographers, musicians, activists, philosophers, conceptualists, chefs, gurus, sculptors, and cultleaders- and perhaps I've been some of that too- but here I am in 2011, and my ongoing art project (its meansand its meanings) remain largely unchanged from the starting point. Except that everything's changed, of course.As it should. And to be honest, I bridle at even being called a writer, I certainly don't refer to myself as a "poet".As for other mediums, two quotes "the message is the medium" (Marshall McLuhan), and "the more mediums, thebetter" (Tim Szostak). The point is, fuck the limitations, and the definitions/assigned roles that come with them.I'm no more a "writer" than I am a "lawyer". I don't even consider myself white, male, or straight. Fuck. The.Limitations. If you have to label me anything, "human" and possibly "artist" is about as far as I care aboutventuring down that idiotic road.
From the start, I knew I wouldn't make money at this, so I always considered that to be wasted effort. In the pasttwo decades, one of the things I've watched change drastically is the relationship people in my age group havewith art. Including so-called "underground" or "anti-establishment" people. Straight away, underground, in myexperience, has rarely varied from "same as corporate, only with less cash/visibility." Anyway, I've watched artbecome quantifiable by a) how much income it can generate, and b) what niche audience it can be projected
onto. Usually has to do with credibility by association. I've watched people who should know better, prostitutetheir gifts and visions in the name of assimilating themselves into the industry. Ive watched people have theirotherwise intelligent insights re-shaped by critics and the zeitgeist, in the process becoming fashion victimsobsessing over the mania. Ive watched people care more about corporations than they do about creativity,because theyve been manipulated into thinking theyre on some sort of moral crusade by taking sides in whatamounts to a Coke Vs. Pepsi argument. Ive watched very talented people become indentured servants to saidcorporations, just for the honour of losing all honour, and berating anyone who hasnt replicated their exact steps.Ive watched people create ever more categories, labels, and factions, which only served to suffocate their spirits,and strangle their creativity, the outcome of which can only be considered little more than "output". Ive been toldI "dont understand how things are done", by folks who's dinosaur moves turn the au currant into kitsch faster thanyou can say "paradigm shift". Ive been told (by "independent" bookstore owners) that my books arent formattedthe right way, so therefore they cant be sold on their shelves. Ive been heckled by dolts, because I wasnt apoetry slam cut-out. And my work has been outright dismissed by folks "in the know" before theyve even read it
simply because I dont care to spend my evenings making their scene, exchanging bon mots and reveling in ourdelightful obscuritanism.
I vividly remember my high school and college days, where it seemed every week I was being implored toimpress some guy, who it was tacitly understood, was a really heavy genius, and if I was lucky, and droppedenough of the right names/references, I'd get to hop aboard his magical art colony mothership, where I would beshowered with benefactors and glowing reviews forevermore. Except those heavy guys were/are invariablyfrauds, never-weres, bitter, paranoid, egomaniacs, of whom two questions need asking- a) where the fuck arethey now? and b) what the fuck did they ever produce that was worthwhile? The modern manifestation of thisphenomenon (and I can't help but laugh when I see it) are the co-op writing websites that fuel their emergence onhype and the promise of being the ultimate, bulletproof, art revolution- the true new order, if you will...and withinsix months they are doing censored, dumbed down pap in order to please their advertisers. No wonder there's somuch cynicism and all around small ideas, right? Bad perception begets bad ideas begets bad art. And whenyou cross bad art with bad marketing campaigns, you are just another Mr. Brainwash. Show me the contribution,show me the plan. Then I'll see you down the road (that leads to Rome) in ten years, and we'll have a laugh.
Why in the hell have I bothered, then? Because it is always worth it. The complete freedom of expression I havemaintained, is absolutely, unquestionably, worth it. Being open to influence (not status or trends or the mania),running the river, so to speak, is worth it. Because I never know who I'll learn from, and being open to that, isalways worth it. Because I have had the great good fortune to meet, befriend and collaborate with some trulyremarkable, inspirational, astonishing individuals, who took on this vocation, and do it properly. I don't have toname you, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. You are worth it. Because on some level, it's important for me toprovide yet another example (I'm hardly the first, and certainly not the last), that you don't need an advertisingbudget, a street team, and the approval of industry standards to give the world your creation. Because being alantern beats being a flashlight. Because creativity (and the magic and hard work that goes with it) is obviouslybetter than stagnation. Because the next creative adventure always holds endless possibilities. The most !
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challenging, the most interesting, the most fun. Because, quite simply, I am in love with the creativeprocess. It fulfills my life like almost nothing else. I love the work it entails. I still get a huge thrill out ofwatching these ideas come together and take shape. The same level of excitement finishing the artworkand going to the printer that I had when I was 17. Because this work is not my therapy, it's not "my truth",it just IS. Because Art Is Life And Life Is Art.
Then there's you. The audience. The first printing of my first book was 5 copies, which I handed out toclose friends. Now, if my work gets 5 views in a week, I consider that slow. What I love is that you'rehere by choice. You haven't been conned or manipulated into paying attention, and it certainly isnt alifestyle accessory. 20 years in, and I have readers in the United States, France, Canada, Belgium,Russia, Romania, The Netherlands, India, Germany, Ireland, Malaysia, Brazil, Iran, Egypt, and Britain. Isay this not to gloat, but as a point of pride. Not pride in myself, but in you, the reader. The audience isthe other half of all this work. And the fact that youve been engaged enough to receive and transmit mywork is beyond gratifying. Not to sound churlish, but the readership does not affect what I do, determinemy course of actions, ideas about presentation, or the content itself. Obviously, I would certainly nevercensor anything. Because I started off the way I did, I believe that gives me strength to take my art in anydirection I see fit, and my willingness to alienate or confound is, what I believe keeps people interested. Ithink its evident that you arent being taken for granted, and you arent being pandered to. I respect yourintelligence, and ability to form your own opinions. Maybe thats why we both stick around.
Oh, and now for the pedantic stuff. The layout of this book should be apparent...one piece from eachyear Ive been writing. This collection is an overview for the curious. If you like what you see, guesswhat, there's alot more for you to check out. What this collection does not do is tell a story, reinforce anykind of narrative arc, or even show you how I got from a to b. For instance, there's nothing in here fromScatter (which I felt could not be broken out, and should remain whole), and my early 90's "political"material is almost entirely MIA. It's not definitive, and it's certainly not a "best-of". It's about laughter andfreedom. It's about content and context. It's about transmogrification and transcendence. It's about allthings as all things. It's about everything.
PEACE
Richard Millett, 2011Fluxlife Inc
The Universe!
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TWENTY RICHARD MILLETTContent:
The Lighter Side Of Suicide The New New HitlerFather PeopleSummer=Life Slow Boat To China
(Smells Like) Ass-Ass-Ination WaterEpileptical Illusion Life Isn't HardMay Buttermilk SporeDo You Believe In Love At First Sight? Swim To The CenterSilver 1001Lust MDCFor Lester Bangs Apocryphal Stories
New Razor
Photography by Roxanne Grace TheofanousDesign & Layout by Liz Ramirez
Concept, Design, & Direction by Richard Millett
All titles written by Richard Millett except For Lester Bangs (Millett-Swae-Szostak) and Silver (Millett-Lee)
All titles published by FLUXLIFE INC. 1991-2011 - This collection of material 2011 FLUXLIFE INC.
All rights reserved. Any duplication without the publishers direct written consent is thoroughly prohibited and punishable by law.
The Lighter Side Of Suicide- originally published in Extracts, 2001
Father/Summer=Life/(Smells Like) Ass-Ass-Ination- originally published in No One Will Ever Love You, 1995
Epileptical Illusion- originally published in Coming Out, 1996
May- originally published in Plastic Candy Fetish, 1997
Do You Believe In Love At First Sight?- originally published in Political Glitter, 1997
Silver- originally published in Cesarian, 1998
Lust- originally published in Fear, 1999
For Lester Bangs- originally published in Prison Slogans, 2000
The New New Hitler- originally published in War Is Terrorism, 2001
People- originally published in Radar/Grain, 2002
Slow Boat To China- originally published in Tracing The Dim Signal, 2003
Water- originally published in Water b/w Fingernail In My Salad, 2004
Life Isn't Hard - originally published in Life Isn't Hard b/w Mild Life, 2005
Buttermilk Spore- originally published in Splish!, 2007
Swim To The Center- originally published in Swim To The Center, 2007
1001/MDC- - originally published in Present, 2009
Apocryphal Stories- originally published in Statements Anti Statements, 2011
New Razor- originally published in Your Future, Your Freedom, 2011
[email protected]/user/FLUXLIFEINCfluxlifeinc.com (coming very soon)
!
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SLOW BOAT TO CHINA
The razor skin fell on the seatthe roof had been gauged out by a keythe exits were gaurdeda few numbers were written downtyped out in a foreign languageall the product of inflation
the casinos slot machinespaid out with surf musicand a 20 minute ringthe plumber knocked on the last roomof the far wingand was tipped with uneaten meat
I keep trying to leave, but I only get more insideI made it out of the garageonly to be stuck behind a foreignerwith thousand dollar hubcaps on a
fifty dollar car
a girl climbed up the micand before she got numb, asked themhow they could stand the climateshe was from california, never was snowed ondidnt get stopped by trainstwenty miles to five miles then to threeranging from dour to catatonic to irate
cant tell a building from a traineveryone drives throughexcept for me, I stop the frame
I took the wrong exit, driving into themarching band displayand wrote my senator complaining to his facehe wrote back sayingyes son, its about time we did things yr way
everybodys an altar boylooking for a lamp shade to make straightsome sunday spending money, a free robea thimble out of the rivercuz they made their case
trees grow faster in the city
according to the studythe nutrients depleted my bodyno electricity is gonna open that doorice is slow andnot enough to keep my attention, my attention
everyone acting like an altar boydragging their disagreements in the streetstopped, slow, and coyusing their vestments for sheets
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a few quick turns, and pleas for a rewardbut the holding cell is emptyI dont choose to open it today
I paid to replace the batteryand canceled my appointmentsthe dentist charged a late feethe neighbor watched his lawn instead of TV
I put my dinner in a glassand filled it w/ waterdrank half andleft the restI threw in some safety pinsto see how fast theyd rustafter 6 monthsthere were still no results
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LIFE ISNT HARDthe hour ends, the light bends down into a blueish brown
this man can program situations from his fingertips into any towninch by inch the ground grows thinthe twin and his father begin to cause alarm
rnsns wn nsr wnsmncn rrm nvvns rms nrsnwn ncncrn rws n wn nsrnr rms!
the taxi quits, the street spits its cement in the air
the rider grows quieter seeing the broken glass hang from her hairinch by inch the ground grows thinthe bankers begin signing citations for fraud
x ssr spss cmn n r rr rws r sn rn ss nrm rrncnc rn rws n nrs nsnncns r r!
congratulations around the table,
plans are made to auction any residual minerals
the phone rings, the professor brings flowers to the cement
the student laughs, burns charts and graphs to everyone?s amusementinch by inch the ground grows thinthe anchormen begin questioning the cause
nrnsrssrrns wrscmnsn s rns crsnrsvrns msmn ncncrnrwsnncrmnncrsnr cs!
::x:: ::x:: ::x:: ::x:: ::x::
::x:: **^^*^^*^i got earth in a fingertip, the speed of rotation::x::v:|||||||
did you seethe loss of ::x:: ::x:: ::x::gravity in the city? people's umbrellasand sunglasses floating around the w::x:: ::x:: ::x::
ater was flowing through state stpeople were swimming o ver the ground::x:: ::x:: ::x::
did you see the cops throwoff their badges , then dismantle their guns?
they got on top of their squad cars, on their knees worshipping the sun::x:: ::x:: ::x:: ::x:: ::x::
i got earth in a fingertip::x:: ::x:: ::x:: ::x:: ::x::::x:: ::x:: ::x:: ::x:: ::x::
fire in holes surround theparched, silent fields of brown andsoon they will be flaming out
and leave a puff of smoke
merry cries under autumn skies
sink the isolated dreamand its distanced, blurring view
nora wrote about a vanished boatthat tried to dock off the irish coastand sailed in between the mists, was never seen again
replacement folks in their townthe clocks are all tightly woundand people cant decide if its illusion or its true
but i know there is less of me, and almost nothing left of you
the frenzy
took over
the reverie
increased elucidation
the foundation
was accumulated
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when I wasn'tI was offensive
outside the waveweak without a missionnever gaining strength
why not, yesthe river slithers
the confession, patheticcenter of the solid rockpunched clear through
only a humanwith a circuit
a sky with breaththe order must be ignored/(action in full action)
I am ready
Are you going to swim to the center?or waste your time and space?do you know your energy lasts forever?or are you convinced you should be stuck in one place?so what are you going to do?protect your ego and hide in some group?we're free and so are you &you better understand that, cuz if not- we're all through
Are you going to swim to the center?or choose not to actare you going to deny and try to feel better?and create a load of crap no one gets?what are you going to do?lie behind shame, slogans, flags and fake facts?We are here and so are you &you better understand that, cuz if you don't- we're all through!
!"#$%&'(#%)"#*+%,-+.)%&*.)'/#%$#)0)"#%+12*34%52'..0)"#%5-&62#70)"#%8-1+4#-*.*#0)"#$%4'9#%%)"#*+%,#'6-3.0)"#*+%
)#5"3-2-4$0:%(-3;)%3##(%.'35)*-30*%+#6#'2%.)')1.0:%(-3;)%#')%.'9'4#0:%'&%.'9'4#0:;22%8*)#%$-1+%5"##/0:;22%81+3%$-1+%"-1.#0:;
3-)%'
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Some people need magicsome people need grace
get to know me, put your hand on my back
ask questions, about my future and past
gain my confidence with your hand on my back
Ill give you something youll never lose
not worth any money
but still important to me
wait right here
Ill be back
Ill give you something youll never lose
get to know me, make mental notes
photograph the room Im in
mimic my mannerisms
get to know me, memorize a couple quotes
what you know, you know is this
I love freezing in winter
used a pencil to dig out a splinter
youve got a smile for me
and the family of mine you met
they want to know you betterand you know youre getting closer
learned to copy my signature
you said you were me, and got my pin number
the phone rings at 9
youre right outside
my apartment
the ID says PRIVATE CALLER
and I cant even tell its your voice
its freezing in winter
you know youre now so much closer
and I know I should go
but I dont, I invite
you in and out of the cold
get to know me, touch my shoulder touch my hand
look me in the eye, make me understand
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get to know me, touch my hair, touch my hand
come here, what you know you know is this
I hate driving in rain
I hate that you wont pay
for a better place to stay
than that cheap hotel room
I got the spider bite inits quarter to three
a truck is cleaning the street
and youre walking through the steam
right at me
I want to go home
and make sure the door is closed
and youll never let me
rains gushing from the gutter
you know youre so much closer
but the window is closed
I keep thinking about
bringing you in and
out of the cold
I hear your voice echo
reverberate off the metal
he was found trying to get into Sala del Mappamondo
stop it, stop it, stop moving
stop right there
let me see your papers
now
your papers
is this everything?
these are forgeries
who are you?
I said who are you?
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Whats your business here
Who are you?
Romano, Dominic, come
Its him
Yes its him
Sir, get out
I said GET OUT
Sir if you dont comply I will have to use force
Romano get this bastard out
(Romano takes it upon himself to bash the butt of his rifle
against suspects head, blood streams from the wound)
Sir, stand up straight
Straight, I said
(Dominic steps forward, brick in hand, and motions as if he
will throw the object at the hunched over suspect)
Sir, a warrant was issued for you two weeks ago, you havebeen charged with war crimes as defined by section 101 of
the Respecting the Laws and Customs of War on Land, signed
18 October 1907
Sir do you wish to address this charge before you are
arrested?
I asked you a question!
Sir!
(Dominic inserts his bayonet into the suspects abdomen)(suspect grovels in pain, spitting blood)
Sir do you wish to address this grievous charge?
Sir, pay attention!
(kicks suspect in face, then in ribs)
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Sir!
Romano, roll him over
No, have him facing me
(Dominic, shoots suspect in shoulder, bullet ricochets off
left clavicle, exits the suspects body and re-enters atsuspects right tibia)
Sir do you have a statement to make?
Sir, do you understand a solicitor will be assigned to you?
Sir, we will now be seizing whatever assets you have onyour person, and we will be notifying the state to coverthe rest. Do you understand?
Dominic, Romano, strip him
Sir, you have no statement?
(While stripping suspect, Romano, punches suspect severaltimes, breaking the suspects jaw, nose, and left cheekbone)
Alright, alright, hes had enough
No, he refuses or is unable to make a statement
I think he understands the circumstances before himAlright, past the gate
Sir, they will be taking you past this gate
Do you understand, sir?
Get him ready, take him up there past the gate
Alright, Ill start the paperwork in a moment
No, we cant keep him here
(motions to gate)
SirSir? Alright Sir, pass in peace
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I saw the guards detain the jeep, he had been hiding undera blanket in the back. I could see them speaking and
motioning excitedly, but I couldnt specifically understandwhat they were saying.
Yes, they beat him very badly, they even shot him, his whole
body jumped when that happened. I jumped as well fromthe shock of the loud sound. After the beating they picked
him up and stuffed him back under his blanket and the jeepmoved forward a few feet, then stopped.
I figured I was pushing my luck, so I moved away as quietly
and quickly as I could. The guards? They went back totheir work, they had other trucks and jeeps to check, it was
a very long line.
The beating itself? I guess I could be glib and say oh yes,it was totally justified, that man and men like him are myenemy, but really it was quite sad, very sad and pathetic.
Well of course hes my enemy. I guess Im just asking what
are we doing if we beat our enemy? Torture our enemy?Are we worse than our enemy?
What even is an enemy?At what point do we hold an enemy responsible for their actions?
At what point do I become personally responsible?Why did the enemy get so powerful? Is it our fault?
How do we correct the actions of the enemy?Is it even possible?
What will we do to better ourselves in the face of our enemy?What will result from our mistakes?
What did we learn?
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APOCRYPHAL STORIES
metallic reaction on the skin, changes gold to bluefoundation brick laying play, all the questions trueglass in voice, nose in place, lake of lilies dareon the steps, in the air, all the swans can stare
you can seethe birth of earthyou can see it black and white
in reverse!
all your dreamsin betweeneverything everywheregravity, egg, and seedwet wet the jungle sea
window caterpillars, in iceberg clear skylightswhisper when the shades of blue, reflect in shades of whiteMichael Hampton on the wheel, one foot on the squarecoat of platinum, of the voice, exemplary thing to wear
I can choose a point of viewchange the channel I transmit ontoslip past security, unchain the drakeopen the door, dismantle the gate
in reverse!
all your dreamsin betweeneverything everywheregravity, egg, and seedwet wet the jungle sea
gifts of god for the people of godfor the children of godfreedom of godis freedom from godfreedom from godis freedom from god
in reverse!
it is the lightning in the legit is the beginning of the daynot guilty of causing an affrayblank sheet blank record blank history
free in every way
Right OnCome On
In Reverse!
Come On
You need all you can getthe jungle sea wet wet
full!
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NEW RAZOR
we are not teachers
we are not cops
we have no reputation to flaunt
we are the examples
we are not specialwe are not gods
we are only following laws
we are the examples
we dont nurse vipers
we dont reinforce liars
and in the event
we are questioned
as to if we seeded the listthe answer is its ours to
make invisible
if we created it
we dont debate
we dont walk through walls
we can carve six sided stars
pyramids and women with three arms
we are the examples
we have plums and candles on our table
no wine, no fatted calf for meat
no lamb grazing in the field
no oil and water on our feet
we are the examples
we are not tension, aimed in one direction
we are not a flashlightwe only have a lantern and
no manifesto we're trying to prove right
we are the examples!
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RINT FILM PROCESS995- No One Will Ever Love You 1991- Xamps Shut Up Sarah (film)
996- Coming Out 1991- The Story Of The Wooden Horse In Search Of David Niven (film)
997- Plastic Candy Fetish 1993- Edelweis Ghosts, Away (film)
997- Political Glitter 1993- The Passion & The Laziness Water (film)
998- Cesarian 1994- Instrumental Live + Nude + Helpless (book)
999- Fear 1994- The Swan Carving Up The Land, Breathing Empire, Seven Stars (
000- Prison Slogans 1994- Teenage Night, Part 1 (A Comedy) Carving Up The Land, Breathing Empire, Seven Stars (
001- Extracts 1994- Teenage Night, Part 2 (A Drama) Seriously, The Last Movie (film)
001- War Is Terrorism 1994- Punk Rock Bedroom Gorj (film)
002- Radar/Grain 1995- Clit Spankin' In '95 Occhio (film)
003- Tracing The Dim Signal 1995- The Jogging Rapist The Wedding Album (all)
004- Water b/w Fingernail In My Salad 1995- To The Bath
005- Scatter 1998- Kristen
005- Scatter/Mild Life/T. & W. 1999- Do You Believe In Love At First Sight?
005- Life Isnt Hard b/w Mild Life 1999- P.K. Talks To Rich Again
006- The Aluminum Farm 2000- I'll Have You Arrested
006- The Zen Transference Manual 2001- In Search Of Resurrection Mary
006- It Went Red 2001- In Search Of Dr. Woman
006- Xmas 2006 2001- Looking For Lithuanians
007- The First Four Years 2001- Garden
007- Splish! 2001- American Flag Pt. 1
007- The Splish Supplement 2001- American Flag Pt. 2
007- Splish! Reconsidered 2001- A Tribute To "Clock"
007- Swim To The Center 2001- Snuff Film
008- Oranges 2001- Tissue
009- Present 2002- The Video Postcard
009- Communism Is Grand 2002- Rising Up
009- The Sampler 2002- A Little Like How It Used To Be
011- Statements Anti Statements 2002- Lifesaver
2002- Night/Day
2002- Radar/Grain
2003- Telethon
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