The death agony of love and the tasks of LIAC in the current epoch
A criticism-self-criticism: I don't think I quite grasped the principles of Love is a Cunt at first. Clearly the story of myself and L, lamentable and unbearably painful as it seems to me, is commonplace, banal, and lacking in full-blooded cuntishnness; if I were to lay the full history, or even the whole of my life and sorry loves before you all, would it count for more? I rather doubt it, cuntish though it all seems to me: the circumstances that have brought me to share the insight we have in common are unimportant.
What is important is this: the world divides in into those who have realised that love is a cunt and those who haven't, just it does into those who like oysters and the lumpen-proletarian scum who don't. I don't hate lumpens all the time, I'm big-spirited like that, so it seems to me some sort of agitation and propaganda is necessary, to take our message to the masses.
What better than a series of actions around that hated day, 14th February? Flash-mobs outside restaurants that offer special menus throwing shit at the customers, processions through the streets carrying litters on which the ugliest couples we can find fuck and sodomise each other filthily, grossly and without pleasure of any sort...
Modern public protest seems to involve dressing up and throwing paint (I prefer a good old-fashioned fight with the riot police myself); can anyone think of anything else?
What is important is this: the world divides in into those who have realised that love is a cunt and those who haven't, just it does into those who like oysters and the lumpen-proletarian scum who don't. I don't hate lumpens all the time, I'm big-spirited like that, so it seems to me some sort of agitation and propaganda is necessary, to take our message to the masses.
What better than a series of actions around that hated day, 14th February? Flash-mobs outside restaurants that offer special menus throwing shit at the customers, processions through the streets carrying litters on which the ugliest couples we can find fuck and sodomise each other filthily, grossly and without pleasure of any sort...
Modern public protest seems to involve dressing up and throwing paint (I prefer a good old-fashioned fight with the riot police myself); can anyone think of anything else?
posted by Lovelorn Swain | 8:43 pm
I truly think this post has cured me of my winter depression. I haven't felt this cheerful in weeks!
I like the way you write ("just it does into those who like oysters and the lumpen-proletarian scum")... But what's your point?
JiB, I think he's suggesting that LIAC members stage anti-love protests on Valentine's Day.
Oh and how I *laughed* at the 'good old-fashioned fight with the riot police'. It made me warmly nostalgic for my childhood spent in South East London in the 80's under Thatcher. A nice riot would make a welcome change from the pseudo-line-dancers that call themselves protesters over here. You can imagine the excrutiating Hell that Paris is on Valentine's Day, for not only do we have to contend with the customary quota of amourous couples, but also all of those who have flown in from all over the globe *especially* for the occasion.
Soon it will be time to lock myself in the wardrobe again.
It's also terribly punctuated; I did not mean to argue that the resturants throw shit at their customers (though they do) but that the LIAC Collective should do so.
Ahh, then I would fall into your fourth category - even in love, I fail to see why February 14th should be particularly special; you should be giving presents and showing affection to you adoré all year round. Just because. Surely that's the essence of romance. Maybe February 14th is simply an occasion for all the neglected ladies and gents to actually feel appreciated and adored for once, which is surely sad if the only reason that they're being pampered is because society says so.
This being said, I think another reason I hate Valentine's is because it's yet another example of Christianity pillaging and appropriating pagan holidays, Lupercalia in this case. But I think theology is best left alone around here. :)
Yes, well, I directed a steady, though I hope tasteful, shower of presents at L from the moment I fell in love with her, and look at me now.
It would be insulting to us both to suggest that I expected any favours of any sort in return, they were things that I thought she would take some pleasure in, and I think sometimes she did.
But I think everybody should disregrad my post, written as it was under the influnce of bad brandy.
i suggest that we all celebrate my favorite holiday of love, march 14, steak and blow job day. mark your calendars.
Valentine's day just serves as a rallying point for damaged relationships, a breaking point for stupid relationships, a non-event which increases the price of travel for no reason and something to remind single people that their lives are shit.
My own personal brand of justice for this event would be going to Covent Garden with a huge crossbow and shooting anybody that looks remotely lovestruck through the heart with red, steel bolts.
But, alas, 'tis not an ideal world. Instead I'll be watching the video of Sinead O'Connor's Nothing Compares To You back-to-back for seven hours before gouging my eyes out with the broken neck of a recently-emptied bottle of Grey Goose.
Oh! Nothing worse than recycled jokes.
*pokes JiB with a stick*
And if you so much as *breathe* on my crossbow, there'll be divine retribution in abundance...
Okay, I'll swap the crossbow for an axe. Whatever. Just so long as some people end up dead.