Oswaldo Pérez Cabrera
Vancouver is glass. Building colour Glass. Glass building colour. Vancouver is water, lots of water. Vancouver is mountain and endless forests. But it is also marihuana and solitude. Mainly solitude. And it is humid, a humid solitude that repossesses the city that lives under the shadow of a doubt. A humid metropolis, as if we were living between the legs of a nymphomaniac. The water comes, almost every time from above, in the shape of little cold caresses. A thousand slivers from a broken mirror that fall reflecting the nostalgia of the lost cities, exiles and abandoned lands or picture the dreams of future places. A thousand little pains. The alleys are filled with callous puddles that are stepped on without mercy. Vancouver is the freedom that balances the sense of distance. Freedom to smoke THC on the streets and freedom to legalize unions of same sex couples. The sex is multicultural; coitus in different languages and obtuse combinations. Freedom to be extravagant. Vancouver is the city that awaits destruction from its tectonic plates.
Drugs get stuck in the port city and are distributed on the abrupt corners of the east side of town where the shadows drip down the back doors between used preservatives and infected syringes with mortal diseases. Poverty peeps between social programs and political promises, but the sun enters tiny through the crevices of the sidewalk where the imaginary crack hides. Paranoia in D Minor. Schizophrenia in shrieking tones. Sometimes the inner voices mingle with the voices of the repressive authorities. Contradictions of freedom. Vancouver is the native land full of winds intoxicated with beers and moonshine; the opium of the ancestors; the land stolen from nature.
The last feminine smile is always accompanied by salty water. We are accumulating kilometers and stories, unfinished chapters, circles that are not perfect, lights that would not turn off, televisions that turn themselves on, fragments of life captured in mate paper, waves that circulate through the solitudes of Vancouver, my voice in an unknown speaker, el taste of the feminine vulva that leaves along with Mount Venus, grey with my drunken sperm; hotlines and psychics, the weed that always flows, hungry and thirsty in the waiting room of the apocalypse, the print letter that revolutionizes, the web that will unite us against the empire of evil. More or less that is how life is here. Live from the air. With the women of Vancouver that lick the wounds of solitude and the incapacity of forming an everlasting relationship with the stubborn men of the cold regions. And we are so dysfunctional. But I am still here, in my white cave with glossy illustrations, bars between the alley and the smoke from the joint until wine replaces blood. Until wine replaces blood. Until wine replaces blood
sábado, 28 de abril de 2007
viernes, 20 de abril de 2007
SuperSonic
Like that day that I boarded the supersonic jet 623 towards the spirals of dust from a splintered star and ended up in a brown-thick-wooden colour grotto with magic mushrooms everywhere; the good thing is that there was beer flowing from the moss in walls that were painting rust of iron virgins with faded colours.
I was being watched by winged beings whose only true thing was their condition of ethereal flyers; their wings were made of ectoplasmic feathers and their figures were almost indecipherable, due to the escapable condition inherent in the fantastic or supernatural beings. The problem was that, for my eyes their subatomic particles moved too fast and in long distances, so that they can appear and disappear whenever they want to and in blurred spectrums. Hertz waves of continental proportions were filtering through the pores of the washed and humid walls. Surrealism created on the walls by random and time.
The inducement was to feel the air breaking, literally slip through the aerial pores, between those plaits that exist between the molecule H and the molecule O and to throw a glimpse into the dimension that functions parallel to us, protected from all the pollution of the material worlds.
I wanted to climb grasping the black cracks of the universe attached firmly to some equipment of light constitution, almost imperceptibly to the scales that could serve me as a cane-radar through the invisible labyrinths of the macro spaces.
Something went wrong and I ended up in this dirty cave of schizo hues where animals that produce phobias become my principal food in this micro ecosystem where it seems that I am on top of the nourishing chain (unless the spiritual quasi-beings think of demonstrating their condition of destiny-changers and squash me like I squash the cockroaches and take me as an appetizer like I do with the insects in here or use me to satisfy their thirst of blood like I do with the rats).The religious stains sometimes are tri-dimensionalized mocking my eyes and deceiving my beliefs that are far away from being normal.
The worst punishment for a soul is to be trapped in a decrepit body and to be able to catch a glimpse of the disincarnate scopes that happen on the other side of the wind; however, mine would be happy to just walk your city streets and alleys.
OSWALDO PÉREZ CABRERA
I was being watched by winged beings whose only true thing was their condition of ethereal flyers; their wings were made of ectoplasmic feathers and their figures were almost indecipherable, due to the escapable condition inherent in the fantastic or supernatural beings. The problem was that, for my eyes their subatomic particles moved too fast and in long distances, so that they can appear and disappear whenever they want to and in blurred spectrums. Hertz waves of continental proportions were filtering through the pores of the washed and humid walls. Surrealism created on the walls by random and time.
The inducement was to feel the air breaking, literally slip through the aerial pores, between those plaits that exist between the molecule H and the molecule O and to throw a glimpse into the dimension that functions parallel to us, protected from all the pollution of the material worlds.
I wanted to climb grasping the black cracks of the universe attached firmly to some equipment of light constitution, almost imperceptibly to the scales that could serve me as a cane-radar through the invisible labyrinths of the macro spaces.
Something went wrong and I ended up in this dirty cave of schizo hues where animals that produce phobias become my principal food in this micro ecosystem where it seems that I am on top of the nourishing chain (unless the spiritual quasi-beings think of demonstrating their condition of destiny-changers and squash me like I squash the cockroaches and take me as an appetizer like I do with the insects in here or use me to satisfy their thirst of blood like I do with the rats).The religious stains sometimes are tri-dimensionalized mocking my eyes and deceiving my beliefs that are far away from being normal.
The worst punishment for a soul is to be trapped in a decrepit body and to be able to catch a glimpse of the disincarnate scopes that happen on the other side of the wind; however, mine would be happy to just walk your city streets and alleys.
OSWALDO PÉREZ CABRERA
SEX AND STATIC
YOU USED TO LIKE MY SMILE
YOU USED TO CALL ME AT NIGHT
YOU USED TO TAKE ME FOR A FLIGHT
YOU USED TO MAKE EVERYTHING ALRIGHT,ALRIGHT,RIGHT AL...
SO, THE GIRL CAME UP TO MY ROOM, SWEAT AND JEANS, DARK HAIR AND LIQUOR BREATH. ALCOHOLIC KISS, SIZZLING TONGUE, BIZARRE FEELING OF JUST BEING WOKEN UP WITH BOOZE AND WEED FLUSHING IN MY BRAINS. YES I DO MISS HER. BUT SHE WAS OFFERING A PRESENT; NOT THE LUST LOST PAST THAT NOW IS IN MY MEMORY. MY WICKED MEMORY. HAPINESS IS THE SEED OF NOSTALGIA. SOME MORE DRINKS BEFORE THE CORPORAL FLUIDS COLLAPSE. DESIRE FOR FLESH, DESIRE TO GET LOST IN A RIVER OF FORGETNESS. SIMPLY CONCORDANCE, DANGEROUS DANCE. TONIGHT, TOTALLY NIGHT, LABERYNTIC DARKNESS IN MY BRAIN. MUDDY KISSES, SCARY MINDSCAPES. THE SKY HAS A HOLE. THE GIRL APPROCHES HER HAND TO MY PLEASURE-CENTER. I CORRESPOND WITH MY FINGERS. DIZZY AUTOMATS CARESSING THEIR WET BODIES FOR THE SAKE OF BEING. HALLUCINATE. I CAN'T STOP. IMAGES PARADING THROUGH THE NEURONS, WHILE ALL THE STORIES HAD BEEN TOLD AND RELIVING OVER AND OVER AGAIN. MY CONSCIENCE DRIVES A LIMO IN THE HIGHWAY OF PSHYCHEDELIA RUNNING OVER A MILITARY CONVOY. MANDELA STARTS THINKING OF MARRYING THE TOP MODEL OF THE MOMENT. BUSH PISSES ON A STREET CALLED REVOLUTION WITH A JOINT IN HIS MOUTH STANDING ON A GAS TANK. MALDOROR RISES FROM FANTASYLAND TO HORRORLAND CLAIMING FOR HIS BARENAKED CHILDREN. HUSSEIN PLAYS MONOPOLY WITH A HUNDRED SHADOWS OF HIMSELF WAITING TO BE EXECUTED; THE SOLDIERS WONDER WHICH IS THE RIGHT ONE. A BESTIAL PRESIDENT FINISHES WITH THE CATTLE OF HIS COUNTRY, THE BIGGEST COCAINE DEALER JOINS THE CHOROUS OF HIS LOCAL CHURCH, FIDEL CASTRO'S LATEST FASHION IS TO DYE HIS BEARD WITH THE COLOURS OF THE RAINBOW. THERE IS NOT A PLACE WHERE IT DOESN'T EXIST A PRISIONER. PRISIONER OF YOUR OWN HEAD. LEAVE THE DRUGS READER. THE POPE IS A TRANVESTITE DRESSED IN A BRILLIANT MONOCHROMATIC NIGHTGOWN. THE MOON IS MADE OF LATEX AND THE SUN OF PROPANE. ZEUS IS STILL ORGANIZATING ORGIES WITH OTHER GODS FROM DIFFERENT BOOKS. YOUR GOD IS REALLY A WOMAN. HER SON WAS THE FIRST HIPPIE. BAKUNIN IS TELLING THE ANARCHISTS TO WEAR DAFFODILS IN THEIR HAIR. THE RIVER RUNS UPSIDE DOWN. I FEEL THE HUMIDITY OF HER BODY, MOANING AND WHISPHERING IN MY EAR. MORE MORE!, MORE!, TELL ME I'M A WHORE, TREAT ME LIKE A STUPID BITCH. A BLACK HOLE IS SWALLOWING THE WORLD'S ARMY. YOU HAVE BEEN PROGRAMMED. AN ARTIFICIAL VIRUS SINS WITH GLOTONY. Humankind DESTROYING MANKIND. THE DEAD PEOPLE ARE FORMING A LIBERAL PARTY. DAMNATION. HAVE YOU EVER SEEN THE DEVIL DANCING IN A FANCY SUIT? SELL, SELL, SELL, MONEY, MONEY. KEEP ON WALKING ON THE RIGHT SIDE. STOP BEING A REBEL. EVEN YOUR PREACHER WAS A REBEL, NOW HE FUCKS EXPENSIVE WOMAN WITH YOUR MONEY. JUST GET THE BEAT UP AND DOWN, IN AND OUT. SADE WAS A NUN MASTURBATING OTHER NUNS WITH HIS CRUCIFIX. UNDER THE GROUND, THERE'S A CITY WHERE WRITERS LIKE POE, LOVECRAFT, DUNSANY, MACHEN AND WELLS LIVE WAITING FOR THEIR MAGGOT SALAD. WRITERS ARE IN DANGER. INMORTALITY IN WORDS WRITEN IN A WHITE PAPER, I'LL LIVE AS LONG AS SOMEONE READS ME. WE WERE NOTHING BUT BODIES FOR EACH OTHER, HEDONISTIC BEINGS IN SEARCH OF WELLNESS. BLOOD PUMPING. FRICTION AND HOT. SALTY FLAVOUR. THE SOUND OF STARS. BUKOWSKI THINKS I AM COOL CAUSE I HAVE MADE PEACE WITH ALCOHOL, HE'S STILL THREE FEET UNDER. YOU WOULD DRINK PISS IF I TELL YOU IS THE LATEST DRUG. IN A FAR ISLAND THE CORRUPT PRESIDENTS SWIM IN A MONEY POOL TOUCHING THEMSELVES WITH THIER GREEDY HANDS. THE OCEAN AGLOWS WITH NOISES. THE FISH CRY THEIR PAIN. FADING OUT. EVEN IN YOUR HAPPY PLACE THERE’S A WAR GOING ON. THINK OF A HAPPY PLACE, YOU CAN'T EVERYTHING IS GONE. AN INCREDIBLE SPRINKLE LIGHTS UP THE SKY. SET THE AIR ON FIRE, EXHAUST YOUR JAIL BODY WITH DESIRE, BABY SET THE EARTH ON FIRE. SO, THE GIRL LEFT AFTER A LOUD ORGASM SERVED WITH ANIMAL SCENT AND A SEMEN COCKTAIL. THE SUN WAS GOING UP. MAYBE ANOTHER BEER WILL CALM MY BODY. LYING IN BED STARING AT THE ENDLESS FIGURES IN THE CEILING. NOT ANOTHER PARADE. RELAXATION WILL ALWAYS COME TO LEND A HAND. TORMENTOUS NIGHT, MY EX-GIRL...YES, YOU USED TO LIKE MY SMILE.IS IT ANYTHING SIMPLER THAN THAT?THAN LIFE?
OSWALDO PEREZ CABRERA
Mexico Distrito Federal
YOU USED TO CALL ME AT NIGHT
YOU USED TO TAKE ME FOR A FLIGHT
YOU USED TO MAKE EVERYTHING ALRIGHT,ALRIGHT,RIGHT AL...
SO, THE GIRL CAME UP TO MY ROOM, SWEAT AND JEANS, DARK HAIR AND LIQUOR BREATH. ALCOHOLIC KISS, SIZZLING TONGUE, BIZARRE FEELING OF JUST BEING WOKEN UP WITH BOOZE AND WEED FLUSHING IN MY BRAINS. YES I DO MISS HER. BUT SHE WAS OFFERING A PRESENT; NOT THE LUST LOST PAST THAT NOW IS IN MY MEMORY. MY WICKED MEMORY. HAPINESS IS THE SEED OF NOSTALGIA. SOME MORE DRINKS BEFORE THE CORPORAL FLUIDS COLLAPSE. DESIRE FOR FLESH, DESIRE TO GET LOST IN A RIVER OF FORGETNESS. SIMPLY CONCORDANCE, DANGEROUS DANCE. TONIGHT, TOTALLY NIGHT, LABERYNTIC DARKNESS IN MY BRAIN. MUDDY KISSES, SCARY MINDSCAPES. THE SKY HAS A HOLE. THE GIRL APPROCHES HER HAND TO MY PLEASURE-CENTER. I CORRESPOND WITH MY FINGERS. DIZZY AUTOMATS CARESSING THEIR WET BODIES FOR THE SAKE OF BEING. HALLUCINATE. I CAN'T STOP. IMAGES PARADING THROUGH THE NEURONS, WHILE ALL THE STORIES HAD BEEN TOLD AND RELIVING OVER AND OVER AGAIN. MY CONSCIENCE DRIVES A LIMO IN THE HIGHWAY OF PSHYCHEDELIA RUNNING OVER A MILITARY CONVOY. MANDELA STARTS THINKING OF MARRYING THE TOP MODEL OF THE MOMENT. BUSH PISSES ON A STREET CALLED REVOLUTION WITH A JOINT IN HIS MOUTH STANDING ON A GAS TANK. MALDOROR RISES FROM FANTASYLAND TO HORRORLAND CLAIMING FOR HIS BARENAKED CHILDREN. HUSSEIN PLAYS MONOPOLY WITH A HUNDRED SHADOWS OF HIMSELF WAITING TO BE EXECUTED; THE SOLDIERS WONDER WHICH IS THE RIGHT ONE. A BESTIAL PRESIDENT FINISHES WITH THE CATTLE OF HIS COUNTRY, THE BIGGEST COCAINE DEALER JOINS THE CHOROUS OF HIS LOCAL CHURCH, FIDEL CASTRO'S LATEST FASHION IS TO DYE HIS BEARD WITH THE COLOURS OF THE RAINBOW. THERE IS NOT A PLACE WHERE IT DOESN'T EXIST A PRISIONER. PRISIONER OF YOUR OWN HEAD. LEAVE THE DRUGS READER. THE POPE IS A TRANVESTITE DRESSED IN A BRILLIANT MONOCHROMATIC NIGHTGOWN. THE MOON IS MADE OF LATEX AND THE SUN OF PROPANE. ZEUS IS STILL ORGANIZATING ORGIES WITH OTHER GODS FROM DIFFERENT BOOKS. YOUR GOD IS REALLY A WOMAN. HER SON WAS THE FIRST HIPPIE. BAKUNIN IS TELLING THE ANARCHISTS TO WEAR DAFFODILS IN THEIR HAIR. THE RIVER RUNS UPSIDE DOWN. I FEEL THE HUMIDITY OF HER BODY, MOANING AND WHISPHERING IN MY EAR. MORE MORE!, MORE!, TELL ME I'M A WHORE, TREAT ME LIKE A STUPID BITCH. A BLACK HOLE IS SWALLOWING THE WORLD'S ARMY. YOU HAVE BEEN PROGRAMMED. AN ARTIFICIAL VIRUS SINS WITH GLOTONY. Humankind DESTROYING MANKIND. THE DEAD PEOPLE ARE FORMING A LIBERAL PARTY. DAMNATION. HAVE YOU EVER SEEN THE DEVIL DANCING IN A FANCY SUIT? SELL, SELL, SELL, MONEY, MONEY. KEEP ON WALKING ON THE RIGHT SIDE. STOP BEING A REBEL. EVEN YOUR PREACHER WAS A REBEL, NOW HE FUCKS EXPENSIVE WOMAN WITH YOUR MONEY. JUST GET THE BEAT UP AND DOWN, IN AND OUT. SADE WAS A NUN MASTURBATING OTHER NUNS WITH HIS CRUCIFIX. UNDER THE GROUND, THERE'S A CITY WHERE WRITERS LIKE POE, LOVECRAFT, DUNSANY, MACHEN AND WELLS LIVE WAITING FOR THEIR MAGGOT SALAD. WRITERS ARE IN DANGER. INMORTALITY IN WORDS WRITEN IN A WHITE PAPER, I'LL LIVE AS LONG AS SOMEONE READS ME. WE WERE NOTHING BUT BODIES FOR EACH OTHER, HEDONISTIC BEINGS IN SEARCH OF WELLNESS. BLOOD PUMPING. FRICTION AND HOT. SALTY FLAVOUR. THE SOUND OF STARS. BUKOWSKI THINKS I AM COOL CAUSE I HAVE MADE PEACE WITH ALCOHOL, HE'S STILL THREE FEET UNDER. YOU WOULD DRINK PISS IF I TELL YOU IS THE LATEST DRUG. IN A FAR ISLAND THE CORRUPT PRESIDENTS SWIM IN A MONEY POOL TOUCHING THEMSELVES WITH THIER GREEDY HANDS. THE OCEAN AGLOWS WITH NOISES. THE FISH CRY THEIR PAIN. FADING OUT. EVEN IN YOUR HAPPY PLACE THERE’S A WAR GOING ON. THINK OF A HAPPY PLACE, YOU CAN'T EVERYTHING IS GONE. AN INCREDIBLE SPRINKLE LIGHTS UP THE SKY. SET THE AIR ON FIRE, EXHAUST YOUR JAIL BODY WITH DESIRE, BABY SET THE EARTH ON FIRE. SO, THE GIRL LEFT AFTER A LOUD ORGASM SERVED WITH ANIMAL SCENT AND A SEMEN COCKTAIL. THE SUN WAS GOING UP. MAYBE ANOTHER BEER WILL CALM MY BODY. LYING IN BED STARING AT THE ENDLESS FIGURES IN THE CEILING. NOT ANOTHER PARADE. RELAXATION WILL ALWAYS COME TO LEND A HAND. TORMENTOUS NIGHT, MY EX-GIRL...YES, YOU USED TO LIKE MY SMILE.IS IT ANYTHING SIMPLER THAN THAT?THAN LIFE?
OSWALDO PEREZ CABRERA
Mexico Distrito Federal
miércoles, 11 de abril de 2007
Pornographic Story Under the Rain
The rain presaged an ending in red and gray. The rain produced a watery mirror whose slivers were incrustrated into the skin of the city.
They have been locked in like metropolis animals in a concrete cage, prisoners by their own will, wrapped in a human knot. Brains intoxicated by artificial and natural substances.
He extended a scorching candle like those of the churches. It was looking for the warmth of an open rose. She received him unfolding her extremities open wide. The red of passion spread on the gray sheets wetted by the sweat with salty flavor like the tears of joy that were raining from her eyes.
Time, damned dictator was repressing his feelings but was exalting hers as well.
He broke the spell and went looking for another destiny under the canille rain that kept punishing the pavement. Broken glass in her heart. Hate licked the wounds on her sad chest.
The noise is still recorded in the walls. They have filtered in form of frequencies by the pores. Before the departure they were screams of joy, after they were screams of desperation.
Of him, nobody knew anything. It is believed that he crossed some borders and an ocean.
She took a warmth bath with a cocktail of multicolor pills. Then she sank the Gillette in several parts of her skin.
The rain put the gray hue to the story with her monotonous melody. She put the red trying to kick out the gray inside of her soul. She just could take the carmine of her body.
The gray remains. Here still rains.
OSWALDO PEREZ CABRERA
They have been locked in like metropolis animals in a concrete cage, prisoners by their own will, wrapped in a human knot. Brains intoxicated by artificial and natural substances.
He extended a scorching candle like those of the churches. It was looking for the warmth of an open rose. She received him unfolding her extremities open wide. The red of passion spread on the gray sheets wetted by the sweat with salty flavor like the tears of joy that were raining from her eyes.
Time, damned dictator was repressing his feelings but was exalting hers as well.
He broke the spell and went looking for another destiny under the canille rain that kept punishing the pavement. Broken glass in her heart. Hate licked the wounds on her sad chest.
The noise is still recorded in the walls. They have filtered in form of frequencies by the pores. Before the departure they were screams of joy, after they were screams of desperation.
Of him, nobody knew anything. It is believed that he crossed some borders and an ocean.
She took a warmth bath with a cocktail of multicolor pills. Then she sank the Gillette in several parts of her skin.
The rain put the gray hue to the story with her monotonous melody. She put the red trying to kick out the gray inside of her soul. She just could take the carmine of her body.
The gray remains. Here still rains.
OSWALDO PEREZ CABRERA
Wandering Souls
Wandering souls
Maybe because I missed walking through the lightless back alleys, maybe because the puddles were barely reflecting the dusk in half hues. But mostly because I was looking for the world of candles, where a procession of perishable lives is formed waiting for the eternal blow. At the end, it is all because I am an imperial vagabond, I have a broken soul and I look for redemption in some crevice of the sweated city. It is also because I miss your breath and all the times that you were breathing the same air that was being expelled by my lungs and I could sniff the traces of alcohol and tobacco that remained in your interior. Simply because I am a hunter of souls that snoops like a spectator into the particular theatres. But I don’t know until which point I can differentiate if I am a participant or just a witness in the films of life?
In some corner I find the way to become ubiquitous and I can caress this city scribbled with technology and dressed in black leather with ornaments of graffiti colour. Then all the stories seem to converge inside my psyche and I feel like a semi-god that distracts himself with borrowed tales so he can disguise the lacking of his kingdom; then I justify my god.
Inside the ghetto I can see the walls stained with sticky auras, the speed of the mind reduces velocity below the permitted limits and I take advantage to blow some flames to see the results of the cocky actions inherent to the powerful beings. As I feel the tenuous fragility of the threads of life I am scared and I retreat to a more inoffensive place.
I don’t know why I always liked the food of the hospitals, maybe because I could see some ailing souls trying to decide if they should cross the wire or remain in their corporal repression. Then I could swallow them and absorb their stories like the smoke of a cigarette. Better said, I inhale the echo of the smoke that is left from their candles when they are extinguished. That last cleft that allows me to review the letters tattooed in the plaits of time. Then I fly at extravagant speed to aspire all the holy smokes.
In the caverns of the world there inhabit beings that guard us from invisible roofs like waiting for the catharsis. I have seen them while I slide through the sepia aisles that open silently between the lightest particles. They have a sick colour that does not correspond to any of the ones in here. Generally, I slip away through the dimension of the mirrors and from this side, the mirror in the washroom is not that cruel. I watch the pores of my shut face, like a lunar map full of black trees without vegetation. Like epic spikes rising to protect the territory of the inside, the one that is beyond the flesh in the last crevice of privacy. In the meantime, I can spend some time between the normality of the masks and try to mould it in the letters of time.
After that I will have time to invade those crevices of privacy belonging to strange people.
OSWALDO PÉREZ CABRERA
Maybe because I missed walking through the lightless back alleys, maybe because the puddles were barely reflecting the dusk in half hues. But mostly because I was looking for the world of candles, where a procession of perishable lives is formed waiting for the eternal blow. At the end, it is all because I am an imperial vagabond, I have a broken soul and I look for redemption in some crevice of the sweated city. It is also because I miss your breath and all the times that you were breathing the same air that was being expelled by my lungs and I could sniff the traces of alcohol and tobacco that remained in your interior. Simply because I am a hunter of souls that snoops like a spectator into the particular theatres. But I don’t know until which point I can differentiate if I am a participant or just a witness in the films of life?
In some corner I find the way to become ubiquitous and I can caress this city scribbled with technology and dressed in black leather with ornaments of graffiti colour. Then all the stories seem to converge inside my psyche and I feel like a semi-god that distracts himself with borrowed tales so he can disguise the lacking of his kingdom; then I justify my god.
Inside the ghetto I can see the walls stained with sticky auras, the speed of the mind reduces velocity below the permitted limits and I take advantage to blow some flames to see the results of the cocky actions inherent to the powerful beings. As I feel the tenuous fragility of the threads of life I am scared and I retreat to a more inoffensive place.
I don’t know why I always liked the food of the hospitals, maybe because I could see some ailing souls trying to decide if they should cross the wire or remain in their corporal repression. Then I could swallow them and absorb their stories like the smoke of a cigarette. Better said, I inhale the echo of the smoke that is left from their candles when they are extinguished. That last cleft that allows me to review the letters tattooed in the plaits of time. Then I fly at extravagant speed to aspire all the holy smokes.
In the caverns of the world there inhabit beings that guard us from invisible roofs like waiting for the catharsis. I have seen them while I slide through the sepia aisles that open silently between the lightest particles. They have a sick colour that does not correspond to any of the ones in here. Generally, I slip away through the dimension of the mirrors and from this side, the mirror in the washroom is not that cruel. I watch the pores of my shut face, like a lunar map full of black trees without vegetation. Like epic spikes rising to protect the territory of the inside, the one that is beyond the flesh in the last crevice of privacy. In the meantime, I can spend some time between the normality of the masks and try to mould it in the letters of time.
After that I will have time to invade those crevices of privacy belonging to strange people.
OSWALDO PÉREZ CABRERA
sábado, 31 de marzo de 2007
The End of Sex
THE END OF SEX
They had been sitting for two hours watching their faces reflecting in the cold cup of coffee, staring at each other with boredom drilling their bodies, their brains tired and a non-stop rain falling defying the patience of mortals.
(The coffee shop has a big window, beside it our heroes in a wooden table, the drops sliding down the crystal, all the other couples, and people in the small café have the same tiredness in their looks. Indifference.
Man.- I had it with sex. (Suddenly he broke the silence).
Woman. - Me too. (She agreed with the same tone of sickness).
Man.- I mean, I really had it.
Woman. - So, what’s your point?
Man.- What’s my point? What’s your wild sexual fantasy?
Woman.- I don’t know. Maybe make love while we are falling from the sky.
Man.- Be real. Besides, I think we did that.
Woman.- Well (doubtfully) you should know, I’ve told you many times.
Man.- Yeah, and we’ve fulfilled your fantasies so many times.
Woman.- Well…yes…so.
Man.- So that’s my point, we can’t go any further, and we have tried everything. It’s just so monotonous. We are loosing the sparkle.
Woman.- Yeah, you are right.
Man.- No fun. But we had great times.
Woman.- For sure, the greatest lovers on the face of the Earth.
Man.- Earth, I hate that. Like the time when we first met. You were sensuality and I was lust.
Woman.- Our first touch was lighting.
Man.- We looked in each other’s eyes.
Woman.- approaching wordless.
Man.- Your lips barely open, waiting to be kissed for the first time.
Woman.- We followed our instincts. We were made to love.
Man.- I kissed you softly, my tongue reached inside your mouth breathless, my hands searched for your exquisite breast, touched them doubtfully, then down your belly, your womb and to that wetness, the vortex of my imagination.
Woman.- you were shaking. I was sweating and feeling a delicious pain when your finger was exploring my inside.
Man.- I was astonished when your dress fell down to the ground, my erection was about to explode.
Woman.- (laughing) I was very much surprised when I saw your piece of meat. I couldn’t imagine it inside of me. It was enormous. I was so naïve.
Man.- I started kissing your neck and all your body inch by inch, your sweat tasted like strong liquor.
Woman.- Your tongue felt so right, your hard body pressing mine, so tender.
Man.- each drop like pearls and I left a wet path in your skin, a happy trail to your salty garden. That smell was like a drug. I thought I could die in there. Cunilingus: exquisite dish.
Woman.- (laughing) I was so ashamed, my body trembling. It felt so good.
Man.- I was exploring.
Woman.- I loved to be explored.
Man.- We unleashed something that day.
Woman.- Not until your penis was wandering around my thighs looking to get inside.
Man.- We invented something when I penetrated you. Ah! That feeling! We justified our existence.
Woman.- The flesh.
Man.- We almost fainted.
Woman.- We just couldn’t stop.
Man.- We must have invented a thousand positions.
Woman.- we became greedy.
Man.- The purpose of sex is reproduction.
Woman.- We ignored that.
Man.- Me on top, you on top, we standing. Oh! When we sucked our parts at the same time, you were sitting on my face, moaning, humid, you were licking, a puddle in my mouth.
Woman.- Oh yeah. Well your penis was gloaming with my saliva, it was beating like a heart. Felatio my dearest, a splendid dessert.
Man.- our bodies were throbbing.
Woman.- We were like a knot.
Man.- Then I discovered your anus. I think I touched your intestines with my sizzling tongue.
Woman.- And your dick. We invented sodomy.
Man.- your ass was tight. That smell used to keep me alive.
Woman.- The flavour of your semen. I must have drunk litres of it, dripping on my chin. I was inside of you too, with my finger remember? You rocking and I caressing your prostate.
Man.- You really moved me woman.
Woman.- Then we met this guy. The alcoholic one bac something.
Man.- And he introduced us to the wine.
Woman.- A new experience, we made love under its influence.
Man.- I drank it from your body.
Woman.- Sticky love, you lick it.
Man.- Sweat and sweet
Woman.- you smeared me with all kinds of stuff.
Man.- Well, you cooked and eat on my naked body.
Woman.- Then the trios, the menage au trois, the threesome.
Man.- we have a guest of every race in our bed.
Woman.- Men, women and all kinds of drugs. We tried them as they invented them.
Man.- But we didn’t invent homosexuality.
Woman.- not really, you were sodomized though, screaming like a woman.
Man.- Well, you had four men at the same time, your two hole occupied, your mouth busy and trying to satisfy the other fellow with your breasts.
Woman.- I did satisfy the guy.
Man.- Those orgies were mythical.
Woman.- Human labyrinths.
Man,- With a lot of holes to be filled.
Woman.- I think it was France. Yes, the young virgins, the priest, the studs, the royalty, the slaves, sexual humiliation, I was THE dominatrix.
Man.- No masks, no clothes, no social status.
Woman.- Hedonism at the max. Did we invent that word?
Man.- every one looking for the same thing. Out of them.
Woman.- We didn’t know if it was day or night. Everyone naked, some crying, some screaming, white eyes, fat, skinny, blondes, I don’t know. No complexes and a lot of fetishes. Fetish (thinking) Oh those French.
Man.- We had the toys.
Woman.- You loved the whip.
Man.- I punished you, left maps on your skin. You loved the sensation of pain. Your body was on fire begging for more.
Woman.- Yes my man, but you had your share too. Handcuffed, dressed in leather, beaten until ejaculation. Crucified giving me your sacred fluids.
Man.- Fluids! That’s a good one. You were fascinated every time you felt my urine in your body, the golden shower splashing in your soft skin.
Woman.- I even took a shit in your stomach. Remember the warm sensation? And what about peeing on your face.
Man.- I loved to sprinkle our guests.
Woman.- yeah, we knew some kinky people.
Man.- Sick people! Remember the wanna-be vampires? They drank your blood. They wouldn’t have an orgasm if they didn’t have some blood.
Woman.- yes, I remember a guy that had a razor blade in his teeth and cut us and himself, he giving it to me and you to him. You liked men’s asses.
Man.- Twisted. Little streams of blood.
Woman.- We became voyeurs and bisexuality? I think we started that. Women odour a splendid gift to my senses.
Man.- We masturbated each other in public places.
Woman.- The time when we tied that priest, I sucked his erection until he cried. From both sides that is.
Man.- I rapped a nun while you were playing with that artificial device.
Woman.- technology helped us a lot.
Man.- yes, fucking in airplanes, in trains, in stadiums, in every new place and every corner of the world.
Woman.- We witnessed and recorded a lot of sexual stories.
Man.- Paedophile! We even practice that. Oh the little ones!
Woman.- The animals, honey, you made me do things beyond my capacity.
Man.- I was getting bored. Orgasm used to be the little Death, now it’s just a… We have gone too far.
Woman.- The couples don’t kiss anymore.
Man.- Love is just overrated
Woman.- We can’t do anything, people just lost interest.
Man.- Me too. I tell you. No more holding hands.
Woman.- No more love at first sight.
Man.- We had to experiment with all those things, because pure love just wasn’t there anymore.
Woman.- it wasn’t our fault
Man.- We had to keep the flame burning.
Woman.- Nobody cares anymore.
Man.- still, I don’t think we invented homosexuality.
Woman.- We were wrong.
Man.- I thought that was what people wanted. Variety.
Woman.- We lost love.
Man.- We failed. I’m tired. I don’t want to keep on.
Woman.- We even tried computers and sex with machines.
Man. Uh yep! There were accidents. Bloody ones.
Woman.- you drank my blood too, honey remember?
Man.- It gives me nausea now. Menstruation no fun anymore.
Woman.- are we senile?
Man.- No, we just have to have the ultimate experience. Super sex.
Woman.- I don’t get it. We tried everything, even donkeys, and geese.
Man.- No, no, forget about third parties, humans or animals or toys just you and me.
Woman.- Conventional love doesn’t work anymore remember? No more hugs and tenderness in the street, even bondage and sadomasochism are out of fashion. By the way, they stole that name, we should’ve registered that.
Man.- Fuck Venus! You don’t get it do you? I’m talking about the end. We finished our mission. It’s over, we are not needed anymore, and lust must be erased from the Bible, just six capital sins…
Woman.- I can’t believe it, even sex was sold. Prostitutes were our big help.
Man.- (Raising his voice) you are not listening. Remember how do we define orgasm?
Woman.- The climax? The ecstasy? The…
Man.- Little death honey, the little Death. How long since you had a good orgasm.
Woman.- I can’t quite remember?
Man.- See? There’s just no motivation. No horses, no orgies, no kids, virginities, no nothing. We are just missing one thing to experience.
Woman.- You mean…
Man.- Yes, we did all we could didn’t we?
Woman.- I guess you are right
Man.- the little Death within Death.
Woman.- And what’s going to happen?
Man.- That’s the beauty of it, we don’t know. We didn’t know what was going to happen when we screwed dead bodies did we?
Woman.- It was fun, cold dinner. Ne-cro-phile Nice word.
Man.- See what I mean? Just fuck until the end, the last orgasm, you and me, synchronised. We cum and we go. No more victims, nobody cares anyway.
Woman.- Do you think that souls have sex?
Man.- I don’t have a clue. Maybe. We just have to start exploring again. Invisible love. Fleshless lust and fluidless sensuality.
Woman.- Cupid you are a genius!
Man.- Venus, let’s go when we first started.
Woman.- When we lost our virginities and unleashed this chain reaction.
Man.- Arsenic? O>D> of heroin? A dagger? What would it be?
Woman.- We can just fuck our brains out.
Man.- A gun isn’t very romantic.
Woman.- A bomb! Wired to our heartbeats, when we reached climax. Kaboom!
Man.- Too insecure. The old fashion venom: Cicuta. We put a capsule in our mouths we feel the little Death, we kiss, we bite, fill our mouth with sweetness and...
Woman.- Darkness
Man.- Or light.
Woman.- Who knows?
Man.- Lets do it my coquettish and voluptuous princess of lust.
Woman.- Whatever you say my match-maker beloved prince.
Man.- Let us kiss.
Woman.- I love you.
Man.- I love you too.
(They kiss with tenderness)
That night the ocean stopped his tide, the Earth colded, the skies cried, the Gods in despair went to the stars searching for something they just don’t know what. The air carried a strange scent of aphrodisiac heat, but after two screams of pleasure all faded away. Two Gods were dead. The bodies lying on top of each other. That night love and sex ceased to exist. Misunderstood and misinterpreted. Beauty was mourning. Human kind was doomed.
OSWALDO PEREZ CABRERA.
They had been sitting for two hours watching their faces reflecting in the cold cup of coffee, staring at each other with boredom drilling their bodies, their brains tired and a non-stop rain falling defying the patience of mortals.
(The coffee shop has a big window, beside it our heroes in a wooden table, the drops sliding down the crystal, all the other couples, and people in the small café have the same tiredness in their looks. Indifference.
Man.- I had it with sex. (Suddenly he broke the silence).
Woman. - Me too. (She agreed with the same tone of sickness).
Man.- I mean, I really had it.
Woman. - So, what’s your point?
Man.- What’s my point? What’s your wild sexual fantasy?
Woman.- I don’t know. Maybe make love while we are falling from the sky.
Man.- Be real. Besides, I think we did that.
Woman.- Well (doubtfully) you should know, I’ve told you many times.
Man.- Yeah, and we’ve fulfilled your fantasies so many times.
Woman.- Well…yes…so.
Man.- So that’s my point, we can’t go any further, and we have tried everything. It’s just so monotonous. We are loosing the sparkle.
Woman.- Yeah, you are right.
Man.- No fun. But we had great times.
Woman.- For sure, the greatest lovers on the face of the Earth.
Man.- Earth, I hate that. Like the time when we first met. You were sensuality and I was lust.
Woman.- Our first touch was lighting.
Man.- We looked in each other’s eyes.
Woman.- approaching wordless.
Man.- Your lips barely open, waiting to be kissed for the first time.
Woman.- We followed our instincts. We were made to love.
Man.- I kissed you softly, my tongue reached inside your mouth breathless, my hands searched for your exquisite breast, touched them doubtfully, then down your belly, your womb and to that wetness, the vortex of my imagination.
Woman.- you were shaking. I was sweating and feeling a delicious pain when your finger was exploring my inside.
Man.- I was astonished when your dress fell down to the ground, my erection was about to explode.
Woman.- (laughing) I was very much surprised when I saw your piece of meat. I couldn’t imagine it inside of me. It was enormous. I was so naïve.
Man.- I started kissing your neck and all your body inch by inch, your sweat tasted like strong liquor.
Woman.- Your tongue felt so right, your hard body pressing mine, so tender.
Man.- each drop like pearls and I left a wet path in your skin, a happy trail to your salty garden. That smell was like a drug. I thought I could die in there. Cunilingus: exquisite dish.
Woman.- (laughing) I was so ashamed, my body trembling. It felt so good.
Man.- I was exploring.
Woman.- I loved to be explored.
Man.- We unleashed something that day.
Woman.- Not until your penis was wandering around my thighs looking to get inside.
Man.- We invented something when I penetrated you. Ah! That feeling! We justified our existence.
Woman.- The flesh.
Man.- We almost fainted.
Woman.- We just couldn’t stop.
Man.- We must have invented a thousand positions.
Woman.- we became greedy.
Man.- The purpose of sex is reproduction.
Woman.- We ignored that.
Man.- Me on top, you on top, we standing. Oh! When we sucked our parts at the same time, you were sitting on my face, moaning, humid, you were licking, a puddle in my mouth.
Woman.- Oh yeah. Well your penis was gloaming with my saliva, it was beating like a heart. Felatio my dearest, a splendid dessert.
Man.- our bodies were throbbing.
Woman.- We were like a knot.
Man.- Then I discovered your anus. I think I touched your intestines with my sizzling tongue.
Woman.- And your dick. We invented sodomy.
Man.- your ass was tight. That smell used to keep me alive.
Woman.- The flavour of your semen. I must have drunk litres of it, dripping on my chin. I was inside of you too, with my finger remember? You rocking and I caressing your prostate.
Man.- You really moved me woman.
Woman.- Then we met this guy. The alcoholic one bac something.
Man.- And he introduced us to the wine.
Woman.- A new experience, we made love under its influence.
Man.- I drank it from your body.
Woman.- Sticky love, you lick it.
Man.- Sweat and sweet
Woman.- you smeared me with all kinds of stuff.
Man.- Well, you cooked and eat on my naked body.
Woman.- Then the trios, the menage au trois, the threesome.
Man.- we have a guest of every race in our bed.
Woman.- Men, women and all kinds of drugs. We tried them as they invented them.
Man.- But we didn’t invent homosexuality.
Woman.- not really, you were sodomized though, screaming like a woman.
Man.- Well, you had four men at the same time, your two hole occupied, your mouth busy and trying to satisfy the other fellow with your breasts.
Woman.- I did satisfy the guy.
Man.- Those orgies were mythical.
Woman.- Human labyrinths.
Man,- With a lot of holes to be filled.
Woman.- I think it was France. Yes, the young virgins, the priest, the studs, the royalty, the slaves, sexual humiliation, I was THE dominatrix.
Man.- No masks, no clothes, no social status.
Woman.- Hedonism at the max. Did we invent that word?
Man.- every one looking for the same thing. Out of them.
Woman.- We didn’t know if it was day or night. Everyone naked, some crying, some screaming, white eyes, fat, skinny, blondes, I don’t know. No complexes and a lot of fetishes. Fetish (thinking) Oh those French.
Man.- We had the toys.
Woman.- You loved the whip.
Man.- I punished you, left maps on your skin. You loved the sensation of pain. Your body was on fire begging for more.
Woman.- Yes my man, but you had your share too. Handcuffed, dressed in leather, beaten until ejaculation. Crucified giving me your sacred fluids.
Man.- Fluids! That’s a good one. You were fascinated every time you felt my urine in your body, the golden shower splashing in your soft skin.
Woman.- I even took a shit in your stomach. Remember the warm sensation? And what about peeing on your face.
Man.- I loved to sprinkle our guests.
Woman.- yeah, we knew some kinky people.
Man.- Sick people! Remember the wanna-be vampires? They drank your blood. They wouldn’t have an orgasm if they didn’t have some blood.
Woman.- yes, I remember a guy that had a razor blade in his teeth and cut us and himself, he giving it to me and you to him. You liked men’s asses.
Man.- Twisted. Little streams of blood.
Woman.- We became voyeurs and bisexuality? I think we started that. Women odour a splendid gift to my senses.
Man.- We masturbated each other in public places.
Woman.- The time when we tied that priest, I sucked his erection until he cried. From both sides that is.
Man.- I rapped a nun while you were playing with that artificial device.
Woman.- technology helped us a lot.
Man.- yes, fucking in airplanes, in trains, in stadiums, in every new place and every corner of the world.
Woman.- We witnessed and recorded a lot of sexual stories.
Man.- Paedophile! We even practice that. Oh the little ones!
Woman.- The animals, honey, you made me do things beyond my capacity.
Man.- I was getting bored. Orgasm used to be the little Death, now it’s just a… We have gone too far.
Woman.- The couples don’t kiss anymore.
Man.- Love is just overrated
Woman.- We can’t do anything, people just lost interest.
Man.- Me too. I tell you. No more holding hands.
Woman.- No more love at first sight.
Man.- We had to experiment with all those things, because pure love just wasn’t there anymore.
Woman.- it wasn’t our fault
Man.- We had to keep the flame burning.
Woman.- Nobody cares anymore.
Man.- still, I don’t think we invented homosexuality.
Woman.- We were wrong.
Man.- I thought that was what people wanted. Variety.
Woman.- We lost love.
Man.- We failed. I’m tired. I don’t want to keep on.
Woman.- We even tried computers and sex with machines.
Man. Uh yep! There were accidents. Bloody ones.
Woman.- you drank my blood too, honey remember?
Man.- It gives me nausea now. Menstruation no fun anymore.
Woman.- are we senile?
Man.- No, we just have to have the ultimate experience. Super sex.
Woman.- I don’t get it. We tried everything, even donkeys, and geese.
Man.- No, no, forget about third parties, humans or animals or toys just you and me.
Woman.- Conventional love doesn’t work anymore remember? No more hugs and tenderness in the street, even bondage and sadomasochism are out of fashion. By the way, they stole that name, we should’ve registered that.
Man.- Fuck Venus! You don’t get it do you? I’m talking about the end. We finished our mission. It’s over, we are not needed anymore, and lust must be erased from the Bible, just six capital sins…
Woman.- I can’t believe it, even sex was sold. Prostitutes were our big help.
Man.- (Raising his voice) you are not listening. Remember how do we define orgasm?
Woman.- The climax? The ecstasy? The…
Man.- Little death honey, the little Death. How long since you had a good orgasm.
Woman.- I can’t quite remember?
Man.- See? There’s just no motivation. No horses, no orgies, no kids, virginities, no nothing. We are just missing one thing to experience.
Woman.- You mean…
Man.- Yes, we did all we could didn’t we?
Woman.- I guess you are right
Man.- the little Death within Death.
Woman.- And what’s going to happen?
Man.- That’s the beauty of it, we don’t know. We didn’t know what was going to happen when we screwed dead bodies did we?
Woman.- It was fun, cold dinner. Ne-cro-phile Nice word.
Man.- See what I mean? Just fuck until the end, the last orgasm, you and me, synchronised. We cum and we go. No more victims, nobody cares anyway.
Woman.- Do you think that souls have sex?
Man.- I don’t have a clue. Maybe. We just have to start exploring again. Invisible love. Fleshless lust and fluidless sensuality.
Woman.- Cupid you are a genius!
Man.- Venus, let’s go when we first started.
Woman.- When we lost our virginities and unleashed this chain reaction.
Man.- Arsenic? O>D> of heroin? A dagger? What would it be?
Woman.- We can just fuck our brains out.
Man.- A gun isn’t very romantic.
Woman.- A bomb! Wired to our heartbeats, when we reached climax. Kaboom!
Man.- Too insecure. The old fashion venom: Cicuta. We put a capsule in our mouths we feel the little Death, we kiss, we bite, fill our mouth with sweetness and...
Woman.- Darkness
Man.- Or light.
Woman.- Who knows?
Man.- Lets do it my coquettish and voluptuous princess of lust.
Woman.- Whatever you say my match-maker beloved prince.
Man.- Let us kiss.
Woman.- I love you.
Man.- I love you too.
(They kiss with tenderness)
That night the ocean stopped his tide, the Earth colded, the skies cried, the Gods in despair went to the stars searching for something they just don’t know what. The air carried a strange scent of aphrodisiac heat, but after two screams of pleasure all faded away. Two Gods were dead. The bodies lying on top of each other. That night love and sex ceased to exist. Misunderstood and misinterpreted. Beauty was mourning. Human kind was doomed.
OSWALDO PEREZ CABRERA.
viernes, 30 de marzo de 2007
Alejandro Jodorowski Revisited
Jodorowski Revisited.
“I AM NOT GOING SO FAST TO CATCH THE DEATH NOR TOO SLOW FOR THE DEATH TO CATCH ME, A FILM EVERY SEVEN ANNUAL CYCLES IS ENOUGH.”
“EVERY DAY THE NEWSPAPER INSULT ME, EVERY DAY I HAVE A NEW PROBLEM WITH SOCIETY”
ALEJANDRO JODOROWSKI.
Essay by Oswaldo Pérez Cabrera originally appeared in Cannibal Culture, Cine Muerte magazine in Vancouver.
Jesus walks naked through the streets of Mexico City followed by a horde of whores while the military police bastards dance with their gas masks after having their blood feast. An elephant spits blood from his hose-trunk only to have his mortuary service as food to hundred of homeless mud people. A nine-year-old child ends the misery of an agonizing man with his pistol surrounded by a pool of blood in a desert old western town. Old women bet the right to kiss a fat stud in his underwear in the middle of a deserted mountain. Parades of freaks marching almost imperially - war toys designed to be used by conditioned children - orgies, massacre, death, spiritual life, and twisted religions. Welcome to the bizarre world of Alejandro Jodorowski, the Chilean multi-artist who can be considered one of the few citizens of the world and other dimensions, a term that every one of us should hang on our chest.
A lot has been said about his movies, and a lot more has been said about his other artistic expressions: mime artist, performer, happenings artist, theatre, comic, founder of the panique movement (with Moebius and Fernando Arrabal) and the horror circus, tarot card master, Psycho Magic, collaborator of the magazine Heavy Metal, etc. Yet, it is hard to classify his movies. We know they are considered cult films, but are they gore? Horror? Surrealistic? Mystic? Religious? Grotesque? We can draw one conclusion: His movies are all of that and more. People bleed, religions are questioned and satirised, the human mind is deeply explored, art is carried to the limits of the fantastic, music is used to disturb us as well, surreal images and symbols are a constant. We are required to see his films several times and everytime a new element or symbol will pop in our mind. Animals are used to play with our psyche and emotions. Sex and nudity are exploited as a natural part of our twisted society. Basically, if you are dumb, or have an unnatural moral, a square mind, and are easily disturbed, then don’t waste your time, and continue with your boring, routine life. In fact, if that is the case then you should stop reading this article as well. This will leave us with approximately 20% of the world population - the ones who are really thinking beyond their routines. Maybe I am being generous with the human race.
Art, sex and human values are taken to the extremes, so now you know, you have been warned. At one time Jodorowski said about his warped movies: “I think that if you want to change the world, you must first change the actors in the picture. And before doing that you must change yourself right? This must be done… I must kill myself and I must be born again… The audiences must be assassinated, killed, destroyed, and they must leave the theatre as new people. This is a good picture.” 1971.
He did what was stated above with his actors in “The Holy Mountain in 1972, as well as to himself in “El Topo” in 1969, and he was planning to do it in the movie that never was made, but promised to be a masterpiece of all arts combined: “Dunes”. Jodorowski was supposed to direct the project that was full of geniuses, such as Jean Girard (“Moebius”), a cartoon artist and designer with whom Jodorowski had collaborated before in the artistic comic world; H.R. Giger, who at the time was an unknown young artist, was supposed to design the … well that requires no further explanation and also Dan O’ Bannon, who later wrote the screenplay for Alien. The music was going to be composed by Pink Floyd and in the character of the Mad Professor (charging a fortune) the master of dimensions, the crazy genius, Salvador Dali. The project was abandoned after two years of work. In my personal opinion, I think that David Lynch (despite his artistic success with his films, Eraserhead and the Elephant Man) was not the right person to direct the film (which was adapted from the novel of Frank Herbert). This movie would have been a precursor to the Star Wars phenomenon but Hollywood didn’t believe in sci-fi movies and least of all a long expensive sci-fi movie. In the end, Jodorowski’s surrealistic vision will never be imitated.
I will give you a brief synopsis of four of his masterpieces, so you can go by yourself in this trip of mindscapes, gore, and dreamscapes.
“Fando y Lis” was considered to be lost for almost 30 years, a psychedelic trip that remains us of landscapes from Dante’s Inferno and weirder characters than those that Alice found in Wonderland. The movie had its premier, as strange as this sounds, in the Acapulco Film Festival in 1969; the outcome of the festival was as strange as it sounds as well, the cinema was destroyed and the director barely escaped. Mexico wasn’t prepared for this kind of surrealisms. Fando y Lis is a young couples that is looking for the mythic lost city of Tar where all their wishes should be granted. Lis can’t walk what makes Fando the head and the abusive part of the couple. In their trip they are descending into a mad world that makes Mad Max looks like a kids’ fair. The film is made in Mexico with Mexican actors. The film is based on a play by the multimediatic artist Fernando Arrabal and the two actors Sergio Kleiner and Silvia Mariscal are obliged to twist in a mime kind of way through the whole movie.
The trailer of that time which included a drawing of Fando standing on top of Lis who is pictured with six arachnid legs contains the next phrases which I believe will suit the description of the movie better. “An erotic odyssey…through the perverse…the phallic…the mystic…and the sadistic” “A trip into a Dantean inferno where no act is pagan or profane” or logical they might add, the movie is full with surrealistic allegories where everything it just could’ve been one of your nightmares. The film is a real mindbender trip of hallucinating nature.
El Topo, the film that catapulted the Chilean filmmaker to cult status, filmed in 1969 reminds us of a spaghetti western and opens when Jodorowski himself “El Topo” and his son are walking in a town where everybody has been murdered. We can see men women and children surrounded by pools of blood. The kid who is 9 years old has to finish off a dying man with his pistol. After that, father and son begin a quest to discover who has made this bloody parade. The next scenes include a showdown with three bandidos who are taken down by the guru-like Jodorowski. Women-like Catholic priests are humiliated and raped by brainless men under the orders of a sadist and meticulous colonel who also has a submissive woman. Everybody is saved from this hellish slavery by El Topo. The animals presented in these scenes are pigs. Why? It is the beginning of the journey (the first part of the movie called the Genesis) to achieve the Nirvana - the maximum knowledge. The castration of the church and the elimination of the military forces and dictatorships mark the Genesis. El Topo begins his quest joined by the submissive woman meanwhile leaving his son with the effeminate priests. He now has to find the true masters and kill them, sucking their knowledge. The first one is a fakir type who is served by two freaks that together make a grotesque symbiosis. He predicates meditation and at the end El Topo deceives the master and kills him along with the two- part human creature. The second master is deep in the desert. He and his companion look like Hungarian gypsies and predicate perfection, but one must kill vanity to trick perfection and at the end with the symbol of a lion El Topo cheats and kills them.
The second part is called “The prophets” and began with the quest to find the third master who is an Indian harvesting a horde of rabbits. All the rabbits died when El Topo arrives and because too much perfection is a mistake, he wins by lying again. The fourth master who lives in the centre of the desert is a maharishi, a guru type who taught the ultimate lesson and humbly kill himself before the eyes of El Topo who is now the deceive one.
El Topo finds another woman, a devilish lady who started introducing masochism and lesbianism into the trio. The women later planned to kill El Topo who is left in a comatose state and is rescued by a freak community that lives underground. The third part or the “psalms: began here when he adopts a Hare Krishna look after a revelation and became the Shaman and Messiah of the freaks, whose purpose was to emerge to the surface. It was written that El Topo was the chosen one to help the community to leave the depths, but in the surface a strange society rules, a combination of a western town full of Masons, Lutherans, Slaves, Aristocrats, and a political religious party. Then the last part of the movie or the Apocalypse began when the midgets and freaks came to the upper world after all the sacrifices of El Topo and his midget lover. There are more surprises and symbols (the symbols are used in the way we use them now; they stick into our minds in form of subliminal messages. He explores some of the weapons of manipulation) to come, but is not the intention here to give away the movie, but only to give glimpses of it. El Topo ignores all traditional approaches to narrative and characterisation to become an innovative film.
The next movie and more psychedelic is The Holy Mountain, filmed in Mexico City in 1972. It is about a Master who recruits 9 thieves and teaches them to kill themselves in order to seek the great masters in the Holy Mountain; of course the movie is again full of symbolisms. Animals are a constant, like in a scene where the conquest of Mexico is represented by iguanas and frogs in a model of Tenochtitlan; the scene becomes bloody when the Spaniards take the city. We can see the freaks as an important part of his filmography, the rediscovery of aesthetics, the occidental beauty is questioned, and our heroes are mostly ugly to our conception. One of the thieves is a representation of Christ who has a horde of whores following him. He is beaten up and used as a marketing device and finds himself surrounded with hundreds of images of himself. So after this new birth and beginning, he enters the world of the Hermetic, Alchemy and chromatic psychedelic contained in a concrete tower. The thieves, who will go on a quest for the ultimate truth, are represented by the planets and put in a fantastic, apocalyptic, doomed and even crueller world than the one we live in. The first thief is Venus, who represents beauty, sex, polygamy, appearance, masks, sex slavery, and other perversions. The industry is bizarre love. Then we have the thief represented by Mars, which as a god of war shows weapons, bombs, but also polygamy, sex slaves, religion and dogs. Klen is the next one and represents Jupiter and we see fish, hedonism, art, and sexual art like the giant electric vagina (which has orgasms). Sel comes from Saturn, and is the one in charge of conditioning the children to create war with other human races (in this specific time the Peruvians) to exterminate them and keep the economy rolling, the industry is the war toys and is linked directly to the government and politics. Uranus explores the Oedipus complex, communications, and is the bizarre advisor to the president. Neptune is the chief of police and is perverse, evil, foments a cult of killing and of course, bloody massacres can be seen. Pluto is the games, art nouveau, housing, the industry is the coffins. The last one of course is our Christ. So they are trained to join their powers as one and began their hallucinatory trip by burning their money and killing themselves to reborn as one being in their true essence. They take powerful drugs and go to places like the huge graveyard bar, where you can find all the people that were in search of the masters but preferred to stay in this crazy purgatory. Again, the end and the rest of the adventures are totally pshycotropic so I cannot go any further with the rest of the descriptions. This film is a strong critic of the modern societies and in particular de developed countries.
In the last movie of this article Santa Sangre filmed in Mexico City in 1989, Jodorowski teams with the Italian master of horror Dario Argento as a producer and cast his son (Adan Jodorowski) as the main character. The story is based on a serial killer that terrified Mexico City in the 50’s: Goyo Cardenas who murdered tens of women. Again Jodorowski plays with the animal symbols and the surrealistic that comes inherent with the most populated city in the world. The story is developed in the circus, and starts as a love story between the young killer and a young mime after the mother’s church is tear down by the government and the catholic religion. The story focuses also on the cults. The killer’s mother is defending her religion based on a woman who lost her arms when a couple of thieves rapped her. According to the faith, the blood left a pool where they built the temple. Later the mother will suffer the same fate as her idol. The picture depicts a bizarre and macabre life in the circus, however full of art, theatrical and mime expressions as well as music and dance. The movie is beautifully gory.
Then we see the killer escape from a mental institution and reunites with his armless mother and the killing begins along with the unique vision of Mexico’s low life scenarios and semi-cultural life. The love interest is played by Sabina Dennison and is a deaf mute girl with a white face. The acting of Blanca Guerra as the mother and the performances of Jodorowksi’s son are extraordinary. Some powerful shots are when Blanca Guerra losses her arms, when the female ghosts came back to haunt Felix in a graveyard in the back of his house in ruins or when a dead elephant is thrown to the homeless mud people. We can see that his influences include Buñuel, Fellini, Freud, Breton, Philip k. Dick, etc.
The rest is up to the viewer, but let me warn you that this dark movie is depressing, but beautifully obscure. These were some glimpses to a visionary and warp world of one of the most complicated minds of our time. Currently he is working with Fernando Arau in the second part of El Topo called “The Sons of El Topo” but you never know with the extravagant souls. My final recommendations, see the movies with extreme caution and expect anything, expect to be annoyed and disturbed, at the end that is the purpose: To kill the audience.
After reviewing the classical cult movies of this Chilean multi-artist, let’s proceed to give some information that you would not find on any web site. In my writing career I have found that when you are dealing with surrealist poetry or short stories, people tend to imagine and understand the contents according to the way each one of them has been living. Sometimes a reader that comments on a short story sees a symbolism or a metaphor that I didn’t intend to put there, nonetheless it works perfectly. I think when we are dealing with a complex mind like Jodorowski’s we can apply the same principle. It is very difficult to fully understand all that he is trying to show but you will have a lot of fun trying to understand his movies, especially because you will have to use your brain.
What it is clear to me is that he likes to mock the religions and the human race in general. But he takes this mockery and satire to the extreme, making it harsh for the viewer with a weak stomach due to some very graphic scenes. But the maximum mockery comes with the ending of Holy Mountain. If you saw it, you know what I am talking about. We humans generally go through a lot to try to achieve our goals. We even step on people and succumb to evilness to get what we want and at the end what is the point? At the end it is all just like a big game and the result that we were hoping to achieve is not as good as we thought it would be. Then we become greedy, obsessed, unsatisfied, like Oligarchs because we don’t know how to enjoy what we have - the parody of Jesus walking in the streets of Mexico City, the most surrealistic city in the world, searching for his salvation turning down his life with prostitutes and the potential marketing of his image. At the end, after he went through the teachings of the master he ends up with… nothing. In the same way the audience, that Jodorowski likes to involve so much, ends up wondering what it was all for. At the end the result doesn’t matter, we have to enjoy every moment of the process while it lasts and then be reborn to another process or into another movie.
In Santa Sangre he explores the Oedipus complex to the excessive levels of a hallucinatory trip caused by a very traumatic experience. In Jodorowski’s world everything is taken to the extreme. Another astonishing image is when in the corrupted environment of the circus, an elephant dies spitting blood from its trunk. Some say that an elephant represents wisdom. Then wisdom spits blood and dies and then it is thrown to a horde of hungry mud-people. The meaning of this symbolism here is that wisdom can only be used for a certain time, like food, eventually it will be devoured by the people and became useless like everything in the world, like every cycle of life. There is the eagle tattooed on the chest of the owner of the circus. The mighty eagle that represents the commercialism of the Yankees is a sort of dictatorship arranging the problems and disputes of the members of the circus. The owner does so with a raunchy oligarch and authoritarian attitude and is unable to solve his own problems, problems that end up killing him in a painful way. This metaphor is very interesting because the owner represents the authority (he is actually from the US). The authority (the Yankees) that wants to be the police of the world but at the same time they create wars so they can sell their weapons which is one of their major businesses. This topic is also explored by Jodorowski in Holy Mountain where kids are conditioned to kill and create more wars so that the economy keeps on flowing. He is a strong and merciless analyst of our twisted society.
The exploration of settings is a bonus in Jodorowski’s movies; from the gothic settings of Santa Sangre, especially when the victims rise to haunt the murderer, to the western and desolated setting in El Topo. I think his intention is to always create a parallel world full of nightmarish landscapes where anything can happen and only he is capable of taking us back from his personal dimension. The characters are also a little metaphysical, grotesque and above all, very interesting - all full of a bizarre psychology.
The love interest of the antihero in Santa Sangre is a deaf mute, abused child who resembles a harlequin and symbolizes purity in some sense because she escaped from evilness and is tries to do the same with the antihero, like the mythical bird the Phoenix which rises from the ashes.
She is a freak as well. The freaks are one of the most important characters in his movies. Freaks of all kinds: evil freaks, short freaks, disabled freaks, ugly freaks, beautiful freaks, etc. ‘The freak’ by definition is someone that is abnormal or subnormal, that because of his/her special condition is considered a curiosity or an oddity. But if we think deeper aren’t we all are freaks of some sort? Who is to say where to draw the line that separates normality from abnormality? We all are freaks in one sense or another. Isn’t society a freak entity that no longer lives in balance with nature? The president that executes somebody because of his-her political ideas - that president is a freak! The soldier that follows that order and kills - he is a freak too! The ones that fight in a war, those are freaks too. The priest that fucks expensive women and the next day ask for money to the church members, he is a freak, as well as all the parishioners that do exactly what he says; pedophiles, rapists, women beaters, etc. All freaks of nature. That is the point that I believe Jodorowski is trying to make. “Freakness” can be applied to everybody. You don’t have to be a midget or have three arms or have a tumor the size or a watermelon to be a freak. In the end we are a race of freaks. “We have to kill the audience” “We have to be born again”. The question is: Is the world that we live in as different as the chaotic world of Jodorowski? We have the same fanatics ruling countries, the same religious leaders, the same surrealistic environments, the same cruel killings or massacres. Genocides. Kids are inhaling cement on dirty streets and we become freaks because we just keep walking throwing them a coin or a piece of bread. We become insensitive which I believe is a quality of “Feakness” and then we cry with a stinking Julia Roberts film - pretty pathetic!
The prostitutes walking the dirty alleys looking to escape from reality at the beginning of Holy Mountain. The prostitutes are following a doubtful Jesus who represents a crumbling faith, but they follow him where? Nothing good results from following religion scams in his movies and in real life. It’s the same thing with the politicians. Jodorowski explores all religions sometimes combining them, sometimes being obvious, but always mocking them in one way or the other. He destroys all religions in El Topo and creates his own version of a martyr saving the new race (which is made of freaks) that seems more normal than the inhabitants of the surface.
So what Jodorowski is exposing is the destruction of ourselves as we know ourselves to be but not such a drastic destruction. It is more of a sardonic and ironic destruction of our inner selfish beings. In other words, we mock ourselves because of the way we are, the stupid things that we do, like kill another human being, and destroy all that by laughing and satirizing until we are disgusted by our ways then we can be reborn. We killed ourselves and we can start all over again, then the term freak will be erased from the dictionary because we will not consider anybody strange anymore.
That is the secret message of Jodorowski, but to get to it, you have to go through all the horrors that we have created.
OSWALDO PÉREZ CABRERA.
“I AM NOT GOING SO FAST TO CATCH THE DEATH NOR TOO SLOW FOR THE DEATH TO CATCH ME, A FILM EVERY SEVEN ANNUAL CYCLES IS ENOUGH.”
“EVERY DAY THE NEWSPAPER INSULT ME, EVERY DAY I HAVE A NEW PROBLEM WITH SOCIETY”
ALEJANDRO JODOROWSKI.
Essay by Oswaldo Pérez Cabrera originally appeared in Cannibal Culture, Cine Muerte magazine in Vancouver.
Jesus walks naked through the streets of Mexico City followed by a horde of whores while the military police bastards dance with their gas masks after having their blood feast. An elephant spits blood from his hose-trunk only to have his mortuary service as food to hundred of homeless mud people. A nine-year-old child ends the misery of an agonizing man with his pistol surrounded by a pool of blood in a desert old western town. Old women bet the right to kiss a fat stud in his underwear in the middle of a deserted mountain. Parades of freaks marching almost imperially - war toys designed to be used by conditioned children - orgies, massacre, death, spiritual life, and twisted religions. Welcome to the bizarre world of Alejandro Jodorowski, the Chilean multi-artist who can be considered one of the few citizens of the world and other dimensions, a term that every one of us should hang on our chest.
A lot has been said about his movies, and a lot more has been said about his other artistic expressions: mime artist, performer, happenings artist, theatre, comic, founder of the panique movement (with Moebius and Fernando Arrabal) and the horror circus, tarot card master, Psycho Magic, collaborator of the magazine Heavy Metal, etc. Yet, it is hard to classify his movies. We know they are considered cult films, but are they gore? Horror? Surrealistic? Mystic? Religious? Grotesque? We can draw one conclusion: His movies are all of that and more. People bleed, religions are questioned and satirised, the human mind is deeply explored, art is carried to the limits of the fantastic, music is used to disturb us as well, surreal images and symbols are a constant. We are required to see his films several times and everytime a new element or symbol will pop in our mind. Animals are used to play with our psyche and emotions. Sex and nudity are exploited as a natural part of our twisted society. Basically, if you are dumb, or have an unnatural moral, a square mind, and are easily disturbed, then don’t waste your time, and continue with your boring, routine life. In fact, if that is the case then you should stop reading this article as well. This will leave us with approximately 20% of the world population - the ones who are really thinking beyond their routines. Maybe I am being generous with the human race.
Art, sex and human values are taken to the extremes, so now you know, you have been warned. At one time Jodorowski said about his warped movies: “I think that if you want to change the world, you must first change the actors in the picture. And before doing that you must change yourself right? This must be done… I must kill myself and I must be born again… The audiences must be assassinated, killed, destroyed, and they must leave the theatre as new people. This is a good picture.” 1971.
He did what was stated above with his actors in “The Holy Mountain in 1972, as well as to himself in “El Topo” in 1969, and he was planning to do it in the movie that never was made, but promised to be a masterpiece of all arts combined: “Dunes”. Jodorowski was supposed to direct the project that was full of geniuses, such as Jean Girard (“Moebius”), a cartoon artist and designer with whom Jodorowski had collaborated before in the artistic comic world; H.R. Giger, who at the time was an unknown young artist, was supposed to design the … well that requires no further explanation and also Dan O’ Bannon, who later wrote the screenplay for Alien. The music was going to be composed by Pink Floyd and in the character of the Mad Professor (charging a fortune) the master of dimensions, the crazy genius, Salvador Dali. The project was abandoned after two years of work. In my personal opinion, I think that David Lynch (despite his artistic success with his films, Eraserhead and the Elephant Man) was not the right person to direct the film (which was adapted from the novel of Frank Herbert). This movie would have been a precursor to the Star Wars phenomenon but Hollywood didn’t believe in sci-fi movies and least of all a long expensive sci-fi movie. In the end, Jodorowski’s surrealistic vision will never be imitated.
I will give you a brief synopsis of four of his masterpieces, so you can go by yourself in this trip of mindscapes, gore, and dreamscapes.
“Fando y Lis” was considered to be lost for almost 30 years, a psychedelic trip that remains us of landscapes from Dante’s Inferno and weirder characters than those that Alice found in Wonderland. The movie had its premier, as strange as this sounds, in the Acapulco Film Festival in 1969; the outcome of the festival was as strange as it sounds as well, the cinema was destroyed and the director barely escaped. Mexico wasn’t prepared for this kind of surrealisms. Fando y Lis is a young couples that is looking for the mythic lost city of Tar where all their wishes should be granted. Lis can’t walk what makes Fando the head and the abusive part of the couple. In their trip they are descending into a mad world that makes Mad Max looks like a kids’ fair. The film is made in Mexico with Mexican actors. The film is based on a play by the multimediatic artist Fernando Arrabal and the two actors Sergio Kleiner and Silvia Mariscal are obliged to twist in a mime kind of way through the whole movie.
The trailer of that time which included a drawing of Fando standing on top of Lis who is pictured with six arachnid legs contains the next phrases which I believe will suit the description of the movie better. “An erotic odyssey…through the perverse…the phallic…the mystic…and the sadistic” “A trip into a Dantean inferno where no act is pagan or profane” or logical they might add, the movie is full with surrealistic allegories where everything it just could’ve been one of your nightmares. The film is a real mindbender trip of hallucinating nature.
El Topo, the film that catapulted the Chilean filmmaker to cult status, filmed in 1969 reminds us of a spaghetti western and opens when Jodorowski himself “El Topo” and his son are walking in a town where everybody has been murdered. We can see men women and children surrounded by pools of blood. The kid who is 9 years old has to finish off a dying man with his pistol. After that, father and son begin a quest to discover who has made this bloody parade. The next scenes include a showdown with three bandidos who are taken down by the guru-like Jodorowski. Women-like Catholic priests are humiliated and raped by brainless men under the orders of a sadist and meticulous colonel who also has a submissive woman. Everybody is saved from this hellish slavery by El Topo. The animals presented in these scenes are pigs. Why? It is the beginning of the journey (the first part of the movie called the Genesis) to achieve the Nirvana - the maximum knowledge. The castration of the church and the elimination of the military forces and dictatorships mark the Genesis. El Topo begins his quest joined by the submissive woman meanwhile leaving his son with the effeminate priests. He now has to find the true masters and kill them, sucking their knowledge. The first one is a fakir type who is served by two freaks that together make a grotesque symbiosis. He predicates meditation and at the end El Topo deceives the master and kills him along with the two- part human creature. The second master is deep in the desert. He and his companion look like Hungarian gypsies and predicate perfection, but one must kill vanity to trick perfection and at the end with the symbol of a lion El Topo cheats and kills them.
The second part is called “The prophets” and began with the quest to find the third master who is an Indian harvesting a horde of rabbits. All the rabbits died when El Topo arrives and because too much perfection is a mistake, he wins by lying again. The fourth master who lives in the centre of the desert is a maharishi, a guru type who taught the ultimate lesson and humbly kill himself before the eyes of El Topo who is now the deceive one.
El Topo finds another woman, a devilish lady who started introducing masochism and lesbianism into the trio. The women later planned to kill El Topo who is left in a comatose state and is rescued by a freak community that lives underground. The third part or the “psalms: began here when he adopts a Hare Krishna look after a revelation and became the Shaman and Messiah of the freaks, whose purpose was to emerge to the surface. It was written that El Topo was the chosen one to help the community to leave the depths, but in the surface a strange society rules, a combination of a western town full of Masons, Lutherans, Slaves, Aristocrats, and a political religious party. Then the last part of the movie or the Apocalypse began when the midgets and freaks came to the upper world after all the sacrifices of El Topo and his midget lover. There are more surprises and symbols (the symbols are used in the way we use them now; they stick into our minds in form of subliminal messages. He explores some of the weapons of manipulation) to come, but is not the intention here to give away the movie, but only to give glimpses of it. El Topo ignores all traditional approaches to narrative and characterisation to become an innovative film.
The next movie and more psychedelic is The Holy Mountain, filmed in Mexico City in 1972. It is about a Master who recruits 9 thieves and teaches them to kill themselves in order to seek the great masters in the Holy Mountain; of course the movie is again full of symbolisms. Animals are a constant, like in a scene where the conquest of Mexico is represented by iguanas and frogs in a model of Tenochtitlan; the scene becomes bloody when the Spaniards take the city. We can see the freaks as an important part of his filmography, the rediscovery of aesthetics, the occidental beauty is questioned, and our heroes are mostly ugly to our conception. One of the thieves is a representation of Christ who has a horde of whores following him. He is beaten up and used as a marketing device and finds himself surrounded with hundreds of images of himself. So after this new birth and beginning, he enters the world of the Hermetic, Alchemy and chromatic psychedelic contained in a concrete tower. The thieves, who will go on a quest for the ultimate truth, are represented by the planets and put in a fantastic, apocalyptic, doomed and even crueller world than the one we live in. The first thief is Venus, who represents beauty, sex, polygamy, appearance, masks, sex slavery, and other perversions. The industry is bizarre love. Then we have the thief represented by Mars, which as a god of war shows weapons, bombs, but also polygamy, sex slaves, religion and dogs. Klen is the next one and represents Jupiter and we see fish, hedonism, art, and sexual art like the giant electric vagina (which has orgasms). Sel comes from Saturn, and is the one in charge of conditioning the children to create war with other human races (in this specific time the Peruvians) to exterminate them and keep the economy rolling, the industry is the war toys and is linked directly to the government and politics. Uranus explores the Oedipus complex, communications, and is the bizarre advisor to the president. Neptune is the chief of police and is perverse, evil, foments a cult of killing and of course, bloody massacres can be seen. Pluto is the games, art nouveau, housing, the industry is the coffins. The last one of course is our Christ. So they are trained to join their powers as one and began their hallucinatory trip by burning their money and killing themselves to reborn as one being in their true essence. They take powerful drugs and go to places like the huge graveyard bar, where you can find all the people that were in search of the masters but preferred to stay in this crazy purgatory. Again, the end and the rest of the adventures are totally pshycotropic so I cannot go any further with the rest of the descriptions. This film is a strong critic of the modern societies and in particular de developed countries.
In the last movie of this article Santa Sangre filmed in Mexico City in 1989, Jodorowski teams with the Italian master of horror Dario Argento as a producer and cast his son (Adan Jodorowski) as the main character. The story is based on a serial killer that terrified Mexico City in the 50’s: Goyo Cardenas who murdered tens of women. Again Jodorowski plays with the animal symbols and the surrealistic that comes inherent with the most populated city in the world. The story is developed in the circus, and starts as a love story between the young killer and a young mime after the mother’s church is tear down by the government and the catholic religion. The story focuses also on the cults. The killer’s mother is defending her religion based on a woman who lost her arms when a couple of thieves rapped her. According to the faith, the blood left a pool where they built the temple. Later the mother will suffer the same fate as her idol. The picture depicts a bizarre and macabre life in the circus, however full of art, theatrical and mime expressions as well as music and dance. The movie is beautifully gory.
Then we see the killer escape from a mental institution and reunites with his armless mother and the killing begins along with the unique vision of Mexico’s low life scenarios and semi-cultural life. The love interest is played by Sabina Dennison and is a deaf mute girl with a white face. The acting of Blanca Guerra as the mother and the performances of Jodorowksi’s son are extraordinary. Some powerful shots are when Blanca Guerra losses her arms, when the female ghosts came back to haunt Felix in a graveyard in the back of his house in ruins or when a dead elephant is thrown to the homeless mud people. We can see that his influences include Buñuel, Fellini, Freud, Breton, Philip k. Dick, etc.
The rest is up to the viewer, but let me warn you that this dark movie is depressing, but beautifully obscure. These were some glimpses to a visionary and warp world of one of the most complicated minds of our time. Currently he is working with Fernando Arau in the second part of El Topo called “The Sons of El Topo” but you never know with the extravagant souls. My final recommendations, see the movies with extreme caution and expect anything, expect to be annoyed and disturbed, at the end that is the purpose: To kill the audience.
After reviewing the classical cult movies of this Chilean multi-artist, let’s proceed to give some information that you would not find on any web site. In my writing career I have found that when you are dealing with surrealist poetry or short stories, people tend to imagine and understand the contents according to the way each one of them has been living. Sometimes a reader that comments on a short story sees a symbolism or a metaphor that I didn’t intend to put there, nonetheless it works perfectly. I think when we are dealing with a complex mind like Jodorowski’s we can apply the same principle. It is very difficult to fully understand all that he is trying to show but you will have a lot of fun trying to understand his movies, especially because you will have to use your brain.
What it is clear to me is that he likes to mock the religions and the human race in general. But he takes this mockery and satire to the extreme, making it harsh for the viewer with a weak stomach due to some very graphic scenes. But the maximum mockery comes with the ending of Holy Mountain. If you saw it, you know what I am talking about. We humans generally go through a lot to try to achieve our goals. We even step on people and succumb to evilness to get what we want and at the end what is the point? At the end it is all just like a big game and the result that we were hoping to achieve is not as good as we thought it would be. Then we become greedy, obsessed, unsatisfied, like Oligarchs because we don’t know how to enjoy what we have - the parody of Jesus walking in the streets of Mexico City, the most surrealistic city in the world, searching for his salvation turning down his life with prostitutes and the potential marketing of his image. At the end, after he went through the teachings of the master he ends up with… nothing. In the same way the audience, that Jodorowski likes to involve so much, ends up wondering what it was all for. At the end the result doesn’t matter, we have to enjoy every moment of the process while it lasts and then be reborn to another process or into another movie.
In Santa Sangre he explores the Oedipus complex to the excessive levels of a hallucinatory trip caused by a very traumatic experience. In Jodorowski’s world everything is taken to the extreme. Another astonishing image is when in the corrupted environment of the circus, an elephant dies spitting blood from its trunk. Some say that an elephant represents wisdom. Then wisdom spits blood and dies and then it is thrown to a horde of hungry mud-people. The meaning of this symbolism here is that wisdom can only be used for a certain time, like food, eventually it will be devoured by the people and became useless like everything in the world, like every cycle of life. There is the eagle tattooed on the chest of the owner of the circus. The mighty eagle that represents the commercialism of the Yankees is a sort of dictatorship arranging the problems and disputes of the members of the circus. The owner does so with a raunchy oligarch and authoritarian attitude and is unable to solve his own problems, problems that end up killing him in a painful way. This metaphor is very interesting because the owner represents the authority (he is actually from the US). The authority (the Yankees) that wants to be the police of the world but at the same time they create wars so they can sell their weapons which is one of their major businesses. This topic is also explored by Jodorowski in Holy Mountain where kids are conditioned to kill and create more wars so that the economy keeps on flowing. He is a strong and merciless analyst of our twisted society.
The exploration of settings is a bonus in Jodorowski’s movies; from the gothic settings of Santa Sangre, especially when the victims rise to haunt the murderer, to the western and desolated setting in El Topo. I think his intention is to always create a parallel world full of nightmarish landscapes where anything can happen and only he is capable of taking us back from his personal dimension. The characters are also a little metaphysical, grotesque and above all, very interesting - all full of a bizarre psychology.
The love interest of the antihero in Santa Sangre is a deaf mute, abused child who resembles a harlequin and symbolizes purity in some sense because she escaped from evilness and is tries to do the same with the antihero, like the mythical bird the Phoenix which rises from the ashes.
She is a freak as well. The freaks are one of the most important characters in his movies. Freaks of all kinds: evil freaks, short freaks, disabled freaks, ugly freaks, beautiful freaks, etc. ‘The freak’ by definition is someone that is abnormal or subnormal, that because of his/her special condition is considered a curiosity or an oddity. But if we think deeper aren’t we all are freaks of some sort? Who is to say where to draw the line that separates normality from abnormality? We all are freaks in one sense or another. Isn’t society a freak entity that no longer lives in balance with nature? The president that executes somebody because of his-her political ideas - that president is a freak! The soldier that follows that order and kills - he is a freak too! The ones that fight in a war, those are freaks too. The priest that fucks expensive women and the next day ask for money to the church members, he is a freak, as well as all the parishioners that do exactly what he says; pedophiles, rapists, women beaters, etc. All freaks of nature. That is the point that I believe Jodorowski is trying to make. “Freakness” can be applied to everybody. You don’t have to be a midget or have three arms or have a tumor the size or a watermelon to be a freak. In the end we are a race of freaks. “We have to kill the audience” “We have to be born again”. The question is: Is the world that we live in as different as the chaotic world of Jodorowski? We have the same fanatics ruling countries, the same religious leaders, the same surrealistic environments, the same cruel killings or massacres. Genocides. Kids are inhaling cement on dirty streets and we become freaks because we just keep walking throwing them a coin or a piece of bread. We become insensitive which I believe is a quality of “Feakness” and then we cry with a stinking Julia Roberts film - pretty pathetic!
The prostitutes walking the dirty alleys looking to escape from reality at the beginning of Holy Mountain. The prostitutes are following a doubtful Jesus who represents a crumbling faith, but they follow him where? Nothing good results from following religion scams in his movies and in real life. It’s the same thing with the politicians. Jodorowski explores all religions sometimes combining them, sometimes being obvious, but always mocking them in one way or the other. He destroys all religions in El Topo and creates his own version of a martyr saving the new race (which is made of freaks) that seems more normal than the inhabitants of the surface.
So what Jodorowski is exposing is the destruction of ourselves as we know ourselves to be but not such a drastic destruction. It is more of a sardonic and ironic destruction of our inner selfish beings. In other words, we mock ourselves because of the way we are, the stupid things that we do, like kill another human being, and destroy all that by laughing and satirizing until we are disgusted by our ways then we can be reborn. We killed ourselves and we can start all over again, then the term freak will be erased from the dictionary because we will not consider anybody strange anymore.
That is the secret message of Jodorowski, but to get to it, you have to go through all the horrors that we have created.
OSWALDO PÉREZ CABRERA.
lunes, 26 de marzo de 2007
sustracted Vision (the Movie)
SUSTRACTED VISION
DAY- EXT. HIGHWAY
Three teenagers driving in an old car laughing and singing. An Offspring song (Bad habit) is playing on the radio. The three teenagers are following the beat of the song with their hands and feet.
TITLE TREVOR
Freeze frame on Trevor’s laughing; he is driving (blonde, blue eyes, handsome, skinny).
TITLE CARLOS
Freeze frame on Carlos laughing, he is the co-pilot. (dark hair, dark eyes, braces, attractive)
TITLE BOB
Freeze frame on Bob’s face, his eyes are closed on the back seat (brown hair, glasses, freckles, nerd type).
DAY- EXT. FANCY NEIGHBOURHOOD
Carlos
Where is the party?
Trevor
Chill out. It must be around here
Close up to a condom on the compartment saying “blind date”.
Bob
There! There it is (Pointing at the crowd)
Trevor
Wow! Check out those chicks!
Bob
I don’t know…It’s seems too fancy. Maybe we should forget about this
Carlos
Whatever, with that attitude you will be a virgin all your life.
Trevor
(Shouting to a girl) Hey Baby!
They park near the house; they are driving an old Chevy. The house is big; we can see a large, nice garden through the black fence.
Trevor grabs the condom.
The three kids show their invitation at the door. They entered with amazed faces; they cannot believe their eyes. It seems is the first time they see all this opulence.
In the middle of the garden there is a pool. A sophisticated stereo spits cheesy music like the Backstreet Boys and Britaney Spears.
The entire crowd is beautiful, young and wealthy. Our heroes are a normal middle class type trying to fit in a different status.
EXT. GARDEN. DAY
Bob
So who invited you to this party anyway?
Trevor
Remember Tony, my oldest sister’s ex-boyfriend, the one with a monkey face?
Well let’s say that he owed me a favor, so you know he is a DJ right?
So he knows this guy who is the boyfriend of the girl who knows the guy
who owns the house. You have to be connected guys.
Carlos
Oh for fuck’s sake
Trevor
Hey! Let’s go to the bar. Free drinks my friends.
Bob
I don’t know. I took some vitamins in the morning.
Trevor
Come on don’t be a wimp. Carlos?
Carlos
Yeah sure, why not, let’s get drunk.
Trevor
You’ll see I bet they have all kinds of drinks.
They head towards the bartender who is a girl is her mid twenties wearing a provocative outfit; she is gorgeous, blonde with a nice body. She doesn’t bother to ask for ID.
Trevor
(as they walk) Booze, girls, music, this is paradise
Bob
Remember that you have to drive Trevor
Trevor
Oh just shut up and drink, this is once in a lifetime.
(to the bartender) Hi sweetheart, three beers and three shots of your finest tequila for starters please
Carlos
Cheers
Trevor
Cheers
Bob
Cheers
They drink making exclamations and cheering everytime a nice looking girl walks by.
Stranger
Hey boys. Having fun?
The stranger is about 28 years old, fancy suit, he looks kinda drunk but with a lot of mileage on him.
Trevor
Yeah. Good party.
Stranger
This parties suck man. I’ll tell you. Lots of drugs around.
See that couple (pointing at a couple that is snorting cocaine on a table)
Cocaine. See that group. They are on acid. They don’t know how to use drugs.
Have you ever done drugs boys?
Carlos denies with his head.
Bob
No (looks uncomfortable)
Stranger
Drugs are meant to expand your conscience, your horizon, your mind.
Not just to get you stupid like these yuppies. You know what you should do?
Get yourselves some nice, decent girls and get the hell out of here
Carlos
Have you ever done drugs mister…
Stranger
Jones, Mr. Jones. Call me Jay. Yes I have done some, but only as an experiment.
For example, once I had this beautiful girl you know, big tits, nice ass, we were on hallucinogens.
What a trip! You know, touching her softly, undressing her, penetrating her with your
sensations awaken paradise on Earth boys. Paradise on Earth.
Carlos
What happened to her?
Stranger
She left me for some coke addict. A banker. But that is not important, now the
Important issue here is to know how to enjoy yourselves while you are still young.
Trevor
Look at that guy’s girl, man. She is gorgeous.
Stranger
His father is a policeman. Narcotics division. He is just being a rebel: Drugs and bimbos.
Anyway boys, have fun
Carlos
And what exactly are you doing here if you don’t like the crowd?
Stranger
(as he walks away) I provide the drugs to these people
Bob
What a strange, weird and mysterious guy
Carlos
Aren’t those synonyms?
Trevor
Let’s get another drink. Vodka Gentlemen?
Carlos
Yeah. What the fuck
CUT TO:
DAY. INT. HOUSE
Carlos and Bob are waiting for the washroom. Carlos really needs to go. There is a great body girl ahead of them.
Carlos
I am going to look for another John
Bob
Ok man.
Finally the girl goes into the washroom, she is so high that leaves the door ajar, so now from Bob’s POV we see the girl putting her jeans down slowly showing her naked from the waist down. Bob blushes and slowly starts to masturbate rubbing himself. The camera jumps from Bob’s face of pleasure, to his hands rubbing his penis and now to Bob’s POV watching the girl peeing. She finishes, puts her pants back on and stares at herself in the mirror, and goes out of the washroom, she sees Bob and smiles at him, he comes closing his eyes. A couple is waiting, looking at Bob with a disgusted face.
DAY. INT. BATHROOM
Bob is cleaning himself up. He seems ashamed of himself.
CUT TO:
DAY INT. ANOTHER PART OF THE HOUSE
Carlos found another bathroom, we see him coming out of the washroom. He is looking around with curiosity, amazed by the house, when suddenly he sees a door ajar and hears some noises, he peeps and we see his POV a couple making love, the girl is on top with her breast showing, she is wearing a mini skirt and is on top of the guy, we just see his back. He stares like if he was watching an ethereal landscape.
DAY. EXT. GARDEN
POV of the three guys looking at the crowd.
MOVING SHOT Guys dancing, laughing, psychedelic shots of grotesque beautiful people.
Our heroes look astonished at this parade as they circle around drunk.
Suddenly Bob snaps out of his trip when a 16-year-old blonde girl asks him something. Her two friends whisper between them pointing at the boys. Skirts above their knees, perfect and slim bodies, blue and innocent eyes, breasts like drops of water.
Bob
What?
Girl 1
Do you know what time is it?
Trevor
Yeah it’s 9:15
Girl 1
Did I ask you?
Trevor
Well…No
Girl 1
What’s your name?
Bob
Bob
Girl 1
Would you mind joining me for a drink?
Bob
Mmm sure (They head for the bar)
Carlos
(Hitting Trevor) What the fuck was that?
Trevor
Je ne c’est pas
Girl 2
(approaching) She is a weird girl
Girl 3
She is my sister
Trevor
Really?
Girl 2
Yeah, my name is Kelly
Trevor
Trevor, this is my friend Carlos
Girl 3
Cynthia
Carlos
Please to meet you girls. A drink?
Bob comes back blushing with a drink and the third girl.
Bob
She is Jennifer
Jennifer
Hi boys
Kelly
Carlos, Where are those drinks?
Trevor
Coming
(Grabs Carlos to get the drinks and tells him excited)
These girls are gorgeous! We have to get them out of
here, there is a lot of competition.
Trevor shows Carlos a condom. CU at the condom that says blind date.
Carlos
Yeah. I need a drink
Cynthia
These parties are weird
Jennifer
(talking incessantly to Bob)
…And my friend was like… Can you believe this guy…?
He doesn’t like hip-hop and I’m like… really? Dump him
I told her and she was like …Yeah and he wants to have sex
And I am like ugh with a guy that doesn’t like hip-hop?
She is like…exactly and I told him I don’t think so
Do you like Hip hop Bob?
Bob
(looking at her hypnotized) mmm…Yeah…I love it
Kelly
So what do you do for fun?
Carlos
What do you mean?
Cynthia
Drugs? Movies? Games? Sports?
Trevor
A little bit of everything
Cynthia
Oh I see, tough guys eh? (laughing)
Trevor
A smoke?
Cynthia
Sure
Kelly
Let’s finish our drinks and get out of here
Jennifer, lets go.
Jennifer
(being interrupted) and I was like are you kidding me?
(turning to Kelly) what?
Kelly
Lets go
Jennifer
Ok, do you guys have a car?
Trevor
Waiting for you outside
Bob
(Whispering to Trevor) You shouldn’t drive, you are drunk
Trevor
(low voice) Get off my back moron.
Carlos
Lets hit the road
Jennifer
Yes ok, let me grab some beers, Kelly help me
Kelly
Ok bitch
Trevor
Yeah I’ll get some too
The stranger is looking casually with a light smile.
DAY- INT. TREVOR’S CAR
Trevor drives smoking a cigarette with a satisfied face and a smile. Cynthia lights up a joint passing it around the girls, the boys decline doubtfully. Everybody laughs listening to a Green Day song: Basket Case.
Trevor
Did I tell you the joke that my brother and his friends played on this guy?
Bob
Three times man.
Trevor
It was his bachelor party right? So they got pissed drunk, so he passed
Out on the couch, so these guys put some of the white of the egg on his ass
Even on the pants. So the next morning the guy asked what was that gross
Thing on his ass, and they told him that he was very drunk and asked them
To fuck him. That he didn’t want to get married a virgin guy.
So they told him that one of them was so drunk that he fucked him.
Jennifer
He believed that?
Trevor
Oh yeah. He was very depressed for days until they told him the truth
He never spoke to them again.
Jennifer
Shit happens.
DUSK EXT. BEAUTIFUL LANSCAPE ON THE BEACH
They stop on the beach. There is a gorgeous sunset. The girls take their couples for a walk.
DUSK EXT. BEACH
Jennifer kiss a frighten, shaky Bob. Is his first kiss, she seems experienced. Bob tries to mumble something, but Jennifer keeps French kissing him.
DUSK EXT. DIFFERENT PART OF THE BEACH
Trevor and Kelly are kissing passionately. He caresses her behind with an ecstasy in his face. She stops his hands gently. He wants to eat her.
DUSK EXT. DIFFERENT PART OF THE BEACH
Carlos and Cynthia climb a little cliff, she laughs and he sits on a rock.
Cynthia
So big guy, do you think I am pretty?
Carlos
Definitely
They kiss passionately with the sunset on their backs.
DUSK BEACH
The girls are running around in the sand having a ball. The boys follow close laughing loud.
Kelly
Lets go party at a motel room
The boys can’t hide their excitement and fear. They start walking towards the car.
Carlos
Trevor, I have a confession to make
Trevor
Not now
Carlos
I am a virgin
Trevor
So?
Me too.
Bob
Shit
NIGHT EXT. HIGHWAY
The car follows the highway. Fat Boy Slim praise you is playing.
NIGHT INT. TREVOR’S CAR
The girls are dancing excited, the boys look nervous but extremely happy. Jennifer pulls out a bottle of Jack Daniels.
Jennifer
Look what I got!
Trevor
Where the fuck…?
Bob
OH my god! I am going to be in trouble, I’m supposed to be at home by 11.
Carlos
Shut up
Trevor
Yahoo!
Everybody looks drunk screaming following the music.
NIGHT INT. RECEPTION MOTEL
Cynthia is paying the room with her credit card. Action is fast as in a documentary. We follow them outside with the keys in Cynthia’s hand. The guys can’t believe this is happening. We keep following Cynthia who opens the room’s door. Everybody keeps drinking and hugging. They dance and spin around the room.
Jennifer
This is great. Bob I love you (hanging him the bottle, hugging him laughing)
Trevor
Don’t drink it all pal.
The action continues as in a documentary. They are dancing passing the bottle around. The boys are touching the girls innocently but lustfully. Suddenly Jennifer takes out a bottle of pills.
Jennifer
Here big boy. Take one (to Bob)
Carlos
What’s that?
Kelly
It will make you feel better
Cynthia
Is a love drug, increases your sexual power.
Trevor
I’ll take one, but you are going to have to take two baby (To Kelly)
Kelly
Don’t worry sweetheart, I will. But boys first
The three guys take the pill and almost immediately start feeling dizzy. Everything seems slow and cold. POV of Bob: We see everything double and blurry. We hear the laughter echoing like if we were inside of their heads.
Carlos
Holy Shit! (with echo effect)
Bob
What is this? (echo effect)
Trevor
I am not feeling too well (echo effect)
Trevor tries to get the condom out of his pocket. We follow the condom falling to the floor. The guys stumble to the beds. Bob crumbles to the floor with the chair.
FADE OUT
DAY INT. HOTEL ROOM
We hear traffic outside. Everything is dark black. We hear Trevor waking up breathing heavily.
Trevor
Carlos? (slurring speech) Carlos? (screaming) Carlos
FADE IN
Carlos and Trevor are lying on the bed with bandages in their faces. They start removing them desperately but in a clumsy way.
Carlos (screaming desperate)
What is happening?
Trevor (crying)
Oh my God I can’t see!
What have they done to me?
Carlos (screaming in pain)
My eyes! My eyes! They are gone
A little drop of blood falls from Carlos face who is sobbing agitated. CU to the condom in the floor, we slowly move to see Bob lying on the floor with his eyes open but lifeless. He OD. The screaming is louder and keeps going on and on.
FADE OUT
OSWALDO PEREZ CABRERA
DAY- EXT. HIGHWAY
Three teenagers driving in an old car laughing and singing. An Offspring song (Bad habit) is playing on the radio. The three teenagers are following the beat of the song with their hands and feet.
TITLE TREVOR
Freeze frame on Trevor’s laughing; he is driving (blonde, blue eyes, handsome, skinny).
TITLE CARLOS
Freeze frame on Carlos laughing, he is the co-pilot. (dark hair, dark eyes, braces, attractive)
TITLE BOB
Freeze frame on Bob’s face, his eyes are closed on the back seat (brown hair, glasses, freckles, nerd type).
DAY- EXT. FANCY NEIGHBOURHOOD
Carlos
Where is the party?
Trevor
Chill out. It must be around here
Close up to a condom on the compartment saying “blind date”.
Bob
There! There it is (Pointing at the crowd)
Trevor
Wow! Check out those chicks!
Bob
I don’t know…It’s seems too fancy. Maybe we should forget about this
Carlos
Whatever, with that attitude you will be a virgin all your life.
Trevor
(Shouting to a girl) Hey Baby!
They park near the house; they are driving an old Chevy. The house is big; we can see a large, nice garden through the black fence.
Trevor grabs the condom.
The three kids show their invitation at the door. They entered with amazed faces; they cannot believe their eyes. It seems is the first time they see all this opulence.
In the middle of the garden there is a pool. A sophisticated stereo spits cheesy music like the Backstreet Boys and Britaney Spears.
The entire crowd is beautiful, young and wealthy. Our heroes are a normal middle class type trying to fit in a different status.
EXT. GARDEN. DAY
Bob
So who invited you to this party anyway?
Trevor
Remember Tony, my oldest sister’s ex-boyfriend, the one with a monkey face?
Well let’s say that he owed me a favor, so you know he is a DJ right?
So he knows this guy who is the boyfriend of the girl who knows the guy
who owns the house. You have to be connected guys.
Carlos
Oh for fuck’s sake
Trevor
Hey! Let’s go to the bar. Free drinks my friends.
Bob
I don’t know. I took some vitamins in the morning.
Trevor
Come on don’t be a wimp. Carlos?
Carlos
Yeah sure, why not, let’s get drunk.
Trevor
You’ll see I bet they have all kinds of drinks.
They head towards the bartender who is a girl is her mid twenties wearing a provocative outfit; she is gorgeous, blonde with a nice body. She doesn’t bother to ask for ID.
Trevor
(as they walk) Booze, girls, music, this is paradise
Bob
Remember that you have to drive Trevor
Trevor
Oh just shut up and drink, this is once in a lifetime.
(to the bartender) Hi sweetheart, three beers and three shots of your finest tequila for starters please
Carlos
Cheers
Trevor
Cheers
Bob
Cheers
They drink making exclamations and cheering everytime a nice looking girl walks by.
Stranger
Hey boys. Having fun?
The stranger is about 28 years old, fancy suit, he looks kinda drunk but with a lot of mileage on him.
Trevor
Yeah. Good party.
Stranger
This parties suck man. I’ll tell you. Lots of drugs around.
See that couple (pointing at a couple that is snorting cocaine on a table)
Cocaine. See that group. They are on acid. They don’t know how to use drugs.
Have you ever done drugs boys?
Carlos denies with his head.
Bob
No (looks uncomfortable)
Stranger
Drugs are meant to expand your conscience, your horizon, your mind.
Not just to get you stupid like these yuppies. You know what you should do?
Get yourselves some nice, decent girls and get the hell out of here
Carlos
Have you ever done drugs mister…
Stranger
Jones, Mr. Jones. Call me Jay. Yes I have done some, but only as an experiment.
For example, once I had this beautiful girl you know, big tits, nice ass, we were on hallucinogens.
What a trip! You know, touching her softly, undressing her, penetrating her with your
sensations awaken paradise on Earth boys. Paradise on Earth.
Carlos
What happened to her?
Stranger
She left me for some coke addict. A banker. But that is not important, now the
Important issue here is to know how to enjoy yourselves while you are still young.
Trevor
Look at that guy’s girl, man. She is gorgeous.
Stranger
His father is a policeman. Narcotics division. He is just being a rebel: Drugs and bimbos.
Anyway boys, have fun
Carlos
And what exactly are you doing here if you don’t like the crowd?
Stranger
(as he walks away) I provide the drugs to these people
Bob
What a strange, weird and mysterious guy
Carlos
Aren’t those synonyms?
Trevor
Let’s get another drink. Vodka Gentlemen?
Carlos
Yeah. What the fuck
CUT TO:
DAY. INT. HOUSE
Carlos and Bob are waiting for the washroom. Carlos really needs to go. There is a great body girl ahead of them.
Carlos
I am going to look for another John
Bob
Ok man.
Finally the girl goes into the washroom, she is so high that leaves the door ajar, so now from Bob’s POV we see the girl putting her jeans down slowly showing her naked from the waist down. Bob blushes and slowly starts to masturbate rubbing himself. The camera jumps from Bob’s face of pleasure, to his hands rubbing his penis and now to Bob’s POV watching the girl peeing. She finishes, puts her pants back on and stares at herself in the mirror, and goes out of the washroom, she sees Bob and smiles at him, he comes closing his eyes. A couple is waiting, looking at Bob with a disgusted face.
DAY. INT. BATHROOM
Bob is cleaning himself up. He seems ashamed of himself.
CUT TO:
DAY INT. ANOTHER PART OF THE HOUSE
Carlos found another bathroom, we see him coming out of the washroom. He is looking around with curiosity, amazed by the house, when suddenly he sees a door ajar and hears some noises, he peeps and we see his POV a couple making love, the girl is on top with her breast showing, she is wearing a mini skirt and is on top of the guy, we just see his back. He stares like if he was watching an ethereal landscape.
DAY. EXT. GARDEN
POV of the three guys looking at the crowd.
MOVING SHOT Guys dancing, laughing, psychedelic shots of grotesque beautiful people.
Our heroes look astonished at this parade as they circle around drunk.
Suddenly Bob snaps out of his trip when a 16-year-old blonde girl asks him something. Her two friends whisper between them pointing at the boys. Skirts above their knees, perfect and slim bodies, blue and innocent eyes, breasts like drops of water.
Bob
What?
Girl 1
Do you know what time is it?
Trevor
Yeah it’s 9:15
Girl 1
Did I ask you?
Trevor
Well…No
Girl 1
What’s your name?
Bob
Bob
Girl 1
Would you mind joining me for a drink?
Bob
Mmm sure (They head for the bar)
Carlos
(Hitting Trevor) What the fuck was that?
Trevor
Je ne c’est pas
Girl 2
(approaching) She is a weird girl
Girl 3
She is my sister
Trevor
Really?
Girl 2
Yeah, my name is Kelly
Trevor
Trevor, this is my friend Carlos
Girl 3
Cynthia
Carlos
Please to meet you girls. A drink?
Bob comes back blushing with a drink and the third girl.
Bob
She is Jennifer
Jennifer
Hi boys
Kelly
Carlos, Where are those drinks?
Trevor
Coming
(Grabs Carlos to get the drinks and tells him excited)
These girls are gorgeous! We have to get them out of
here, there is a lot of competition.
Trevor shows Carlos a condom. CU at the condom that says blind date.
Carlos
Yeah. I need a drink
Cynthia
These parties are weird
Jennifer
(talking incessantly to Bob)
…And my friend was like… Can you believe this guy…?
He doesn’t like hip-hop and I’m like… really? Dump him
I told her and she was like …Yeah and he wants to have sex
And I am like ugh with a guy that doesn’t like hip-hop?
She is like…exactly and I told him I don’t think so
Do you like Hip hop Bob?
Bob
(looking at her hypnotized) mmm…Yeah…I love it
Kelly
So what do you do for fun?
Carlos
What do you mean?
Cynthia
Drugs? Movies? Games? Sports?
Trevor
A little bit of everything
Cynthia
Oh I see, tough guys eh? (laughing)
Trevor
A smoke?
Cynthia
Sure
Kelly
Let’s finish our drinks and get out of here
Jennifer, lets go.
Jennifer
(being interrupted) and I was like are you kidding me?
(turning to Kelly) what?
Kelly
Lets go
Jennifer
Ok, do you guys have a car?
Trevor
Waiting for you outside
Bob
(Whispering to Trevor) You shouldn’t drive, you are drunk
Trevor
(low voice) Get off my back moron.
Carlos
Lets hit the road
Jennifer
Yes ok, let me grab some beers, Kelly help me
Kelly
Ok bitch
Trevor
Yeah I’ll get some too
The stranger is looking casually with a light smile.
DAY- INT. TREVOR’S CAR
Trevor drives smoking a cigarette with a satisfied face and a smile. Cynthia lights up a joint passing it around the girls, the boys decline doubtfully. Everybody laughs listening to a Green Day song: Basket Case.
Trevor
Did I tell you the joke that my brother and his friends played on this guy?
Bob
Three times man.
Trevor
It was his bachelor party right? So they got pissed drunk, so he passed
Out on the couch, so these guys put some of the white of the egg on his ass
Even on the pants. So the next morning the guy asked what was that gross
Thing on his ass, and they told him that he was very drunk and asked them
To fuck him. That he didn’t want to get married a virgin guy.
So they told him that one of them was so drunk that he fucked him.
Jennifer
He believed that?
Trevor
Oh yeah. He was very depressed for days until they told him the truth
He never spoke to them again.
Jennifer
Shit happens.
DUSK EXT. BEAUTIFUL LANSCAPE ON THE BEACH
They stop on the beach. There is a gorgeous sunset. The girls take their couples for a walk.
DUSK EXT. BEACH
Jennifer kiss a frighten, shaky Bob. Is his first kiss, she seems experienced. Bob tries to mumble something, but Jennifer keeps French kissing him.
DUSK EXT. DIFFERENT PART OF THE BEACH
Trevor and Kelly are kissing passionately. He caresses her behind with an ecstasy in his face. She stops his hands gently. He wants to eat her.
DUSK EXT. DIFFERENT PART OF THE BEACH
Carlos and Cynthia climb a little cliff, she laughs and he sits on a rock.
Cynthia
So big guy, do you think I am pretty?
Carlos
Definitely
They kiss passionately with the sunset on their backs.
DUSK BEACH
The girls are running around in the sand having a ball. The boys follow close laughing loud.
Kelly
Lets go party at a motel room
The boys can’t hide their excitement and fear. They start walking towards the car.
Carlos
Trevor, I have a confession to make
Trevor
Not now
Carlos
I am a virgin
Trevor
So?
Me too.
Bob
Shit
NIGHT EXT. HIGHWAY
The car follows the highway. Fat Boy Slim praise you is playing.
NIGHT INT. TREVOR’S CAR
The girls are dancing excited, the boys look nervous but extremely happy. Jennifer pulls out a bottle of Jack Daniels.
Jennifer
Look what I got!
Trevor
Where the fuck…?
Bob
OH my god! I am going to be in trouble, I’m supposed to be at home by 11.
Carlos
Shut up
Trevor
Yahoo!
Everybody looks drunk screaming following the music.
NIGHT INT. RECEPTION MOTEL
Cynthia is paying the room with her credit card. Action is fast as in a documentary. We follow them outside with the keys in Cynthia’s hand. The guys can’t believe this is happening. We keep following Cynthia who opens the room’s door. Everybody keeps drinking and hugging. They dance and spin around the room.
Jennifer
This is great. Bob I love you (hanging him the bottle, hugging him laughing)
Trevor
Don’t drink it all pal.
The action continues as in a documentary. They are dancing passing the bottle around. The boys are touching the girls innocently but lustfully. Suddenly Jennifer takes out a bottle of pills.
Jennifer
Here big boy. Take one (to Bob)
Carlos
What’s that?
Kelly
It will make you feel better
Cynthia
Is a love drug, increases your sexual power.
Trevor
I’ll take one, but you are going to have to take two baby (To Kelly)
Kelly
Don’t worry sweetheart, I will. But boys first
The three guys take the pill and almost immediately start feeling dizzy. Everything seems slow and cold. POV of Bob: We see everything double and blurry. We hear the laughter echoing like if we were inside of their heads.
Carlos
Holy Shit! (with echo effect)
Bob
What is this? (echo effect)
Trevor
I am not feeling too well (echo effect)
Trevor tries to get the condom out of his pocket. We follow the condom falling to the floor. The guys stumble to the beds. Bob crumbles to the floor with the chair.
FADE OUT
DAY INT. HOTEL ROOM
We hear traffic outside. Everything is dark black. We hear Trevor waking up breathing heavily.
Trevor
Carlos? (slurring speech) Carlos? (screaming) Carlos
FADE IN
Carlos and Trevor are lying on the bed with bandages in their faces. They start removing them desperately but in a clumsy way.
Carlos (screaming desperate)
What is happening?
Trevor (crying)
Oh my God I can’t see!
What have they done to me?
Carlos (screaming in pain)
My eyes! My eyes! They are gone
A little drop of blood falls from Carlos face who is sobbing agitated. CU to the condom in the floor, we slowly move to see Bob lying on the floor with his eyes open but lifeless. He OD. The screaming is louder and keeps going on and on.
FADE OUT
OSWALDO PEREZ CABRERA
The coming
The coming
Exploration of Fear
She was sitting on the rusty chair in the middle of the kitchen waiting for the fatidic ending. The night had a cold death color; cold like the coffee that was reflecting her pale face. Her body was shaking and the anguish was trying to escape through each one of her pores. She could hear a distant thunder. It was like a presage of the tragedy ready to happen. The chilly rain was approaching like the prophecy, inevitable.
The father was watching her from a corner of the kitchen, motionless on his old wheelchair. He seemed worried knowing that the calamity was imminent. He could hear the sound of her heart pounding like an untamable drum, he saw her lost look crowned by her disarranged hair pose on his face, and the look was pleading for help in silence. A thousand words could have been guessed if that frown of desperation wasn’t silent. The father too was a victim of the anguished times that were ruling the house since Elliot left. The father had an emaciated face, full of highways built by the merciless time. The same time that now was running out making eternity a little bit shorter.
He woke up early in the misty morning knowing this would be the day to venture upon his mission between the gust of spring and the lashes of the cold.
Elliot left the city at dusk one day previous to the fatidic ending. He saw all the lights spread across the dark horizon. The endless parade of lights started to fade away when he remembered his guilty fate. Then the tears washed away the lights as he felt the cold window in his forehead. The sadness was crushing him but the anger was the savior, the only thing that kept him alive. The feeling of revenge or at least of making sure that the uncertainty of the nightmare was over was his daily nourishment. The darkness of the road gave him an unconscious shelter; he felt that he could hide in the blackness of the mountain that he was crossing; a black forest that climbed the mountain eating the soil and sheltering all kinds of nocturnal animals. He wanted to get lost with them in order to avoid the hideous destiny that awaited him.
Her mother was praying in the bathroom, doors locked and trembling without control. A picture on the pallid blue wall, a picture of a devilish creature surrounded by dark shadows made with dark colours reminded her of the prophecy and made her heart shudder, as if some one had put up the tiny picture to torture the minds of the inhabitants of the beaten house built in the middle of the lugubrious mountains of an unknown region. She prayed with a wooden Jesus chained to her hands, her tears were wetting the tiles, sliding through the cracks of the aligned floor. The mixture of cries and prayers escaped through the small broken window to reach the dark forest of the remote territory; as a hint for the follower. They were like caged animals waiting for a precise hunter.
On the mountainous serpentine road the bus struggled to reach the top parts of the peaks. Elliot was submerged in his thoughts. Why can’t a man live happily ever after with the love of his life? Why does there always have to be something dreadful in the way of his happiness? Why him? Why did he have to pay that price? His eyes were injected with a strange combination of rage and delusion, anger and disappointment. The owls were having their feast with small rodents; the crows were giving a concert with distorted croaks; the skunks were perfuming the atmosphere with their warnings; and the hollow trees making the wind whistle. Everything was in perfect harmony with the humid weather that breaks and enters into your bones. He had a bad feeling and a shiver when he thought of the depths of the dark forest. The moon full at its maximum capacity was peeping through the dense clouds barely lighting anything. He knew he had the worst task of all the human beings.
The cold wet leaves under his naked feet, he felt like he was in a dream approaching rapidly to his goal, feeling the branches caressing his face as he ran through the perilous paths of the enchanted hills.
She knew it was useless to escape, it would only prolong her agony, an agony that wasn’t painful physically but it was mentally draining. The smell of her father’s tobacco made her vomit near the stove, crying while leaning on a drossy piece of furniture. She was close to having a nervous breakdown but stood still like an Indian warrior looking at her wrinkled father with a stare - like asking for forgiveness and asking for strength. A wolf howled in the haunted woods warning their fellow pack members that something gruesome was about to happen. The feeling in the air made all the inhabitants of the region distrustful of every square meter of their surroundings. Everybody in the house startled and the cold sweat provided an unnecessary punishment for them. The cold coffee was disturbed by a lonely tear that provoked a brown wave that distorted the reflection of a frightened face.
He finally arrived to the smallest bus station that consisted in a dumpy coffee shop of 2 tables and an old ticket dispenser. He had dreamed that he was rushing through the woods falling into the traps of the evil muddy puddles. He woke up just in time and was the only passenger to disembark on that remote location; he knew he still had to walk a fair amount of distance before he could reach the house. He also knew it was going to be a boisterous and painful trek where his worst enemy would be the remorse rather the dreadful climate conditions and the uneasy inhabitants of the area. Even the moon was still hidden behind the theatrical scenery provided by the stormy clouds. He felt the steel in his pocket to reassure himself that everything was going to be alright even though he knew he was marked for eternity for his crime. A thunder on his back made him go further beyond his capacity with the adrenaline as a copilot. He left Fear at the lonely station.
He saw the rustic house barely light by some candles. He could see his breath rising up in the air in the form of a cloud of agitation as he felt a familiar rush in his exalted body.
The mother saw death in the form of a shadow; she panicked in a fetal position in the corner of the bath. Then it was calm. Then the broken window was destroyed and her crying got louder. In the kitchen the faces sobbed with an indescribable frown, unable to see each other anymore. It was death row between pans and perishable food. The mother was terrified when she had the courage to open her eyes and see the man that was about to exterminate her. She received a couple of blows before she was strangled. She was losing consciousness when she felt something penetrating her stomach and the deep pain told her that she was close to be relief of her suffering. The wooden Jesus was hanging, crying for a lost soul. The door slammed wide open, punishing the wall. The father just looked to his insensitive legs waiting for the final blow; he muttered a very brief prayer and death fell upon him in the form of a blade that silted his throat. The woman screamed Elliot with all her lungs and collapsed on the kitchen floor as a huge shadow cast upon her the deadly spell.
He enjoyed the smell of blood and the fresh taste of human meat. He drank some of the vital liquid like honoring his victims like any respectful hunter.
When he arrived to the house only a tenuous light from a dying candle lit the interior. He came with his weapon ready for the fight. But it was too late. The horrid spectacle that his eyes saw is beyond any description. His mind was pierced forever, tattooed with a macabre memory. He saw some creatures picking on his lover’s open body. With blood in their mouths and pieces of intestines hanging out they fled the scene when Elliot screamed. He knew it was going to happen. He thought he could fool pure evil. He had exchanged the knowledge of black magic for something precious. He thought it could be his miserable soul. So he learned the craft of witches and became powerful. But he never contemplated falling in love with a gypsy. He never contemplated that she was going to become his most precious possession that day that they made love under the stars. He tried to hide away when he realized the danger she was in and asked her for forgiveness, and then he tried to fool the devil. He explained everything to her and love forgave but not the devil that appeared one day in a cauldron of flames merciless and impossible to cheat. Elliot rushed to try to stop the massacre and the damnation of his lover’s soul only to find her open body and two corpses of her beloved parents that were not more than a couple of dismembered peasants.
The beast with his deformed face and humongous body wandered in the black forest waiting for the next victim from his master, still tasting the iron of the blood in his mouth. Waiting for the next human that hungry for the black knowledge is capable of dealing with Beelzebub who punishes taking forever the love out of their lives and then they have to roam knowing that they have condemned the soul of the love one to the most rotten creature and his acolytes.
OSWALDO PEREZ CABRERA
Exploration of Fear
She was sitting on the rusty chair in the middle of the kitchen waiting for the fatidic ending. The night had a cold death color; cold like the coffee that was reflecting her pale face. Her body was shaking and the anguish was trying to escape through each one of her pores. She could hear a distant thunder. It was like a presage of the tragedy ready to happen. The chilly rain was approaching like the prophecy, inevitable.
The father was watching her from a corner of the kitchen, motionless on his old wheelchair. He seemed worried knowing that the calamity was imminent. He could hear the sound of her heart pounding like an untamable drum, he saw her lost look crowned by her disarranged hair pose on his face, and the look was pleading for help in silence. A thousand words could have been guessed if that frown of desperation wasn’t silent. The father too was a victim of the anguished times that were ruling the house since Elliot left. The father had an emaciated face, full of highways built by the merciless time. The same time that now was running out making eternity a little bit shorter.
He woke up early in the misty morning knowing this would be the day to venture upon his mission between the gust of spring and the lashes of the cold.
Elliot left the city at dusk one day previous to the fatidic ending. He saw all the lights spread across the dark horizon. The endless parade of lights started to fade away when he remembered his guilty fate. Then the tears washed away the lights as he felt the cold window in his forehead. The sadness was crushing him but the anger was the savior, the only thing that kept him alive. The feeling of revenge or at least of making sure that the uncertainty of the nightmare was over was his daily nourishment. The darkness of the road gave him an unconscious shelter; he felt that he could hide in the blackness of the mountain that he was crossing; a black forest that climbed the mountain eating the soil and sheltering all kinds of nocturnal animals. He wanted to get lost with them in order to avoid the hideous destiny that awaited him.
Her mother was praying in the bathroom, doors locked and trembling without control. A picture on the pallid blue wall, a picture of a devilish creature surrounded by dark shadows made with dark colours reminded her of the prophecy and made her heart shudder, as if some one had put up the tiny picture to torture the minds of the inhabitants of the beaten house built in the middle of the lugubrious mountains of an unknown region. She prayed with a wooden Jesus chained to her hands, her tears were wetting the tiles, sliding through the cracks of the aligned floor. The mixture of cries and prayers escaped through the small broken window to reach the dark forest of the remote territory; as a hint for the follower. They were like caged animals waiting for a precise hunter.
On the mountainous serpentine road the bus struggled to reach the top parts of the peaks. Elliot was submerged in his thoughts. Why can’t a man live happily ever after with the love of his life? Why does there always have to be something dreadful in the way of his happiness? Why him? Why did he have to pay that price? His eyes were injected with a strange combination of rage and delusion, anger and disappointment. The owls were having their feast with small rodents; the crows were giving a concert with distorted croaks; the skunks were perfuming the atmosphere with their warnings; and the hollow trees making the wind whistle. Everything was in perfect harmony with the humid weather that breaks and enters into your bones. He had a bad feeling and a shiver when he thought of the depths of the dark forest. The moon full at its maximum capacity was peeping through the dense clouds barely lighting anything. He knew he had the worst task of all the human beings.
The cold wet leaves under his naked feet, he felt like he was in a dream approaching rapidly to his goal, feeling the branches caressing his face as he ran through the perilous paths of the enchanted hills.
She knew it was useless to escape, it would only prolong her agony, an agony that wasn’t painful physically but it was mentally draining. The smell of her father’s tobacco made her vomit near the stove, crying while leaning on a drossy piece of furniture. She was close to having a nervous breakdown but stood still like an Indian warrior looking at her wrinkled father with a stare - like asking for forgiveness and asking for strength. A wolf howled in the haunted woods warning their fellow pack members that something gruesome was about to happen. The feeling in the air made all the inhabitants of the region distrustful of every square meter of their surroundings. Everybody in the house startled and the cold sweat provided an unnecessary punishment for them. The cold coffee was disturbed by a lonely tear that provoked a brown wave that distorted the reflection of a frightened face.
He finally arrived to the smallest bus station that consisted in a dumpy coffee shop of 2 tables and an old ticket dispenser. He had dreamed that he was rushing through the woods falling into the traps of the evil muddy puddles. He woke up just in time and was the only passenger to disembark on that remote location; he knew he still had to walk a fair amount of distance before he could reach the house. He also knew it was going to be a boisterous and painful trek where his worst enemy would be the remorse rather the dreadful climate conditions and the uneasy inhabitants of the area. Even the moon was still hidden behind the theatrical scenery provided by the stormy clouds. He felt the steel in his pocket to reassure himself that everything was going to be alright even though he knew he was marked for eternity for his crime. A thunder on his back made him go further beyond his capacity with the adrenaline as a copilot. He left Fear at the lonely station.
He saw the rustic house barely light by some candles. He could see his breath rising up in the air in the form of a cloud of agitation as he felt a familiar rush in his exalted body.
The mother saw death in the form of a shadow; she panicked in a fetal position in the corner of the bath. Then it was calm. Then the broken window was destroyed and her crying got louder. In the kitchen the faces sobbed with an indescribable frown, unable to see each other anymore. It was death row between pans and perishable food. The mother was terrified when she had the courage to open her eyes and see the man that was about to exterminate her. She received a couple of blows before she was strangled. She was losing consciousness when she felt something penetrating her stomach and the deep pain told her that she was close to be relief of her suffering. The wooden Jesus was hanging, crying for a lost soul. The door slammed wide open, punishing the wall. The father just looked to his insensitive legs waiting for the final blow; he muttered a very brief prayer and death fell upon him in the form of a blade that silted his throat. The woman screamed Elliot with all her lungs and collapsed on the kitchen floor as a huge shadow cast upon her the deadly spell.
He enjoyed the smell of blood and the fresh taste of human meat. He drank some of the vital liquid like honoring his victims like any respectful hunter.
When he arrived to the house only a tenuous light from a dying candle lit the interior. He came with his weapon ready for the fight. But it was too late. The horrid spectacle that his eyes saw is beyond any description. His mind was pierced forever, tattooed with a macabre memory. He saw some creatures picking on his lover’s open body. With blood in their mouths and pieces of intestines hanging out they fled the scene when Elliot screamed. He knew it was going to happen. He thought he could fool pure evil. He had exchanged the knowledge of black magic for something precious. He thought it could be his miserable soul. So he learned the craft of witches and became powerful. But he never contemplated falling in love with a gypsy. He never contemplated that she was going to become his most precious possession that day that they made love under the stars. He tried to hide away when he realized the danger she was in and asked her for forgiveness, and then he tried to fool the devil. He explained everything to her and love forgave but not the devil that appeared one day in a cauldron of flames merciless and impossible to cheat. Elliot rushed to try to stop the massacre and the damnation of his lover’s soul only to find her open body and two corpses of her beloved parents that were not more than a couple of dismembered peasants.
The beast with his deformed face and humongous body wandered in the black forest waiting for the next victim from his master, still tasting the iron of the blood in his mouth. Waiting for the next human that hungry for the black knowledge is capable of dealing with Beelzebub who punishes taking forever the love out of their lives and then they have to roam knowing that they have condemned the soul of the love one to the most rotten creature and his acolytes.
OSWALDO PEREZ CABRERA
The NuN
The NuN
Oswaldo Perez Cabrera
The chapter began with the idea of Moctezuma and Bora of helping the human beings of Chiapas by bringing their best intentions.
After a winding and uncomfortable trip they arrived at last on the edge of civilization. There, where the government say it is impossible to reach or that they never heard of a community living in such a place. However, the little town is flooded with Coca Cola products and bizarre ways of manipulation that make unnecessary the participation of the three Mexican powers: executive, legislative and judicial. The TV.
There, they live in misery but happy dreaming and escaping with cheesy characters from soap operas or the soccer idol of the moment. There, where anytime a Marcos comes and with a speech he has a disposable army. There, where it exists even a greater danger, a hazard product of a mischievously way of manipulation of hundreds of years old: Religion.
The town was very small, poorly asphalted and hot as hell. The mission of the students was to help. Organizing the aid, teaching how to read and write, educating in sexual and legal matters, etc. This would be a very long story if I describe all the activities that can be done in a rural, poor community, YOU HAVE TO BE THERE.
Bora and Moctezuma began to work joining forces with other students of the National University between mud, misfortune, sickness transmitted by mosquitoes (repulsive animal created by God, Arthropod vampire, dipteran air force, aerodynamic culcid and many times mortal jaundice) hunger, stink, etc. All the calamities common in these societies that we ignore or pretend they don't exist. All the altruist labors done are irrelevant to this story whose goal is to disprove once again and a little more those church ministers who make money taking advantage of the people's grief, no matter what religion or cult we are talking about.
By those streets lived a strong nun from several years ago that the population trusted. She made all the typical activities of her profession and kept a close relation with the municipal president. Some even thought she was miraculous and gave her money constantly; the truth was she had city vices.
That fatidic afternoon the rain appeared commonplace that announces tragedy. Bora and Moctezuma were digesting their dinner. "The engineer" a regular student, shameful victim and whose name nobody knows or wants to remember for obvious reasons that will be clarified later, felt an upset stomach that announced the necessity to evacuate processed food. He headed to the lavatory, of course public or communal, with urine odors mixed with wet soil. He put his sticky pants down and began his maneuver when he heard someone else coming into the fecal recint. He could hear the sprinkle hitting the water. A comment was made about "The fucking heat" to him. It was a clearly masculine voice. He nodded. He wiped with relief believing that his interlocutor was gone. Suddenly, someone opened the wasted wood door abruptly and he saw in front of him a figure of six feet, maleficent eyes, and voluptuous smile to the max. Then he realized he was followed. He was trapped. The nun lifted her habit showing her hard penis. Yes my reader friend, it was the nun!! The homosexual cleric, the server of god claimed young flesh, the chameleonic ecclesiastic wanted student pleasure. "The engineer" tried to escape but the nun stopped him almost without any effort punching him on the nose. The student fell over his disposables. He was grabbed by the stomach and felt the warm sexual organ of the "priest" near his ass. He screamed as hard as he could, while he was manipulated easily. He wasn't that strong. The monk then penetrated him. He howled in pain, a smell of whiskey and shit in his nose, he wanted to die but only managed to faint while he was possessed like an inflatable doll by the representant of the church. Fortunately for the potential next victims, not the engineer who was loosing his anal cherry, Bora and Moctezuma were passing by and heard his screams. They broke into the washroom only to witness a grotesque spectacle. Bora tried to separate the intercourse but received a strong punch. Moctezuma tried the same but bounced. Bora knew that another try would be useless, so he went out running and shouting: "the nun is a macho" "The nun is a macho" several times across the streets. Meanwhile Moctezuma was screaming for help grabbing the macho nun legs. The efforts of these brave students paid well. Some of the locals succeeded and took down the aberrant nun discovering his manhood and the lie he had put for many years.
What happened next was made discreetly. After a severe beating the mad crowd conducted the rapist to a lonely paramo where the raging horde applied the justice they thought necessary and fair.
The charges: Deceit and Rape (s)?\Now the macho Nun rests at the foot of a tree. From "the engineer" nobody heard another thing and nobody knows where he is.
Oswaldo Perez Cabrera
The chapter began with the idea of Moctezuma and Bora of helping the human beings of Chiapas by bringing their best intentions.
After a winding and uncomfortable trip they arrived at last on the edge of civilization. There, where the government say it is impossible to reach or that they never heard of a community living in such a place. However, the little town is flooded with Coca Cola products and bizarre ways of manipulation that make unnecessary the participation of the three Mexican powers: executive, legislative and judicial. The TV.
There, they live in misery but happy dreaming and escaping with cheesy characters from soap operas or the soccer idol of the moment. There, where anytime a Marcos comes and with a speech he has a disposable army. There, where it exists even a greater danger, a hazard product of a mischievously way of manipulation of hundreds of years old: Religion.
The town was very small, poorly asphalted and hot as hell. The mission of the students was to help. Organizing the aid, teaching how to read and write, educating in sexual and legal matters, etc. This would be a very long story if I describe all the activities that can be done in a rural, poor community, YOU HAVE TO BE THERE.
Bora and Moctezuma began to work joining forces with other students of the National University between mud, misfortune, sickness transmitted by mosquitoes (repulsive animal created by God, Arthropod vampire, dipteran air force, aerodynamic culcid and many times mortal jaundice) hunger, stink, etc. All the calamities common in these societies that we ignore or pretend they don't exist. All the altruist labors done are irrelevant to this story whose goal is to disprove once again and a little more those church ministers who make money taking advantage of the people's grief, no matter what religion or cult we are talking about.
By those streets lived a strong nun from several years ago that the population trusted. She made all the typical activities of her profession and kept a close relation with the municipal president. Some even thought she was miraculous and gave her money constantly; the truth was she had city vices.
That fatidic afternoon the rain appeared commonplace that announces tragedy. Bora and Moctezuma were digesting their dinner. "The engineer" a regular student, shameful victim and whose name nobody knows or wants to remember for obvious reasons that will be clarified later, felt an upset stomach that announced the necessity to evacuate processed food. He headed to the lavatory, of course public or communal, with urine odors mixed with wet soil. He put his sticky pants down and began his maneuver when he heard someone else coming into the fecal recint. He could hear the sprinkle hitting the water. A comment was made about "The fucking heat" to him. It was a clearly masculine voice. He nodded. He wiped with relief believing that his interlocutor was gone. Suddenly, someone opened the wasted wood door abruptly and he saw in front of him a figure of six feet, maleficent eyes, and voluptuous smile to the max. Then he realized he was followed. He was trapped. The nun lifted her habit showing her hard penis. Yes my reader friend, it was the nun!! The homosexual cleric, the server of god claimed young flesh, the chameleonic ecclesiastic wanted student pleasure. "The engineer" tried to escape but the nun stopped him almost without any effort punching him on the nose. The student fell over his disposables. He was grabbed by the stomach and felt the warm sexual organ of the "priest" near his ass. He screamed as hard as he could, while he was manipulated easily. He wasn't that strong. The monk then penetrated him. He howled in pain, a smell of whiskey and shit in his nose, he wanted to die but only managed to faint while he was possessed like an inflatable doll by the representant of the church. Fortunately for the potential next victims, not the engineer who was loosing his anal cherry, Bora and Moctezuma were passing by and heard his screams. They broke into the washroom only to witness a grotesque spectacle. Bora tried to separate the intercourse but received a strong punch. Moctezuma tried the same but bounced. Bora knew that another try would be useless, so he went out running and shouting: "the nun is a macho" "The nun is a macho" several times across the streets. Meanwhile Moctezuma was screaming for help grabbing the macho nun legs. The efforts of these brave students paid well. Some of the locals succeeded and took down the aberrant nun discovering his manhood and the lie he had put for many years.
What happened next was made discreetly. After a severe beating the mad crowd conducted the rapist to a lonely paramo where the raging horde applied the justice they thought necessary and fair.
The charges: Deceit and Rape (s)?\Now the macho Nun rests at the foot of a tree. From "the engineer" nobody heard another thing and nobody knows where he is.
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