Wednesday, March 31, 2010
To Paraphrase A Genius
I don't burn my bras - I like them. I don't hate men - I love them. I fuck them. I don't sit in a corner, afraid to break the perceived mentality that we are pleasant and meek and quiet. No. I ask for what I want, whenever I want. I wear what I want. If people want to get off over that, whatever. I don't do this for them. I do it for me. I do it for my fans. If I were an unshaven man with a cigarette and gravel voice singing about this I'd be a rock n roll star. But because I am a woman, I am objectifying myself and opposing feminism. Fuck that. Fuck it all. I love women. I love men. I am a rock and roll star and I am a woman.
Monday, March 29, 2010
re: Manifesto of Little Monsters
Billet-Doux
There is everything heroic about the way our mother monster conducts herself, not just on lens, but on screen, on stage and on life's canvas itself. The reason in her words, the creativity in her image, the hypnotizing movements of her body as it moulds the beat, the hidden tones in her voice. It all warps and combines to give us, the little monsters, a place to belong. A place that exists for as long as she procures it.
Then we, the apparent kings and queens, recognize that our crowns are but plastic - and come crashing back to reality.
For without our matriarch, there is no kingdom, and without a kingdom, we are, once more, monsters. But it is in our monstrous nature that we can, again, find ourselves.
For if you take away the music, the words, the image, the lights, you are not left with nothing, but everything. The kingdom, our safe haven, it is a part of who we are, in our attitudes, it is our hearts, and we take it with us wherever we go.
So we stand - clicking away, exchanging pheromones with complete strangers, all for just one glimpse of mother monster.
The show ends, but we do not. We pick up our plastic crowns, with the recognition that projection is what gives them worth. We wear them proudly.
When you're lonely
Don't be.
We are your little monsters.
And we will carry you with us wherever we go.
Then we, the apparent kings and queens, recognize that our crowns are but plastic - and come crashing back to reality.
For without our matriarch, there is no kingdom, and without a kingdom, we are, once more, monsters. But it is in our monstrous nature that we can, again, find ourselves.
For if you take away the music, the words, the image, the lights, you are not left with nothing, but everything. The kingdom, our safe haven, it is a part of who we are, in our attitudes, it is our hearts, and we take it with us wherever we go.
So we stand - clicking away, exchanging pheromones with complete strangers, all for just one glimpse of mother monster.
The show ends, but we do not. We pick up our plastic crowns, with the recognition that projection is what gives them worth. We wear them proudly.
When you're lonely
Don't be.
We are your little monsters.
And we will carry you with us wherever we go.
love & paws. 2010. kait kruger - monstrosity extraordinaire x
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