Monday, 29 September 2008


With the ‘Johnny’ installation, you appear to have come full moon. It is redolent of your early ‘pissoir’ exhibition.

Yes, screen. Perhaps you might inform people so. I commenced in commerce-looking-at with the recreation of a shatyanyellow pass from twentieth century. They named them ‘toilets’ at that time. I resounds strangely for us. Who would say, I will free the bilge in the toilets? It is boominlaffta to ponder that. Hownever, I journey off the lines. A full moon, you might suggest and I return that as veracity. Nonethoughless, the decay and fecalness of the age is gallopinghorsesofjoy to my organs.

And how did you create the hotbanger bags?

We first lit jonathonpiece and shaped with static gloves. I concentrated then with more erection than in previous pip-sessions. I visualized and it became existent. We hitsticked it into the makerbox and they latexed instantly.

And the filling? Some have said you have filled with your own chilcram?

No, screen. It was the pharms.

You visited them?

Yes, time in them. Disembodied bulges linked to crudey tubes, same for three hundred years. Only three left now in the entire. They furnished a galleon of jim-jam. I filled the ‘condoms’, as the then-people named them, at the station with full and frank assistance of my man-wives, before hanging in the fibre woods for packs to come review.

And would you say you’re happy with it?

I would respond, if permitted, but your pose is indiscrete and doggly.

(The lights dim. The fibre wood dissolves to a memory as recounted to the screen)

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