The Clan de Antagoniste' en Anno Domini 2008

It has been several months, I know, I know. However, I have said this before but it did happen again, that I have received word from former contributors and loyalists among you (if you are watching) about our whereabouts. Thank you. Sincerely. The fact that a dozen or so bothered to contact us and even one of you reminded me of an upcoming anniversary of the Antagonista before it become a ghost. Bravo. It meant something to moi. “Le cela etant indique`” , A lot has occured. I intend to update out of gratitude here, shortly. After which, I will give word of the outcome of the Antagonista project and I will let you little ones know, if you beg politely, about the next generation of this project as a new monster entirely.

Yes, I could have given up and disappeared into the ether as most of us did. I chose not to. There is something new near and dear and more egregious in manner than before. What I have in mind is not so politically satisfactory or socially acceptable. It will be at times, but the new incarnation should prove to be a great battle for myself and the two or three contributors on the roster thus far. More on that later. So raise your glasses and rejoice! Hell has new beauties and heaven is only next in line. Part the curtains, and forget the past. The real action is about to begin. This is Gestalt!

with best intents,

Mademoiselle E.

Call it a new method in theoretical natural selection.

Call it what you will.

I, Miss E. will no longer be speaking after this date. Not literally anyhow.

With a belated left foot I kick at you.

With and as a term of endearment of course.

To those that have questioned our methods and function and even our decision to “expose” ourselves to linger in our narcissism may continue to make such statements…but you would all be wrong in your assumptions and perceptions.

At this very moment, I am off to other deeds and a new site and/or “sites” shall soon open up and as I stated before, you are welcome to join us, soon direction to our whereabouts will be found here.

Lastly,  there must be sacrifice to acquire anything worthwhile. The state of  The Antagonista has fallen far below original vision and standards. This was never a blog or place to reveal ranting to the point of personal flagellation. Yet it has become less than organized and less than behind the veil it should have stayed to watch others and reveal them and stay quiet until ready to bite and offer up a morsel for the spectators. Also as said before, it was little more than a tongue in cheek communication between members that should have remained incognito and violently beautiful. Nothing more can be said.

P.S.

As these are my last formal words until arriving at our new home, please do feel free to contact Mr. M ad Ms. X for all you nonsensical needs. You may request their personal affection but the chances are slim of that.

Until we fall together and for the new…”House”

Miss E.

Miss Entropy

Miss Empathy

Miss Eva

Goodnight.

It is official. The email address some of you acquired is no more. Stop bothering us. I will address all matters of importance and unimportance here forthwith.

So, as may have been discovered, we, as a whole are dying. Some literally and some of us; not so much.

To my dear beloved and fiends: Farewell and I bid you a tender adieu.

As one or two of us sip our Stoli and Limoncello, and look damn sexy doing it, we ponder our hiatus and when this Holiday in Beirut is over, we make our way to Berlin. And then what?

Well, the simple fact is we shall return in all our MacArthur glory.

What? The hell you say?

No dear bastions and bastionettes, it tis be true to thy and thee.

But…

The Antagonista…The former House of The Antagonista will have fallen and from the rubble will emerge one, then two, then three or more. Some you may recognize, some you will not. I assure you that the reincarnation will be far more reaching intellectually and sardonically than anything I have found here for myself. Of course, I can only speak for myself.

In memory of the fallen and the victorious as well… I will be sending to you all a memoriam from which we all were cast. We, the bastards and the saints. Pay attention as it may slip by in the night and resurrect itself in the morning.

Do not worry, this little honeymoon will be short lived, then comes the hell we all so desired to begin with. See you soon. Bon Soir until…

Ms E.

Not exactly.

Once it was thought that a place similar to this one was a home, a sanctuary, or a bedroom to frolic in at will.

These thoughts proved to be wrong.

We are all wrong about many things from time to time and yet we come back for more.

Isn’t that always the way of things yet to come undone?

Firstly one may see a new veil.

No.

To return to the appearance from which we sprang only insinuates we are that much closer to death.

Just look at the roster of dead already:

Mr. Q       1983 – 2009

Ms. S     1985 – 2009

All in one tidy fell swoop and they are no more.

They never truly were.

Do not mourn them.

They are never coming back.

Who is next?

Who shall be left?

Or as the old adage goes:   When the devil has had his fill of them and hell has fallen upon one and all, who will be left and what shall become of them?

———–Maison Antagonista———

What?

Shhh!

You can almost hear the creak.

And what of it!

Today, we shipped Miss S off to jolly ‘ol England, then on to Paris.

If she’s smart. She’ll never ever return to this horrible place again.

Bon Voyage and Bon Soir Miss S.

We will miss you madly.

Knock, knock.

Sniff, sniff.

The wolves are so very, very hungry.

And did you not notice?

We are disappearing…

Little

by

little

by day

by day…

Oh the horror of it all!

In a tiny envelope at the base of the doorway,

slipped beneath the threshold,

is a scrap of paper, so delicate and burning.

On it reads the words:

HOUSE

ORPHAN

GUNS

GOOD

NIGHT

SILENCE

PRIME

NUMBER

DAYS

Whatever could it mean?

Where is a white rabbit or a vindictive queen when you need one?

————–The House of Antagonista————

The hand was extended and swiftly swatted away.

When next we meet, you may not recognize what you see before you.

But don’t misunderstand.

We have left fingerprints where they can never be removed.

We have and will abandon some but implore the rest to come out and march.

So sorry to disappoint.

But it is you  who has disappointed us all long ago.

What did you expect? Benevolence?

This is not a democracy, it is a benevolent dictatorship.

Secondly,

There will be a door.

To those concerned, to those who wish to follow, join in, fight, or be merely voyeur…

I suggest you open this door.

I greatly insist that you do so.

Do you still spin your gears?

The veils are being lifted. The weapons traded for far better ones.

The mouths sewn shut so that you may listen.

Yes…

The Antagonista is dying.

This is a mercy killing.

Some of us shall survive and the rest will perish…

and no one will mourn.

When next we meet. It will be here.

Follow the clues and directions given to you.

Should you ignore them…

fall asleep and dream and may you never be allowed inside.

Little by little the path you should follow to find we, the survivors,

will be found here.

Keep looking with eyes wide open.

May we never hurt and be disappointed again.

Careful.

We may be found with jaws wide open to match.

We will all be children again.

You will see for yourself, you who reads this in wonder.

Clue one….day one….

will be found here soon.

See you then…

or not all all.

And so the trigger clicks……………………………………………………

Which is greater and which more desired.

The tales I could tell and the life less than obvious from you and I, yet, here we are. We are here…together. And you don’t even have the courtesy to say a proper hello. Then again, what defines proper these days? I don’t know. I suppose you will just have to go ask someone else. Maybe they could spare you a dollar, or just a pence, half a pound perhaps? A euro will do nicely. I am sure that can be worked out. I would suggest trading something less than valuable but more than a bauble for it. That seems fair.

I was once a great ape, you know, and so were you and those two sisters over there giggling with their mouths closed. Sewn shut, I suppose. Just as well. They only divulge nonsense anyhow and who are we to judge or even partake in that sort of thing? We are maidens, since you asked. We are course for the empire and full of feathers and stuffing. We have silver beaks and ribbons in our teeth. I think that is just enough to entice them and us, as it were.

There was a man by the name of Brzostoski and he said this to me:

“You, you and you and all of you who dare taint the walls with your tongues. I will not be bothered with this. Go ahead you and you and all of you besides them and us. Encompass the adolescent language of us if you must. Go ahead and tear out the result. Go live, win and lose and smash those hands against constellations. Smash them accordingly against the bricks and the pricks. And smash the heads against the phases of the moon, and your heart against another heart. Find the leisure to contemplate the results. You will discover the human condition. Foolish people who say they seek reality do not know what they are saying. For them, the worldly, when they approach it, tremble and feel weak, fearful, terrified, and repelled. They reject the truth and turn somewhere else for it, an easier, or even softer, yes , a softer and lifeless one. Little do they realize they have been through the door itself. Wandering, pandering, and in error, stupefying ignorance in that immensity, said nothing is here and stepped back to dullness. They may be less eloquent and merely realize the word as it is less painful. And so it is. And I must stop it and step back. And so shall you and you and us. Without them in their errors, what of us? What then?”

J. Brzostoski

………………………and thank you very much for joining me then although you never intended to. I am sure it did not hurt all that much. It never does, you see.

Ms. A

Katerina:  May I ask where you were born and how old you are at this very moment?

Miss S:  Vancouver B.C, 161 in small animal years.

Katerina:  You believe in the paranormal but only for animals and children, is that correct?

Miss S:  It goes a bit deeper than that but I think that might bore you to get into. It is that I feel the whole heaven and hell concept, whether you believe in that or not, is geared towards the adult or the incredulous sinner. That is where the direction into long winded explanations is. So…also I just feel that the innocents are the small things in this big earthly cage.

Katerina:  It’s a cruel world for small things.

Miss S:  And mistakes and wars are to be had. Such is life.

Katerina:  What is the biggest mistake you have made…besides agreeing to let me interrogate you?

Miss S:  Mistakes are relative, I think…so…you could…I don’t know a major mistake…if I were to get all philosophical, then I would say it is that I let myself grow older far too fast and did it blindly. You get regret with your pain and punishment. But really…I like mistakes, personal ones, not those that harm others, although that goes with the act, right? Um…I am okay with mistakes because it gives you a chance to repair the damage caused. When the glass is shattered, you have a chance to piece it back together and see what you’ve become and moments like that are golden.

Katerina:  Nicely put. Then tell me what was the best decision you ever made?

Miss S:  I have a nice selection of recent choices that seem to be falling in order. Now, in hope of not jinxing myself, I have recently decided to risk everything and take what little money I have and nothing more really and move to Europe for a while. I am hoping that will turn into the grand decision you speak of.

Katerina:  Does God exist and if so, will you tame the beast?

I am putting myself out there by saying I believe in something. I cannot really put…like…um…a name or anything attached to it because that seems so preconditioned. I believe in something more than human and something beyond this life or at least something inexplicable that walks among us. That is how it should be. All mysterious and unknowable.

Katerina:  Which makes for another question. How do you feel about being less unknowable or anonymous in this very moment.

Miss E:  You mean the whole masked thing. I see. Well…um…it was a request and a test put out there by others and I am up for a challenge now and again. I am not lying here emotionally naked or anything.

Katerina:  I have not met you but once before this day and after speaking with you today, you seem very mature and a combination of naive and in control for your age.  Is that because you are a woman, based on beliefs, or completely an act?

Miss S:  I am not an actress. But thank you. I would like to think I am those things you mentioned but then we have to remember a very important thing often denied…humility. Growing up the way I did has a lot to do with it. I have noticed most of us here that have spoken have had similar backgrounds. I think a life of tragedy and growing up fast and without too many comforts enables a person properly rather than disable them. As for being a woman…um…I think that is a responsibility not just a gender thing. It is a privilege and a burden to be born female. If you use your gender as a weakness or even as a means of getting yourself through life will inevitably corrupt you and what is left is this shell of a pathetic thing. I am still young and realize I could be destroyed still but not without a fight.

Katerina:  You don’t miss the innocence of childhood?

Miss S:  Honestly…I just got over that whole “I’m an adult now, must be responsible and contribute to society and prepare my 401 k and plan my retirement and fat family.” By that, I mean fuck being a kid and fuck being and adult too. I hate labels and being told what to do. I will contribute in a big way, just not a common way. That’s not for me.

Katerina:  So you are leaving this continent soon, will that have any impact on the whole Antagonista project and the forthcoming abomination project of which we cannot speak?

Miss S:  Yeah…and no. I don’t do a whole hell of a lot, in case you haven’t noticed. But if things grow into the monster I expect then I am totally there with bells on. I plan to pop my little bunny head up once in a while to see who is who and who has been forced to retreat, so to speak.

Any parting words?

Miss S:  I would like to show thanks to Miss E. and Mr. M who started this thing in other forms a while ago and allowed me to move in and out as well as put up with my nonsense. It has been lovely.

Miss X:  Death?

Mister M: Yes, death.

Miss X: Is that a pro or a con?

Mister M: Both. But we should indeed elaborate.

THE PROS :

Miss X: Sponge baths.

Mister M: Lots of Jello and sympathy.

Miss X: Thin figure and fashionably pale.

Mister M: Wheelchairs and sexy nurses…zombie nurses.

Miss X: Flowers and attention.

Mister M: Morphine.

Miss X: Hats…no wigs.

Mister M: Television galore.

Miss X: Soft pillows and a plethora of pills.

Mister M: Casket shopping.

Miss X: Remission………….could go either way, I suppose.

Cons :

Miss X: Priests and family.

Mister M: Pain and nausea.

Miss X: Physical and emotional pain.

Mister M: Vomit.

Miss X: Discharge.

Mister M: Eau de hospital.

Miss X: Bloody discharge.

Mister M: Cheesy discharge.

Miss X: Malignant tumors.

Mister M: Bile breath.

Miss X: Meeting God.

Mister M: We should quit.

Miss X: After you, my dear.

Mister M: Cancer’s the new black.

Miss X: There’s always that.

Ms. X

Mr. M

There are just not enough words, at least in the English language, that can speak my admiration and gratitude to the work of Sion Sono. Forget that I don’t like horror, or gore, or blatant violence against the weak and innocent….however, I do love me some violence. Keep it smart, mind you. Keep it elegant. keep it beneficial. Keep it suurreal and necessary to the story line written by someone who is not us. Keep that in mind as well. We, the ones with the eyes and ears are the audience, the spectators, the no ones. We have been invited to partake in an event that is not by our own design, yet, more often than not, we criticize every last thing spoon fed to us and presented to us and continue to flap our jaws about it like the nonsense speaking puppets that most are. Most not all.

So who does get the prize in having the honour of speaking, of critiquing? Not you or I, but we will do it anyway. I am no hypocrite myself. I admit in full fashion that I complain constantly and joke of almost everything because I, for the life of me, cannot produce the works like those I admire. However again, I do come close. Or…I am getting closer, I should say. And that in itself is more than you are doing, you who reads this, right now. Stand up! Stretch. Let out a yell or a howl and put that brain and hands to work. What? You have bills to pay, a family to support, a boss to answer to? Silly you. Remember when you were younger and life was an illusion of your own device? What, you say? Life isn’t what you predicted it to be? It dealt you a few unprecedented blows, did it? Now who’s fault is that?

When we are young we have complete control of one thing and one thing only, our imagination. Lose that and you are all doomed. You will conform. You will submit to the need for constant and greater monetary worth and you will desire more toys, more food, more,  more, more. But hang on to the imagination, the trauma life deals you. Hang on to the very worst of it and use it or fashion it into a weapon. Now, what do we have here? A killing machine? A toy of seduction? It is whatever you wish and excuses will never help you only harm you and make you more pathetic than you already are. Get up and fight damn it! Teach those children to do the same. You don’t want them to know your pain do you?

This is why I love people like Sion Sono. In fifty years of life, what will you have done? In thirty? In forty? How much imagination will have been spilled before “the audience”? Or do you require more practical thinking? Silly you.

Mr. Q