Enter the BwO. Enter the PoMo. The ur-w rm which consumes its own tail. Symbollessness, stereotype, surface, horizontality, insignificance wrap their own prehensile tail about the BwO, inseminating the host, to gestate a new monster to rip from the host's chest. The third strata to be mined away, another natural resource spent in an orgasmic flood. Becoming Intense, Becoming Animal.
Trees converge with, are already inscribed within, rhizomes.
Beaten and tied, flogged and fucked, stitched and stuffed, coerced into desirelessness. The cybernetic CwO will doubtless irradiate itself. To once again dis-assemble the modernist totalizing urge. Toss the salad and the bowl, the nitrites have gone bad, the lettuce leaves wilted and browned. Nor the mosaic, newest icon of the politically glib, with its inherent individuality, and larger, totalizing unity of shape and form.