Sunday, 23 August 2009


My darling Rachelle and I were discussing filial cannibalism, the other day. Simply put, the eating of children, although one should note that it usually refers to a common practice amoungst a given species. Hamsters, like. Or alligators. 

 Now, aside from being fond of the satires of Jonathan Swift, I have never condoned the eating of babies. It's just rude. What I do condone is the artistic depiction of such an act, and so, leaving a few search terms on my mother's computer that are sure to lift an eyebrow, I've found a couple of the aforementioned depictions via the world wide web - worth a vidi, I'm sure. 

I was looking for a black and white of Nazi Vampires Eating Babies but alas, the internet is a cruel mistress and I've settled 
for and oil canvas  by painter, Andrew Wodzianski. I've never heard of him either, it's alright. 

我将写关于此的一首诗. 婴孩头是一样甜的象苹果并且保证长寿和双重幸福. 黄铜手不赦免吃婴孩或种族主义. 我爱你所有. Artist,

網路的广泛使用,使得成千上万的人怀有与性有关的食人幻想这一现象突显出来。许多论坛和用户组专门交流这类幻想的图片和故事, 的作品就是这类作品的一个极好例子。在这类论坛中很典型的情况是,会员幻想着吃掉自己所喜爱性别的其他会员,或者幻想着被他们吃掉。可见,食人恋物或食人性心理变态是最极端的性恋物之一。

Note that Time
 devours all. This is easily one of my favourite works of art, Francisco de Goya depicts the titan, Chronos devouring one of his sons. I'm not a connoisseur of 19th century, encephalitis fueled masterworks but I am a fan of any painting that look this intense. Actually, on that note, theres one more I find intriguing for the same reason...

Artemisia Gentileschi, Italian Baroque painter. There's no baby eating in this one but damn, isn't that intense? On the right is Judith, the left, her hand maiden and under the knife is poor Holofernes, who tried to eliminate the Jews and made the mistake of trying to bed one. There a nice quotation for this, to paraphrase: "Ah, those Jewish women. They'll do it to you every time, they'll promise you the world and then they'll cut your head off. And then they'll celebrate." Poignant, no? Being fair, I think it was Caravaggio who painted it first but it's nice to get a woman's perspective on such things.

No conclusion, just the digs.

Friday, 21 August 2009

Calgary Headquarters

A note from the Brass Bureau, following the relocation of their literary headquarters.

Ladies and gentlemen, after the kind of delay which usually accompanies transmissions from a nearby star system or Maoist republic federal elections, the long overdue establishment of The Brass Bureau's new Calgary headquarters at last reaches it's ripe, supple, fruit bearing state with the acquisition of new, working hardware and a reliable internet connection.

Like a pubescent teenager, we've been hard at work, shaving, washing our sheets and rooting out obscure topics of interest with unhealthy obsession. Truly, this is the golden age of smallscale internet journalism and we are more than pleased to bring our juvenile indulgences to teh internets with all the inappropriate content of a drop-in shelter washroom.

The new Bureau offices are now located in the heart of Pumphill in South Calgary. A population of 1800 and an average family net income of $93,360, a nice view of the reservoir and ample food storage for the long, cold death of winter that desolates the landscape as far as the eye can see with nothing but the sound of crunching, squeaking ice under your boots and the smell of car exhaust coupled with your own freezing, cracking sinuses to remind you that you're still alive, we are so glad to be broadcasting from this fabulous new location.

Seriously, this winter will kill us all. If you live here, you should probably apply for a passport. If you already have a passport, then you've clearly understood the death that takes this frozen hell for nine long months of the year and chosen - at least in brevity - to escape it's icy clutches.

This city is a rich, geriatric man, wracked with phlebitis and incontinence, dying of hypothermia.

Stay tuned.
Love, Herr Baksza.