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Thursday 27 February 2014

'Do Not Censor', by Craig Podmore--A Review by Christine Murray

Do Not Censor

by Craig Podmore Published Oneiros Books 2013

Jonestown
In the name of television, The crucifix And the glossy magazines
(The deflowered dead that we are.)
A-fucking-men.  

  Jonestown, by Craig Podmore

Do Not Censor is divided into two sections, Fiction and Reality. Craig Podmore exposes the blurred line between the two in a manner that reflects how reality in a post-millenarist  culture of movie snuff and sex consumption that shows its hard edges much in the way drunken starlets upload their sex tapes to feed a  cannibalising machine that will have their blood..
The Ghosts in the Machine of Fiction parade their post-mortem selves as desired objects that  have burnt their image into our irises.  Distracting icons who hid a multitude whilst revealing generous  acres of flesh. They are the  abbatoir-hung victims of a real masochistic need for adulation and they are in the hands of the sadist.

from, The Polemic
‘The Crenshawgrave Where Beth Short lay Cut like a perfect film clip- Her body edited and framed. The raven dreamer Took the murder scene stage; The world shocked, bereaved- Death performance, a media sensation.’

Marilyn, Elizabeth Short , Betty Page,  icons of the industrial non-culture of post-WWII and Hiroshima, projected fellatrices and suicides, whose addictions fed (and feeds) psychotic addiction to non-reality. The very real reality of the undead. Here is the underbelly of vocalisation that Tom Waits sang in Sweet Little Bullet From The Barrel Of A Pretty Blue Gun. Save now the underbelly is writ large across an abattoir of ghastly smiles in every newsagent across western civilisation. A trickle down of Hollywood snuff culture into every home that bothers to buy it. Turn away from it :
 
Hollywood Is A Correctional Facility
‘The teenage girl Etching ‘Destroy’ onto her Book of Revelations. Shoplifting make-up That Greta Garbo wears’.
from Fiction.

The Reality section of Do Not Censor  is not problematic, it is emblematic. Here celluloid snuff is played out on shopping streets and in motel rooms. Here the sociopath/psychopath whose head is filled with Hollywood BDSM victimization gets their kicks in a two dimensional world, the type of psychopathy that leads to massacres at premieres, or robot warfare in suburban neighbourhoods.
 
Gunmen On The High Street
 
‘Morality is absent in consumerism As the gunmen shoot the shoppers down But the shoppers are numb to the bullets As they arise and continue to shop.’
from Reality

The reader needn’t assume the role of judge given the toxicity of post-milleniarism. The screen plays out Hollywood-snuff in the blurred lines between how a reality is perceived, and how it is writ large onto that tarnished screen where audiences are umbilically fed a diet of 50 ft buttocks and botoxed faces.
 
Daily Masturbation and Internal bleeding
‘Porn star dialogue For the menial tasks Of pro-creation
And biblical passages For the erotically charged
from Reality.

Again the undead have burned their irrationality into mass consumption, with reality a fine thread plucked and fucked by the advertisers who have people caring about stars weight increase, who is fucking who and why starlets do radical things to their bodies- whether implant or  removal of skin to the point of nauseating microscopy.
This is the culture of nadir – a nadir of cultural expression where flesh is the oldest currency. Its underbelly brought to the level of entertainment where entertainment aspires to culture.
bc

Purchase Link for Do Not Censor

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