Processing the Death of Dr. Smith (2009)
Image initially made with QuaSZ. Post-processed until the circuits could stand all they could stand.
Godard Replies'One evening…an actor asked me to write a play for an all-black cast. But what exactly is a black? First of all, what's his colour?'-- Jean GenetSpoiled brats with guns play at being revolutionaries.The way to wreck the economy, they discover,Is to stop buying things. So they move intoTrash bins and scavenge jaundiced ribs,Quote Marx and wave Mao’s little red book,But it’s still only women who have to clean up.They are roped and chained like slaves, heldAt gunpoint, made to bend over and shakeTheir booties on rap videos where machos Bling, and bling again, as if gold teethCould turn anybody white. ConcentrationCamps collect what gets punched out the mouth,Turning crack fat into cakes of soap, Chemically cloning from the gene poolSpecial fragrances to cover up the smell.Everybody’s becoming a brand name;Nobody realizes they’re feeding on each other,Since laugh tracks can be switched on or offSo America knows what’s supposed to be funny.Dream merchants market reruns of rerunsFor people to enjoy what they’re fond of.The shin bone beats tribal rhythms on Human flesh stretched over a drumWithin a 140-word limit.[Disposable Poem December 8, 2010]Dr. Mike
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