Category Archives: ultraculture
“The glowing halo of the sainted is the electric pulse of friction, flesh on flesh, the excitement of earthly delights. Thus, the glow is not from innocence or purity or any such moral nonsense, but the glow of the rapture of the body. Every saint is a horny motherfucker, thirsty like a mad one for the Wine of Life. Every saint is also a bacchanal, every saint is in love with sin and that is what keeps each one alive and glowing, the tenacious desire of the body. Engine of heat and light and sound. A saint could power a whole town if you hooked some wires up to those glistening genitals.”
…from Steven Hirsch’s “Little Sticky Legs”:
“I was getting ready to go to bed and it was late and I happened to be looking out a window and I see what I can only call a very large bird in a tree. And I’ looking at it and it has very large eyes.
“And I feel myself just sinking down on the bed and passing out. And the next thing I know is I feel that somebody, these little guys came into my bedroom and they took me outside. I have no idea what happened after that and the next morning when I had woken up I forgot the entire thing. Which is something I don’t understand. I don’t know why I should keep forgetting all these things.“
A strange phenomenon, almost supernatural.
What you will never know is that it is a strange patch of cement in the center of the road that is actually the 12th dimensional flesh of some creature that cannot be fathomed. The space in the road will pucker like a red infected zit blister and a small turd like excretion will appear. Foul in taste and smell but toxick in a way that produced visions of nearby universes and leaves a residual power, most commonly a sexual prowess that allows the worshippers to perform carnal activities until they can again glimpse these worlds.