Speaking In Tongues

T-ough Press

Flash Screw Jack
Go Now Gentlemen! Too Overloaded for Mad-Baths

by Vladimir Shulgin

Everything was quiet & calm in Moscow Babylon. «What a crew!» — as William Burroughs once wrote. Sucking mass-media junk food provided by «mooches, fags, four-flushers, stool pigeons», zines by self-indulgent morons drowned in onthological cocquerty — «unwilling to create, unable to steal, always short of money, always whining for credits». No style, no taste, no spirit of music. They are hiding in a forced smile a waste ground of self-pity. Like cockroaches bustling into Black and Tan headquarters after gas-attack, nothing-to-say journalists are floating from one born dead glossy magazine to another. «Their veins mostly gone» in dependent correctness, «retreated back to the bone to escape the probing needle». Waiting like hogs their groundwank day. They hate just an idea of true artistic union fulfilled in life of true visionaries, «bright & somehow fastidios», as Georgy Osipov said, «cause of being too close to beyond», «whose charm, hedonistic discipline, provocations, discoveries & findings, transgressions were often reached by loosing good name, reputation & even life». «One toke over the line, sweet Jesus… one toke over…» to leave those bastards.
Why we are not in there? — are screaming those always cool recurrent VIP cops & respected lousy dwarfs, breathing heavily, feeling Old griming Artistic Monkey pissing on their backs & are desperately trying to dissect that sworn enemy. «Show us persons to crucify in remorse!» — that is their demand. «Crowfy us showsons to cow in perverse!» — they insist on a «disastrous zoological experiment». Everything was quiet & calm in buzzing Moscow Babylon.
Like venomous snakes coming with a flute whistling right from the grave, obsessed by frozen tuneful energy, appeared another hated shark cunts, too international to be castrated, too overloaded to be lobotomized, too easy to be killed, too healthy to believe in them, too comfortable to be a myth, too many skin for a theif. Not recommended for cheek to cheek conversation with «Silent Majority» dancing in its Re-Awaken Drug Hysteria, searching «for Nazis run their Towns» or Satanists fucking Evangelic polar bear. Not recommended for fashionable youth full colour magazines. Not recommended, not recommended… «As your attorney I advise you… Surgery uncertain after eyes removed»… with Tzar`s bones far gone pruning carrots.
Georgy Osipov invocates ghosts of Transilvania… after midnight each Monday & Wednesday. Radio 101. Alex Kervey, provocative author, hustler in charge for the TRI Operation, hardly to be identified, still searched by the law, invocated sonic power beasts of the Home Office… those dead pilots of the endless flight «smiling, screaming and dreaming, testing high passing out cold, goin` for each other, talkin` together head off».

«Lock them out and bar the door…»