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Secondhand women.Umělec 2009/2
Secondhand women | theater | en cs de
WE ARE VERY GOOD
WE ARE VERY NICE
WE ARE VERY FAST
WE ARE PRECISE
WE ARE POPULAR
WE ARE JUST PERFECT
WE ARE PRACTICAL
WE ARE AMAZING.
FOR SOME LITTLE MONEY,
WE WILL WASH YOUR MONEY,
DIRTY MONEY, YOUR DIRTY MONEY
FOR SOME LITTLE MONEY
YOU WILL GET LESS MONEY,
BUT CLEAN MONEY
WE ARE USED TO CLEAN
WE ARE USED TO SCRUB
WE ARE SPOTLESS
WIPING OFF YOUR DIRT
You have a great idea, talent and need
to share it
You have no time, money, space, infrastructure, or connections
You find out—who is the best
Who has the time, money, space, infrastructure, connections
You get close, find out what they drink
You talk about AN IDEA with passion
Take the main part
Use the whole space, infrastructure, connections
AND YOU BECOME AN ART SQUATTER
Maybe somebody will notice your true talent and give you some work
I should flatten myself out so that this magazine won’t bulge-out. I’ve just moved into this artistic magazine. My annual gym membership should ensure that I my chest and belly get flatter. Mr. Švejnar also goes to my gym. Sometimes I see him sitting there straddling a polished piece of equipment all the while mouthing words from a TV screen dangling emptily from above a treadmill. He exists in double form. He squats just like me: at night I sleep flat between two pages within this magazine; he likely spends the night in the four-cornered box with a screen. I continue running without moving from my spot, sometimes as much as forty minutes, toward Mr. Švejnar, the sports channel or Animal Planet. Perhaps by the time I’ve run three-hundred kilometres someone will shout “bingo” and both the treadmill and I will move a millimetre forward.
A quick dip into the sauna, I must dry off enough so that I won’t be wet and get stuck between the pages. Earlier—that is when I still lived three-dimensionally—I’d awaken in a horrific sweat after a nightmare. To avoid the sticky sweat, I had to buy a calming psychowalk-sleepman with special glasses. The machine itself was so awkward that to slam it down—the only way to press it into that desired flat form—I needed a thick book. Fortunately, there are millions of those at Divus, the publishing house for the magazine in whose two-page spread I’ve moved into. But not even Madame Rettigová’s cookbook was heavy enough to flatten the good-night technology. Luckily, in the back in the Umělec translating department I found a copy of the Old Testament with Goethe’s
anti-Semitic interpretation of the Ten Commandments and the Koran and the Yellow Pages—all bound together. So I banged it
out on the machine and flattened the relaxation technology that influenced by sleep regime between two pages.
I can’t bring any guys with me to my squat within the two pages. An editor chided me, saying that a couple of pubic hairs stickily glued in an article is disgusting—not art. I tried to defend myself arguing that art can be anything: hair, nails, or even body hair.
But he’d hear none of it. So I twisted my pelvis backward, sucked my stomach in, and went back between the folds. I wouldn’t want my two pages to be raided... I am flexible; indeed, I’ve already lived in a Dutch fire truck, in a trailer, and—out of love—in a broom closet. So I’ll also get used to this magazine spread.
HOW TO survive crises:
Now there are crises around the world and you have to take care of your self.
The best thing is to go early to bed and if you can not then you should either go and take a good walk or take a hot bath or drink hot milk before sleeping or have sex. Do not take drugs because that is confusing and worries you more.
You have to take care of your body. Do some exercise. Go out and run or swim or to the gym or scream in a pillow.
If you are too lazy to move your fat and ugly body, you should phone a family member and exercise your voice at least.
Write down everything what you spend and do not think about your bank account. Don’t spend money on what you don’t need. If you feel the urge to shop, go window shopping. DO NOT SPEND MONEY.
Do not stuff yourself with food to kill your emotions. Do not go hungry to the shop. If you don’t have any food around eat some paper or visit a family member that has a big fridge. Use this time to think positive and take the long wanted diet.
And if this is not working at all:
Have some coffee and cigarettes with a big chunk of chocolate and a bottle of Russian vodka, invite a friend over
and start slapping his face and kick him really hard in the leg, then fight hard. Go downtown, take a lot of piko,
find a guy and fuck him in some dirty alley and go to a bar and drink your brain out and run away before paying
the bill, then go to your doctor and get some sleeping pills.
The crises are here to stay and if you cannot deal with it you have a problem.