I tell the ineffable: jokes that have nothing to envy second-hand pornography, bodies that slaughter bones by perpetrating buggery with the verve of whores, men that identify themselves with the most aberrant violence and women that have never given birth to anything but self-proclaimed weaknesses — and yet they know the truest hurt, the one they need to hide because it is too pure to display and too corrosive to throw it up: it would ruin their vocal chords, their teeth, the carpet where they have collapsed.
A polyphonic tragedy: five voices that cannot sing anymore, an epicede in the name of sweetness, a far-from-the-chronotope house, some messed up poetry that capitulates in front of the cruelty of Literature — that must not cover, but rather uncover.
And here I am to anatomise the vertebral column of this fat body to seek the innards, the skeleton without flesh, the flesh without skeleton. I have to analyse what is on the outward appearance and keep what could allow me to dig deeper into the crack: I have to open up the wound, make it a bramble of words to observe what nobody wants to talk about, what is controversial, judging everything I'll bump into — judgement is the prerogative of human beings, even of those that do not know to be ones, even of those that wish they could be something else from themselves, even of those that have found the strength to abjure ther inner nature. For now my identity is not relevant: I will have time to reveal who I am, regret writing this preface and restore an order.
All is possible in an overturned universe, in the absurd that Daniel, Desdemona, Amarantha, Toscus and Bios swallow to manipulate the holon, without being able to glimpse the catastrophe, the surge of the logic of non-meaning, of elision.
And what is certain is that the archai, the principles must be killed, not weakened; that the most devious violence is the one that hovers over impious-of-hair thighs, trying to normalise what should never be considered normal.
There is no traditionalism that can stand against the ravages of time, despot that modifies all of the values without falling into nihilism, into their obliteration: all fathers must die.