Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Understanding The Being

Jackie Kong's 1983 film The Being is a perturbed imploration to quit butt-fucking the shit out of Mother Earth.

The Being, augury of mankind's final state of decadent putrescence, is transformed into a sea cucumber nourished on its own rectal gravy. For Kong, mankind is nothing more than a gangrenous necro-wang ejecting lethal yogurt into the pimpled posterior of a prostrate and pusillanimous Pan.

All of history is but a pageant of pungent poop. Michael not only seeks solace in the bowels of the earth within the confines of a "dump": his mother in fact produced him in a bowel movement. Michael Smith is the excrement of the human race, birthed in a toilet, nursed on diarrhea.

Michael's mother--Linda or something--symbolizes contemporary womanhood. Outwardly a typical soccer mom who walks around radioactive dumps wearing a full-body condom for some reason, she is in reality a dissolute cock-pocket smeared with ruby lipstick and distended with musk-scented douche.

Rife with symbolism, Jackie Kong's quixotic entreaty to cease sucking the toxic dick of nuclear power amuses, entertains, and stimulates--but it fails to persuade. Therefore, one must conclude that dumping nuclear waste into the aquifer does not--and will not--affect the water.

A combustible atomic porcupine.

Juggling work, school, and a demanding masturbation regimen, Ben Ford also hosts his own blog,

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