Endlessness Is No Desolation [Paperback]

To blurb this book, I submerged my brain in its popping polyvatic village cauldron, its speaking sung thru me like comets as cosmic Cuntos. These are unbinding spells. Give consciousness back to the matriarchy. Wouldn't the mothering of consciousness be better? Secretes E, her potions conjunct her linguistic glamour. She unspirals us from patriarchal overmind, while pregnant and dancing forth into space with the goddesses. This arrow is so sharp and plumed. Pleasure. Badass. Brilliant. Lava. Matrilineal gnosis. Revolution, she says and does: afterbirth it, claim, re-enact, cuntify it. Spell your spell. As Freud was wrong about women he was wrong about death (duh). Drive? Death can be mothered. Father Uterus* (*Hiromi Ito). Channeling as uterine prerogative ('spiked ghost blossoms.') FEED YOUR HEAR. Mother's milk/tongue. RIDE IAMBIC PIGS. LOL let's crack it open and BE NO DESOLATION. Be witchery, wall-less, altered, alert. 'We might reclaim killjoy to mean an ample empathy.' Be these magical actions. Absolutely feminine, disobedient, radiant, scathing. -Sarah Fox

One of the infuriating and regular pieces of advice from the etheric beings to me is 'play.' END is an achievement in play. It is true joy. It is perfect gemini anxiety/flexibility and human strength, sitting with and passing through difficult fury and ugly love. Genius survival mode gameplay in a world already over. -Feng Sun Chen

Unike wedlock with digital clocks, time in this endlessness is no desolation plus today I queefed on god plus each, every, and all of the bodies' transformations plus puss plus serious muppet logic plus ectoplasmic nun fetus plus bird alphabets form trauma maps plus no blue distance to the whole machine plus the monster truck of the endocrine plus the anthroposcenery plus Elisabeth Workman threads spinal chords all through the big fucked up everything for us. -Michael Sikkema

How to begin without comparing this book to the ló7