Category Archives: Madeline Stowe

Dear Retailers,


                                                                                                              I fucking love this song.

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News of the week.

“…simulate the stringent rules you might face later.”

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Georgia O’Keeffe vs. Slavoj Žižek

This weeks contestants are  two notorious opponents in each of there respective fields.  Our contest, a forum of Artist against Philosopher begins with Georgia Totto O’Keef rivaling Slavoj Žižek .

Let us begin with the introductions.

Georgias worship stems from her  still life portraits, in particular, the infamous and yonic imagery of blossoming flowerets.  O’keef’s printed  reproductions may be purchased for five to twenty five dollars  at garage sales and fetching larger denominations at auction allowing the elite to rid their walls of figurative vaginas.

Although Slavoj Žižek  may smell like Slovenian sweat-milk, human sacrifices and Mistletoe he had a book published in the United States and became really popular.  Žižek  also seems to suffer from a deviant sense of humor and a perverse septum requiring specific attention from his fingertips.

Let us compare various Georgia O’Keef’s paintings to how Slavoj Žižek might react to them from recorded speeches.


I could stop right there, however, viewing Slavoj Žižek as a promoter of Georgia O’Keef’s images could disturb and darken O’Keef’s images

Both challengers are advertising sensation, inspiration and sentiment, however,  only one may realize a successful ovation.  Georgia O’Keef’s attempts  fell from repetitious 1930s Freudian representations of  vaginae into 1970s feminist pornography hence never erasing her stigma enveloped in mute colored petals.   Now, notwithstanding and although opinions float upon winds as quickly as someone can pass, Slavoj Žižek reflects  upon pertinent, current social phenomena judiciously.  Perhaps Žižek ultimately wins this bout for the fact that what he really delivers is the veal stock for a sumptuous demi-glace and hilariously strokes the intelligence of us all.

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Our human bodies don’t produce infinite shapes of eyes.

Yep, if you were born with fucked up eyes, you’re fucked……imagine what happens with the rest of you.


All shapes are finite and can be counted.


I sometimes wish my eye were shaped like a box with adhesive abrasions.  We can cook pineapple, it’s a fruit with a Fibonacci skin.