m. forajter
anti-greta climbed from the teenaged body of climate activist greta thunberg the way one climbs out of a sack of meat.
1.
anti-greta stands in grim resignation. she buries her metal straw and reusable tote with her own hands, shoveling fistfuls of dirt over the metal and canvas until they have sunk back to the earth. it is imperfect. but no being must be left unburied, flesh exposed to the wolves and and the sun and the birds. it's good that it's done; even in this limited way. it is an ending, and endings are important. with dust clotting her palms, anti-greta feels she is free to make a choice, unencumbered. she is alone, naked, and has no capital or progeny. she can throw herself to some unhuman means now; something beyond human reckoning itself.
anti-greta stands in grim resignation. she buries her metal straw and reusable tote with her own hands, shoveling fistfuls of dirt over the metal and canvas until they have sunk back to the earth. it is imperfect. but no being must be left unburied, flesh exposed to the wolves and and the sun and the birds. it's good that it's done; even in this limited way. it is an ending, and endings are important. with dust clotting her palms, anti-greta feels she is free to make a choice, unencumbered. she is alone, naked, and has no capital or progeny. she can throw herself to some unhuman means now; something beyond human reckoning itself.
2.
the story should be an unknowing. an operation of demonstrable effects of our choices on the earth. but also in affect, being none. the disconnect between the two. not a stage but a meadow. a meadow. anti-greta, for example, might force feed a goose plastic bottle caps and lard, then present the wilted liver to a local student association as a study in
gastronomy. The students would be ill to see such unnatural violence and would call for laws against liver pâté. But the goose itself has already suffered, and beyond its corpse looms the void.
the story should be an unknowing. an operation of demonstrable effects of our choices on the earth. but also in affect, being none. the disconnect between the two. not a stage but a meadow. a meadow. anti-greta, for example, might force feed a goose plastic bottle caps and lard, then present the wilted liver to a local student association as a study in
gastronomy. The students would be ill to see such unnatural violence and would call for laws against liver pâté. But the goose itself has already suffered, and beyond its corpse looms the void.
3.
what does it mean to ‘save the earth’? perhaps this should start with a death, like a mystery novel, or an episode of unsolved mysteries.
what does it mean to ‘save the earth’? perhaps this should start with a death, like a mystery novel, or an episode of unsolved mysteries.
4.
anti-greta climbed from the teenaged body of climate activist greta thunberg the way one climbs out of a sack of meat. this is how she was born. she is the exact image of the original greta, yet somehow greener, like pond scum or radioactivity. being born this way, from the body of another, is not in anyway unusual, but anti-greta was not so much born as "emerged,” like an abortion or an explosion. it goes without saying that the original greta's body was destroyed.
anti-greta climbed from the teenaged body of climate activist greta thunberg the way one climbs out of a sack of meat. this is how she was born. she is the exact image of the original greta, yet somehow greener, like pond scum or radioactivity. being born this way, from the body of another, is not in anyway unusual, but anti-greta was not so much born as "emerged,” like an abortion or an explosion. it goes without saying that the original greta's body was destroyed.
5.
anti-greta is no clone but instead a vacuum. an absence made by conjuring the thought of the original. she is fleshy and yet viscous, perhaps a bit pixelated with spare digital artefacts obscuring her edges. maybe. but she also eats eggs voraciously, patting her stomach and smacking her lips and calling for more eggs.
anti-greta is no clone but instead a vacuum. an absence made by conjuring the thought of the original. she is fleshy and yet viscous, perhaps a bit pixelated with spare digital artefacts obscuring her edges. maybe. but she also eats eggs voraciously, patting her stomach and smacking her lips and calling for more eggs.
6.
is anti-greta still in stockholm, sitting outside the parliament building in her yellow rain slicker? does she have two reddish-brown braids hanging down her back, and black converse high tops? is her mouth set in the same line of grim resignation? does this greta want to save the world at all?
is anti-greta still in stockholm, sitting outside the parliament building in her yellow rain slicker? does she have two reddish-brown braids hanging down her back, and black converse high tops? is her mouth set in the same line of grim resignation? does this greta want to save the world at all?
7.
anti-greta rises from the viscera of the original greta like a vampire; she slowly ascends like a levered plank and both her eyes are covered in large silver coins. “i have crossed with the ferryman,” she says and immediately sets to counting all the wheat at the side of the highway with her unnervingly long fingers. what will this ghoul bring upon us?
anti-greta rises from the viscera of the original greta like a vampire; she slowly ascends like a levered plank and both her eyes are covered in large silver coins. “i have crossed with the ferryman,” she says and immediately sets to counting all the wheat at the side of the highway with her unnervingly long fingers. what will this ghoul bring upon us?
8.
but what if it switches? what if she doesn’t know about mirrors? the night before, greta had dreamed she was looking through a mirror, and over her shoulder she could see out her bedroom window. instead of a husband appearing in the moonlight, greta saw a giant head made of garbage, its pate bald and infested with gulls like tiny mites. she could smell the trash even through the dream and awoke in the morning with her face twisted up as if she spent the whole night eating lemons.
but what if it switches? what if she doesn’t know about mirrors? the night before, greta had dreamed she was looking through a mirror, and over her shoulder she could see out her bedroom window. instead of a husband appearing in the moonlight, greta saw a giant head made of garbage, its pate bald and infested with gulls like tiny mites. she could smell the trash even through the dream and awoke in the morning with her face twisted up as if she spent the whole night eating lemons.
9.
no husband, no husband. and her sister to be married that very day. she sat at the kitchen table, watching the caterer put finishing touches on canapés and tiny sandwiches and amuse-bouche filled with squirts of decadent cream, while lazily pulling tiny slivers of plastic out from her cheeks and under her tongue.
no husband, no husband. and her sister to be married that very day. she sat at the kitchen table, watching the caterer put finishing touches on canapés and tiny sandwiches and amuse-bouche filled with squirts of decadent cream, while lazily pulling tiny slivers of plastic out from her cheeks and under her tongue.
10.
she had not emerged from a sack of meat. she had not dreamed of a monstrous pile of trash. she had not seen the festering life within the decay; maggots falling in waterfall cascades off of chunks of meat; swarms of flies as dense as a storm cloud; and the birds, the terrible screeching of birds, the splattering of their dung on rotting mounds of potatoes and big macs and plastic sheeting from construction sites.
she had not emerged from a sack of meat. she had not dreamed of a monstrous pile of trash. she had not seen the festering life within the decay; maggots falling in waterfall cascades off of chunks of meat; swarms of flies as dense as a storm cloud; and the birds, the terrible screeching of birds, the splattering of their dung on rotting mounds of potatoes and big macs and plastic sheeting from construction sites.
11.
what if she went to the dump? what if she found a head? what if she had dreamed it? a human head. just a head.
what if she went to the dump? what if she found a head? what if she had dreamed it? a human head. just a head.
12.
she spit out another piece of plastic, then felt a terrible itch in her eye. the caterer gave her a stern look as she rubbed at her face but soon greta was weeping little plastic gems in a great font. she kept popping the little crystals from underneath her eyelids until she had a pile on the counter next to the canapés.
she spit out another piece of plastic, then felt a terrible itch in her eye. the caterer gave her a stern look as she rubbed at her face but soon greta was weeping little plastic gems in a great font. she kept popping the little crystals from underneath her eyelids until she had a pile on the counter next to the canapés.
“you are ruining the wedding,” said the caterer, “do that in the bathroom like everyone else.”
13.
without the image of her future husband, greta could not participate in the wedding. besides, her sister had not given her a role, not even as flower girl. greta had presumed that if she had her own wedding in mind during her sister’s ceremony, she might have been able to get in the proper spirit. instead there was only a stink in her mind. it was a failure of divination, like bashing your head into a tv set and calling it channeling.
without the image of her future husband, greta could not participate in the wedding. besides, her sister had not given her a role, not even as flower girl. greta had presumed that if she had her own wedding in mind during her sister’s ceremony, she might have been able to get in the proper spirit. instead there was only a stink in her mind. it was a failure of divination, like bashing your head into a tv set and calling it channeling.
14.
greta went to the bathroom as the caterer demanded, but she did not want to wrap her little plastic gems in toilet paper and quietly flush them down the toilet. it felt wasteful. instead she sat on the toilet lid and pushed out as many rough slivers from under her eyelid as she could. when she stood in front of the mirror, gems now secure in her pockets, she could see how red and raw her eyes looked, especially the left. she felt fantastically pleased at this new color, and the rattling-dice sound the products of her body made inside her pockets.
greta went to the bathroom as the caterer demanded, but she did not want to wrap her little plastic gems in toilet paper and quietly flush them down the toilet. it felt wasteful. instead she sat on the toilet lid and pushed out as many rough slivers from under her eyelid as she could. when she stood in front of the mirror, gems now secure in her pockets, she could see how red and raw her eyes looked, especially the left. she felt fantastically pleased at this new color, and the rattling-dice sound the products of her body made inside her pockets.
15.
outside the bathroom window, she could see her brothers and the movers setting up chairs and flowers and finally the archway under which her sister would be wed.
outside the bathroom window, she could see her brothers and the movers setting up chairs and flowers and finally the archway under which her sister would be wed.
16.
greta took her plastic pieces and went outside.
greta took her plastic pieces and went outside.
17.
this is not melancholia. no one pees on the golf course. we see the ceremony. look at the bride in white. look at god. the moon is not coming. there is no alien blue light. at the dinner after the ceremony, everyone takes pictures together. everyone smiles; the bridesmaids drink too much and cry. it is a beautiful occasion. at the end of the night, each guest simultaneously eats a candied rose, stiff with sugar, which was left on their plate. everyone gets sick at the exact same time. then everyone dies.
this is not melancholia. no one pees on the golf course. we see the ceremony. look at the bride in white. look at god. the moon is not coming. there is no alien blue light. at the dinner after the ceremony, everyone takes pictures together. everyone smiles; the bridesmaids drink too much and cry. it is a beautiful occasion. at the end of the night, each guest simultaneously eats a candied rose, stiff with sugar, which was left on their plate. everyone gets sick at the exact same time. then everyone dies.
18.
what does greta do, who will not eat flowers? she does not die, per se. she is surrounded by 77 corpses, each face first on their plate.
what does greta do, who will not eat flowers? she does not die, per se. she is surrounded by 77 corpses, each face first on their plate.
19.
everyone eats a rose and dies. everyone eats a flower and dies.
everyone eats a rose and dies. everyone eats a flower and dies.
20.
after writing this, i look where to obtain sugared roses; how to make them. if the process is as difficult as encasing flowers in resin, which i have tried and failed at many times. i have wanted to keep roses and lilies encased in plastic for many years. i have wanted to make whole gardens of lucite. each time the flower dies. each time the resins leach into the petals and turn them mushy brown. it was suggested to me to use silk flowers as a replacement; an exchange to retain the flowers’ delicate shape. this will never do. regarding sugared flowers: — roses in particular are especially difficult to dip in sugar with any integrity. each recipe recommends removing the petals from the stem and dipping them individually in sugar, like the crassest slivers of potato.
after writing this, i look where to obtain sugared roses; how to make them. if the process is as difficult as encasing flowers in resin, which i have tried and failed at many times. i have wanted to keep roses and lilies encased in plastic for many years. i have wanted to make whole gardens of lucite. each time the flower dies. each time the resins leach into the petals and turn them mushy brown. it was suggested to me to use silk flowers as a replacement; an exchange to retain the flowers’ delicate shape. this will never do. regarding sugared flowers: — roses in particular are especially difficult to dip in sugar with any integrity. each recipe recommends removing the petals from the stem and dipping them individually in sugar, like the crassest slivers of potato.
21.
fields of sunflowers. just so many sunflowers. a dark invisible cloud. the wind moves. a dark singular eye. yellow like burning. all bile.
fields of sunflowers. just so many sunflowers. a dark invisible cloud. the wind moves. a dark singular eye. yellow like burning. all bile.
22.
the only choice is to solve a murder. the value of human life like the shape of plastic grocery bags, globular and shimmering in the blue of the sea.
the only choice is to solve a murder. the value of human life like the shape of plastic grocery bags, globular and shimmering in the blue of the sea.
23.
yes, one must solve a murder, lick a rock, expertly solve math equations. try driving a car. these are equivalents leaching into the material of our socks, the thin membrane that makes our skin separate from everything else.
yes, one must solve a murder, lick a rock, expertly solve math equations. try driving a car. these are equivalents leaching into the material of our socks, the thin membrane that makes our skin separate from everything else.
24.
who poisoned the roses. who poisoned the roses. i would love to know.
who poisoned the roses. who poisoned the roses. i would love to know.
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