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Dada Excites Everything (and Other Psychic Provocations)

by Extreme Volume Pop

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First, I find it very unnatural to milk different cows into a single pail. You should milk different cows into different pails. Even like that it isn't really ideal, because I think it is completely contrary to general human morale for different people to drink milk from the same pail. You could remedy this by milking the same cow into different pails meant for different people. But then it's still very unnatural to milk a cow into a pail, or even (as it happens frequently these days) to bottle the milk. By its nature, milk should be either in the cow or in the veal's or human's stomach, but never in a bottle. On the other hand, given the rhythm of present life, it isn't easy for people living in big cities to run off the country when they want to drink milk, so that each of them can drink from the udder of his personal cow. On the other hand, because of space, it would be rather difficult to raise enough cows in cities. Consequently, there is only one solution hygienically irreproachable for the modern man, adapted to modern times and worthy of a cow: Let the cows graze tranquilly and peacefully in their pastures, with flexible rubber tubes attached to their udders and connected at the other end to subterranean conduits leading to the big cities, like those used for gas. It is essential that the conduits never communicate and that they be parallel. These conduits can be placed right in the buildings and come out into the room at some practical height. You can put a tasteful faucet there to close off the tube. You can place a nipple on this faucet whenever necessary. That way, whenever an owner of a cow is thirsty, he can milk his nipple. As you see, this is hygienically irreproachable, healthy, worthy of a cow, and harmless for general morals.
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The Cubists want to cover Dada with snow; it may surprise you, but it is so, they want to empty the snow out of their pipe on to Dada. Are you sure? Perfectly, the facts speak for themselves from great grotesque mouths. They think that Dada wants to stop them in their hateful trade: selling pictures at a high price. Art is dearer than sausages, dearer than women, dearer than anything. Art is as easy to see as God (see Saint-Sulpice). Art is a pharmaceutical product for idiots. Tables turn, thanks to the spirits; pictures and other works of art are like strong- box-tables, the spirit is within them and gets more and more inspired as the prices rise in the salerooms. Comedy, comedy, comedy, comedy, comedy, dear friends. Dealers do not like painting, they know about the hidden spirit…. Buy reproductions of signed pictures. Don’t be snobbish; having the same picture as your neighbour doesn’t make you any less intelligent. No more fly-specks on the walls. There will be some, all the same, but not quite so many. Dada will certainly get more and more hated, for its wire-cutters allow it to cut processions singing “Come Darling”, what a sacrilege! Cubism represents total famine in ideas. They cubed primitive paintings, cubed Negro sculptures, cubed violins, cubed guitars, cubed picture magazines, cubed shit and girls’ profiles and now they want to cube money!!! Dada, on the other hand, wants nothing, absolutely nothing, and what it does is to make the public say “We understand nothing, nothing, nothing”. “The Dadaists are nothing, nothing, nothing and they will surely succeed in nothing, nothing, nothing.” 391, No. 12, Paris, March 1920 Francis Picabia who knows nothing, nothing, nothing.
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Dada is our intensity: it sets up inconsequential bayonets the sumatran head of the german baby; Dada is life without carpet-slippers or parallels; it is for and against unity and definitely against the future; we are wise enough to know that our brains will become downy pillows that our anti-dogmatism is as exclusivist as a bureaucrat that we are not free yet shout freedom - A harsh necessity without discipline or morality and we spit on humanity. Dada remains within the European fram of weaknesses it's shit after all but from now on we mean to shit in assorted colors and bedeck the artistic zoo with the flags of every consulate We are circus directors whistling amid the winds of carnivals convents bawdy houses theaters realities sentiments restaurants HoHiHoHo Bang We declare that the auto is a sentiment which has coddled us long enough in its slow abstractions in ocean liners and noises and ideas. Nevertheless we externalize facility we seek the central essence and we are happy when we can hide it; we do not want everybody to understand this because it is the balcony of Dada, I assure you. From which you can hear the military marches and descend slicing the air like a seraph in a public bath to piss and comprehend the parable Dada is not madness - or wisdom - or irony take a good look at me kind bourgeois Art was a game of trinkets children collected words with a tinkling on the end then they went and shouted stanzas and they put a little doll's shoes on the stanza and the stanza turned into a queen to die a little and the queen turned into a wolverine and the children ran till they all turned green Then came the great Ambassadors of sentiment and exclaimed historically in chorus psychology psychology heehee Science Science Science vive la France we are not naive we are successive we are exclusive we are not simple and we are all quite able to discuss the intelligence. But we Dada are not of their opinion for art is not serious I assure you and if in exhibiting crime we learnedly say ventilator, it is to give you pleasure kind reader I love you so I swear I do adore you

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released March 1, 2021

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Extreme Volume Pop Indiana

Hopefully, my various musics are ultimately like magic bullets that enter and impact at the base of the skull, ricochet around the brain chamber, and then leave a gaping exit wound in the forehead. You may hate them


Since 2006!

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