"I'm looking for a master who knows how to use me. Who knows how to delete my ego, who knows how to use the organic entity that Is me. I'm bored of false relationships, I'm not addicted to penetration, I'm looking for domination and exploration, I'm looking for the experimentation of consciousness modification through complete abandon. I like to be what I am, living flesh, meat alive"

The dismembered body of the slave (fe/male meat without gender) is the space of the other. The dismembered body is flesh dispossessed of the self, it is the object of torture in the Delicious Garden. It became the place of absence in the subject, the starting point to destroy and rewrite symbolic orders.

Actors of 'The Language' and 'Warriors of Sense' are experimenting with the body of language. They are searching for the signs that brand the body of language as an object owned by the biggest corporations; microsoft, uncle mac, nike and anti-allergy towels for the menstrual stream. I am seeing a body bridled, bound and captured by the net. I am looking at it through a mist of dream-dust, today-lust, every-day-heavy-smoggy-must, with the experimental awareness that Nothing is Real and Everything is Possible.

I am seeing a body moving on a PING launched in the net from Manila, Saigon, Toronto, Adelaide, to San Francisco. I saw this puppet movement, it was an Obscene, Boring, Dissonant Show. Imagine Stelarc during one of his shows, an old naked body moves in an awkward and repetitive manner. Repetition Is a form of change, pierced by metal connections and electrical workers, the body is twitching like a dead fish trapped in the net. It makes horror and is not the ARTIST but Is you and me. ART Is life that Is a cyborg pierced and enslaved by the pain of daily life.

It is the spring of an irresistible and destructive sensuality.

The body of the slave has no chance to be a virgin, the only chance is a never ending languishing sexual relationship with the artifact created by the will of man, destroyed by the disappearance of the subject just in the moment in which my hot passion reaches the hit and realizes that no man is god but it's me my God and it's Alive jesus motherfucking, it's Alive. When I realize that, I go deeper in self mutilation kissing the beast to become her, anyway the Beast is kissing me trying to create the distance of a wound between us, but I'm just an embodied look through the dismembered flesh and my body has no borders, me, the subject, has disappeared in the net, in the texture of the sense, I was becoming a function of The language. Slave of myself, I felt in love with the concrete through a praxis of creation of Temporary Erogenous Zones.

Sensuality, sexual desire without gender (which is the gender of the inorganic?), rewrites the symbolic orders through the tortured body, it is expanding its sensibility and its pleasure in the forbidden fields, it goes deeper into hidden desires to be the words that means them.

Like a coprofago, this dispossessed self is intoning a lyric for degenerating life-form due to its irreducible sensuality that is spreading out from the experience of the pain under the slavery of multinational wor(l)ds. "Living capital had withdrawn into the virtuality of cyberspace and this was the location where a real challenge to pan-capitalism needed to take place"

The Critical Art Ensemble focalized on two figures: The Body without Organs and the _Flesh Machine_. While the first "is a degree zero of undifferentiated productive energy and/or mass (...) and it takes many different forms, some are desirable and some are not", the second is the body engulfed by the machine, the dismembered flesh is becoming the machine itself, these are two faces of the same coin, one is the sign, it is the living symbol, the other is the function or the means "struggling against itself in a perpetual state of anarchistic creativity". Our vehicles lost themselves in their waste space while writing new memes on the flesh, Kali is behind them, during the Kali Yuga almost all our games are played with live ammunition.

Haven't you noticed?