What delightful postmodern delectations lie in the Open Sauce archives for the hipster-about-town to known about? Iconic cyborg and anti-artist lAs0ph1elle gives us the run-down …
Hi compadres.
I think we all know Open Sauce is absolutely where it’s at right now in terms of cyborgian écriture feminine for the 21st century: a post-Bakhtinian apocalypse of the festive space, a genderqueer meditation on the violence inherent in the act of inscription, and at the same time, a dance celebrating the dissolution of semiosis itself.
According to my Wordled representation of the most common lexical units deployed by Open Sauce’s multifarious and anonymous editors, the lexical field of the Open Sauce project in its entirety has been most fertile for what we all agree should be called verbs of affinity and desire – want, come, like, feel, kiss. We also find the term of sassy precision ‘just’, not to mention the name of the protagonist Julie (although the other character Nic is less prominent – oh well!). Other notably favoured components of the erotic textual assemblages evolving at the fabulous Radical X orgy online have shown themselves to be ‘crotch’, ‘cum’, ‘hands’, ‘ass’, ‘asshole’ and ‘body’. One might comment, perhaps, upon the absence of signifiers for ‘tits’ and ‘cunt’ or indeed facial features, references to the heart (so passé) or to love. One Open Sauce version contains a paragraph asking only: “Love is bullshit?” Not everyone thought so.
But subsuming the nom du père inherited from Messrs Mills and Boon in sufficient layers of semiotic carnival proved no mean feat – there was a lot of metonymising required, I can tell you that, darling!
Moving on past our little existentialist fright, we discover that we can discern the words ‘shivered’, ‘whispered’, ‘thrust’, ‘asked’, ‘cupped’, ‘gently’ and ‘burned’ lurking in the shadows of our cyborgian Wordle. Perhaps most interesting, however, is the lexis of temporality, delay, timing, completion and repetition: ‘waiting’, ‘time’, ‘repeat’, ‘slowly’, ‘day’, ‘pause’, ‘ever’, ‘never’, ‘long’, ‘sometimes’, ‘finish’, ‘leaving’, ‘took’, and ‘enough’. The prominence of these terms in the cloud of semiosis evokes a writerly subjectivity replete with rhythmic narrative awareness, poignant appreciation for the invaginated cycles of beginning and ending, suspenseful self-knowledge, and erotic ritual.
Lastly, the textual world of Open Sauce has repeatedly given birth to sentences including ‘furious’, ‘unhappily’, ‘empty’, ‘dark’, ‘go’ and ‘shy’ as well as ‘tender’, ‘pleasure’, ‘beautiful’, ‘wonderful’ and ‘found’: here is no straightforwardly saccharine, upbeat or vanilla concoction, therefore … but a veritable heterotopia populated equally by living dolls, uncertain or even traumatised sexual subjects, enthusiastic bitches, robots, persuadable sluts, and existential fuckers.
I hope that makes this clearer.
Byeeeeeeee!
