GAY DEATH - RAINBOW SNUFF
Ugly, stripped, and relentlessly confrontational power electronics. RAINBOW SNUFF is a document of queer violence, deviant sex, and the rot beneath suburban innocence.
Illustration by Jinju Garlick.
"“Porn permanently alters brain tissue—”
How well do you remember your first exposure?
He’s tweaking too hard not to fuck— maybe on SSRIs and coke, and thankfully can’t get it up. The empty apartment is pitch-black. He doesn’t own any furniture. I hear him cravenly stroking his limpness on the mattress next to me. I’m too drunk and stoned to put up much of a fight anyway. I lay as still as possible as his body spazzes above mine.
Even cops can’t resist the invigorating refreshment of a glass cock. I stir things inside of you without even trying. Assassinate your patients. Ever the day draws closer. Borderline characters out-bitching every fag. Genetic disease. Waifish boys into fake men. Why are tensions so high in the home?
The first thing you remember is the shit smell. If you actually enjoy it, it permanently imprints itself on you. The initiative entry gouges the festering slit. Forever shit-smeared vaseline-lense memories. Every time you smell shit you think of good sloppy anal. As a gay man, at the very least I can appreciate the camp of it all. I fantasize dramatic orchestrals soaring over the whole scene. In due time the entire place would become so wretchedly disgusting that I wouldn’t be able to differentiate.
The 28 Wounds of Blaze Bernstein. I always knew I’d die violently— in terror. I always thought it’d be in his apartment. He’d fold my gray limbs inside a cardboard box so he could sneak downstairs and dump them into the Spreekanal. Never once did I think it’d be foaming on the floor of a bathhouse in Berlin— ODing on GHB.
RAINBOW SNUFF is a bildungsroman for the conventional white gay American male— a thorough examination of the politics of desirability and acceptance.
RAINBOW SNUFF — AVAILABLE DIGITALLY OR ON CASSETTE FROM DEATHBED TAPES — FRIDAY, MAY 2 —