Ken Park

Ken Parkⁱ has it all. Specifically :

1. Teenager killing himself. With a gun. Blood splatter.

2. Little girl posing suggestively next to collection of suggestively posed dolls while screen displays lascivious acts.

3. Teenager eating out the breast-enhanced, domineering mother of his teenaged girlfriend.

They do this as a matter of course. They freely discuss the taste of the woman's daughter's vagina, her relationship with her husband and his cock size. And then, they cuddle.

4. Teenage bondageⁱⁱ, taking place in the house of a strict, devout christian man while he's off to the cemetery. Never to my knowledge has the pointless vapidity of "faith" been more stringently put on the spot. Russel comes close with his teapot, but this takes the cigar. Literally (the figurative cigar).

5. Teenage autoerotic asphyxiation, to the highly sexual yelps of Kournikova playing tennis.

This film doesn't simply break the imbecile taboo of showing male genitals. It goes one step further, which is to say all the way.

6. Involuntary blowjob applied on a sleeping boy by the boy's muscular own stepfather, who despises same boy for his apparent punknessⁱⁱⁱ and general skater faggotry.

7. Boy stabbing his asleep grandparents for the fault of being older than him, corroborated with the grandfather's earlier rebuffed claim of "sipi" being a scrabble word, and the grandmother's undepicted bitchiness. Her last words were that she loves the boy, and prominently displayed throughout the set is a crocheted imprecation for the reader to believe that grandmothers are love and nice things. Apparently this approach doesn't always work.

8. Deranged devout christian father marrying his own daughter who bears a striking resemblance to her own mother, his revered wife.

There's also kissing of the bride.

9. The virginal bride in question from the above point, also known as the whore of Babylon to her recent church spouse, engaging in a casual threesome with a couple of schoolmates. On the menu : double penetration as well as everything else. This looks a lot more like my youth, actually, and for that reason this film does a lot to restore my faith in the humanity of our subjects in the colonies. I was starting to seriously contemplate the chilling possibility that sanity simply never occurs over there, but now it seems a lot more likely that it does, just, they've got a weird fixation making them unable to discuss it, in writing, visually or otherwise.

I feel a great debt of gratitude to the people that made this film, therefore saving me the need to make it myself. Comparatively to this major landmark, the other ideal productions of North America pale into anonymity. Specifically included here is all the "leadership" taking place in congress by the congress' own estimation, various footage being shot all over Burbank, the meaningless drivel on the New York Times list and on it goes.

This matters, and this will remain. Most of everything everyone else's been doing over there in 2002 does not matter, and shan't remain. Bear this in mind.

1. 2002, by Larry Clark, Edward Lachman, with Tiffany Limos. [↩]
2. Isn't that satisfying to say three times fast ? You should see how satisfying it is to do, three times, slowly. [↩]
3. A punk, in case you didn't know, is a fag's cumrag. As in

   The punk rolled up his big blue eyes and said to the jocker, “Sandy,

   [↩]