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this thread has been my rock. the hunter biden photos just can't replace the piss tape thanks for the memories, ya'll. can't believe we got to see the piss tape together. it was a good run.
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Nov 4, 2020 21:32
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I don't believe these lies. What we saw was the real piss tape.
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Nov 15, 2020 09:52
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WaffleZombie posted:Okay, so we were worshiping a false idol. It was just a test of faith, because while this wasn't the real piss tape, I do not doubt for a second that the piss tape is real. um what the gently caress is this heretical poo poo can we kill this idiot heretic already or like what's our policy on that? edit: it's to kill them, right?
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Nov 17, 2020 00:10
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Pisstape Recognition by William Gibson: Part 1 Cayce’s first footage had been waiting for her as she’d emerged from the flooded all-genders toilet at a NoLiTa gallery party, that previous November. Wondering what she could do to sterilize the soles of her shoes, and reminding herself never to touch them again, she’d noticed two people huddled on either side of a third, a turtlenecked man with a portable DVD player, held before him in the way that crèche figures of the Three Kings hold their gifts. And passing these three she’d seen a face there, on the screen of his ciborium. She’d stopped without thinking and done that stupid duck dance, trying to better align retina to pixel. “What is that?” she’d asked. A sideways look from a girl with hooded eyes, a sharp and avian nose, round steel labret stud gleaming from beneath her lower lip. “Pisstape,” this one had said, and for Cayce it had started there. She’d left the gallery with the URL for a site that offered all of the footage accumulated to that point. Pisstape Recognition by William Gibson: Part 2 She concentrates on bubbles rising through her almost untouched Pils. Trying to remember everything she’s ever heard or Googled about Bigend’s origins, the rise of Blue Ant: the industrialist father in Brussels, summers in the family’s villa at Cannes, the archaic but well-connected British boarding school, Harvard, the foray into independent production in Hollywood, some sort of brief self-finding hiatus in Brazil, the emergence of Blue Ant, first in Europe, then in the UK and New York. The stuff of lifestyle pieces, many of which she’s read. And Margot’s experience, which Cayce had shared, secondhand but real time, all this having to dovetail now with the knowledge that Bigend is himself some sort of follower of the pisstape, for what reason she can only guess. Though she finds that she is starting to guess, and doesn’t like it. She looks up. “You think it’s worth a lot of money.” Bigend looks at her with absolute seriousness. “I don’t count things in money. I count them in excellence.” And somehow she believes him, though it’s no comfort. “Hubertus, what are you getting at? I’m contracted to Blue Ant to evaluate a logo design. Not to discuss the pisstape.” “We’re being social.” And that’s an order. “No we’re not. I’m not sure that you ever are.” Bigend smiles, then, a smile she hasn’t seen before, less teeth and perhaps more genuine. It is a smile she suspects is meant to indicate that she has made it across at least the first moat of his persona, has become to some extent an insider. That she knows a realer Bigend: lateral-thinking imp of the perverse, thirty-something boy genius, seeker after truth (or at least functionality) in the markets of this young century. This is the Bigend that invariably emerges in the articles, no doubt after he’s gotten to the journalist with this smile and his other tools. “I want you to find him.” “Him.” “The maker.” “ ‘Her’? ‘Them’?” “The maker. Whatever you need will be put at your disposal. You will not be working for Blue Ant. We will be partners.” “Why?” “Because I want to know. Don’t you?” Yes. “Have you considered that if we find ‘him,’ we might interrupt the process?” “We don’t have to tell her she’s been found, do we?” She starts to speak, then realizes she has no idea what she’s about to say. “Do you imagine that no one else is looking? Far more creativity, today, goes into the marketing of products than into the products themselves, athletic shoes or feature films. That is why I founded Blue Ant: that one simple recognition. In that regard alone, the pisstape is a work of proven genius.” edit: I'm not gonna be able to keep up with this but if you like William Gibson (you're a goon, you do, whether you know it or not) and you like the pisstape you owe it to yourself to read Pattern Recognition and ctrl+f + replace "the footage" with "the pisstape" IAMKOREA has issued a correction as of 19:09 on Nov 26, 2020 |
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Nov 26, 2020 18:47
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I'm making a cardboard and sharpie "save pisstape.org!" sign as we speak when's the meetup
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Nov 14, 2021 17:44
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