THE SAGA

Q.: I admire the gesture but wish there was more to it than the usual academic intrigue. If you ever were
real behind your indecent shadows. I can call you Charlotte but what difference it makes? You’ll
never be my colloquial girlfriend. New pseudonym of the same morose misanthrope. He wanna be a
true-to-life woman now, to fulfill his spurious agenda of counterfeit transmogrification. After the
long and slow stride of geo-genetic treasons, he’s up to change his gender identity at last. Processing his
suicide by the book of the living. Everything you do is for your biography solely. Nothing for the joy of it.
A.: I am a spiritual acrobat, Gina. I am balancing the fall magnanimously. At least I have learned who I’d
like to be. A French woman from the Nineteenth century. The choice was very elaborate. Nonchalantly
ignoring all factors of impossibility. I might be wrong but am doing the right thing. Dead time’s on my
side. Charlotte is not female impersonation. She is a fourth gender. Archetype of the fascist woman.
Q.: Hallelujah, here she comes! The new Minerva. The ultimate avatar of retaliation. Truly a mind-
boggling stratagem, but are you up to her? You aren’t up to a dignified bum! You only could turn your
sex into a bag lady. You dispossess the Wish and that’s where the Saga ends.
A.: Charlotte is not another alter ego. She is my twin sister. The soul I never had. My saving grace.
Q.: You don’t know what transgender is, baby toy. Just copying it like a cat. You’re not even gay. Your
fantasy peters out at fetish porn. You have no drive or motive. Legally asexual as opposed to bi.
A total neither-neither. Blue make-up won’t conceal your impotence. Attraction is inconceivable.
A.: Charlotte isn’t a transvestite. Her sex is individually customized. I am not influenced by pronouns.
She’s got nothing to do with the androgyne principle.
Q.: Easier said than done, little sister. Especially without cash for lingerie. As long as you can’t afford to
cross-dress, don’t even dream about eligibility for a name change.
A.: Even if I’m refused, the stigmata has been implanted. Charlotte is born by this application, and
nothing shall stop her. Get ready to witness my nuclear reincarnation.
Q.: Don’t be ridiculous. If you ever wanted to wear women’s clothes could have used my stuff. You are
pushed hard but aren’t attracted by your target. Eros is a cold medium in your godless heart. If you
were really moved you’d create her from trash. You are a theoretical girl, Charlotte. An absolute turn-off.
A.: I am a passive verb in a perennial conditional tense. The Word as a captive. A grammatical legend.
Neutral by rebirth.
Q.: To embellish metareality (!) is your most cherished virtue. May I remind you about our marital status
for an awkward moment? You haven’t fucked me for a duodecade by now. Nor anyone else for that
matter. Your libido is dead as a doornail. Could as well look for love amongst the dead.
A.: You don’t have to mutilate your crotch to be pansexual. It’s much more Platonic than that. Ugly
Narcissus don’t look in the mirror. Charlotte is not reflection. I am inviting her to be my
dominatrix. We’ll see who is stronger. Let the duel begin.

Q.: I appreciate your valiancy but don’t believe it will work out. Your need isn’t primal. Won’t have
priority amongst graver cases. That you loathe your origins is a personal psychosis of no
collective implication. Your argument sounds like a lunatic farce. Or a tasteless joke. Or outright
insult. Written in the form of a lettrist poem, what’s more. Mon Dieu, Charlotte! Will you ever be here?
A.: My application isn’t sexually oriented. It is a purely aesthethical (!) entreaty to the biosocial order. An
embittered emigrant’s humble request to his local authorities. I wrote it to Pierre Trudeau on my mind.
It can’t be overlooked as unhinged provocation.
Q.: I’m afraid it can. Your hoydenish lamentation of misplacement is truly ingenuine. And a quite typical
syndrome of autotheism. No one will empathize with your mental alienation.
A.: I’d like to put a period after the sentence of absolution. Open the next line with a definite article. Just
fifty years ago I could have been deported for this demand or closed in an asylum. Osh willing things
have changed for the death of the West. I’m brazenly profiting from the neo-liberal takeover. Charlotte
is to demonstrate the grotesque fall of patriarchy. She’s your clumsy Hausfrau. That’s the way she
wants to serve. A femininist heroine.
Q.: Anything you say, Spiel! Charlotte is a beauty in a cage. Your bony M. You should forcibly liberate her
from the chromosomic execration. She must become your medium within. You only can be if wanna be
her.
A.: I’m not unaware of the grandeur of the task. I’m terrified of it. Charlotte is my Belphegor. The
phantom of the operetta. The role of my life for the rest of the play. The single image of my apocryphal
remembrance. The host of my ghost. I’ll betray everything for her, I promise. This plan is the ne plus
ultra of my feats of arms. It will transform the entire dynamics of our propaganda campaign. Charlotte
is reproduced to become the mouthpiece of the movement. The Siren of the Salute. I’m not doing this
for fashion’s sake. I’m doing it for the Party.
Q.: You’re doing it for your own disaffected self. Le Parti c’est Toi! Just to prove the universality of the
world’s most forgotten refugee.The federal bureau won’t like you picking a French nomicon on the top
of all that fuss. Why should they assist a potential separatist? Your plea will go back burner if not right
in the dustbin. And you’ll remain a beast beyond redemption.
A.: I could evenly clear up that issue if interviewed about it. I am an overnationalist, the first of its kind.
It’s all about the culture in a globalitarian perspective. I’d apply for the same nomen wheresoever located.
Q.: You are like a homeless snake. Nobody will believe a word coming out of your mouthpiece. Let alone
understand. You’ll end up on the FBI’s most wanted list.
A.: My basic intent is to correct the Purgatory’s outdated paradigm. To break the spell of the Zodiac. Defeat
polarity at its core. Declare the Aurora of the Atheist renovation.
Q.: You are fighting for a right only you do miss like a cosmic gambler. An allegory of the never-been.
Everybody loves his tongue more than his mother. Your mystic yearning won’t strike a chord with
legislative bureaucrats.
A.: I am a warrior of subjectivism, setting an irrevocable example of positivist independence. Not an
irredentist rebel but the main enemy at the gate. Not an exemption but the new rule.

Q.: You’ll have to cultivate extreme docility with this critical metamorphosis. Charlotte is not a costume you’d
wear on occasion. If you can’t submit to her unconditionally, she’ll murder both of you without mercy.
She is a creature born out of despair. You must master to love her more than you hate yourself. I can keep
supporting you till the end but only she can give you will, no matter what they say.
A.: I can see the picture in its full glory. Charlotte is the public image of the Elitarian counterrevolution. The
adumbrative paragon of overnazi propaganda. The appropriate bait for alternative fish. I’m gonna turn
her into a Liebling of the media. A statue of liberty.
Q.: Not so fast, however. You’re still too masculine any effeminated. Charlotte won’t be your cash cow. No
intellectual simulation can substitute for natural exotica. Tabloids won’t be running your extravagant
ideology. The spectre of individual-socialism has no room to haunt in a racialist evolution. The system is
not a rock’n’roll empire as you were hoodwinked to think behind your iron curtain. It is high time for a
rude awakening from the organic nightmare.
A.: I never intended to be ahead of my time. I’ve only been following it closely. I know when the clock strikes.
This is my twelfth hour. The Gate of the Ring. Charlotte is my wedding present. Someone to fall in love
with. The Antihitler. The lie of lies that’ll set me free.
Q.: You can’t go out to parade with a wig, disappointed leader of the solitary. It’s all closed in the closet.
Your lonely strife is the baneful gratification of a retarded eccentric. Moreover, you are an unprotected
stranger with a police record. No one could bail you out if immured for hate speech.
A.: I am a DIY clone. My mind is disintegrating but my intelligence is artificial. Charlotte will open me the
space of discontinuum. So help me Osh.
Q.: Proper robots will do it better. Only science can make people equal. You’re nothing but the last human
being. Lost shepherd out of wedlock. No cause for celebration.
A.: I am prone to set an unfollowable example. You’re face to face with the man who killed his ego.
Q.: There is no market for your audacious story in the commonwealth of nations. No linguistic manipulation
shall even up to the impact of a scandal. Something you’re incapacitated to generate.
A.: Isn’t it the strangest thing you’ve ever seen? I’ve never said anything uncontroversial. I’m ready for the
rapture since 1972. Only need to be heard.
Q.: The chosen few of Planet X are eagerly awaiting the electoral speech of Charlotte Bonaparte. Dress
yourself my urchin one.
A.: Your Socratic irony is most supererogatory. I’m taking this resolution very seriously. Every transition
leads back down to the crucified vampire. Charlotte is Dracula’s daughter. She’ll live forever.

Q.: I’m sincerely trying to see our future but the crystal ball is blank. To be funny is not enough to decoy an
apathetic bride. You have to give the people more than cheap allusions for their sacrificed money. Any
dirty you may speak, it won’t effect without the innate obscenity of an amatory candidate. Exhibitionism
has never been your forte. Your shy like a virgin but aggressive like a repenting sinner. Imitation has its
limitation. The great reset won’t work without Mephisto’s blessing.
A.: Charlotte is not a sex object. Not another lesbian male of altered genome. She is the last judgement on
feminism. An effigy of the mutant class. The unnatural supremacy.
Q.: Beware of the tonality, fake suitor! Charlotte would never talk like that. She is not your press secretary.
A.: Charlotte is my terminal mask that will never fall. Encompassing all of my preceding characters. She
ought to be The Diva of the Putsch. She will do the yellow outside my red flesh. She’s got to be a woman.
In the likeness of None.
Q.: Any keenly you crave to, one cannot alter the statistical facts. Even this revolutionary document you
had to fill and sign by the very name you’re dying to get rid of. As you were born so you’ll have to die.
What transpired meanwhile shall remain in parentheses.
A.: That is a truth I strongly disagree with. I want my next Medicard issued on my new cognomen. One is the
image he’ll leave behind. Fuck the Data!
Q.: You cannot obliterate what you deny. Just engrave it deeper. You have to be from somewhere or else
you’re an amnesiac. It can’t be simulated. Everyone who knows you knows what a pretentious bigot you
are. Vainly you negate the line of blood, they’ll catch you at the cheat. Besides it is your sole authentic
reference. The birthplace of SPIONS. Your entire life-trip has no sense without it. The dilemma is way
too huge for a drifting wastrel. The tribe you’re poised to stab in the back has put its spell on you. You are
trapped by the past and can’t walk out. Disloyalty got ya.
A.: Verily I tell unto you, I don’t give a shit any more. I’m not interested to solve disgusting riddles. I only can
live as long as I survive. That’s all the wisdom I picked up by the process. Ideals have I none. I’ve given in
to the reign of instincts. No longer afraid of discrepancy.
Q.: You have given in to the temptation of nihil. Can’t you see they’re spurring you to the epicenter of chaos?
The most you ever could become is a laughing stock. No one will avow you being a self-made extra-
terrestrial with your gawky accent. It’s not even French. Nor German as you used to pretend to be.
A.: Charlotte will rise above the visions of the Bardo. Her sword of humor will hold the adversary at bay.
Q.: Another major obstacle is your biological age. Something you cannot so fluently falsify. Will your new
gender come out with the same birth certificate as your old dickhead? Well in her menopause? The
Author is writing a horror story. You’d better be extremely careful.
A.: My entire fortune is at the hand of the registrar. I wouldn’t undergo surgery for my principles. All I
want is to buy a better aura for a handful of dollars. If I had it on paper I wouldn’t forget who I am. My
reverse exodus is an American Roulette. Charlotte is my undercover agent. An open Spioness of militant
purification. The Bonaparte in me.

No Title
No Title
“NOTRE DAME”
(THE TWELVE GATES)
2021.9
2021/10
2021/5
2021/6
2021/7
2021/8
2022 06 17
888 BEGS
888 BEGS
888 BEGS
888 BEGS
888 FLAGS
888 FLAGS
888 SPEAKS
888 SPEAKS
888 WORKSHIPs
888 WORKSHIPS
888 WORKSHIPS
888 WORKSHIPS
888 WORKSHIPS
888 WORKSHIPS LIVE
AMEN & ALEPH
AMEN & ALEPH
BACK
BACK
BALLYHOO
BEGGAR’S CABARET
BEHIND THE VEIL
BEHIND THE VEIL EXTENDED
BELIAL
BELIAL CALENDAR – 2021 AD
BELPHEGOR
BITCH
BITCH
BITCH
BITCH
BLACK FACES
BLUME FUR DRACULA
BLUME FUR DRACULA
BRAVERY IN THUNDERBOLT
C
C
CERTIFICATE
CHARECTER
CHARLOTTE’s TEN COMMANDOS
CHRONICLES
CI
CI
CII
CII
CIII
CIII
CIV
CIV
CIX
CIX
CL
CL
CLI
CLI
CLI
CLI
CLI
CLII
CLII
CLIII
CLIII
CLIPS
CLIPS
CLIPS
CLIV
CLIV
COLLAGE
COLOPHON
COLOR POWER
COLOR POWER
COLOR POWER
CONCLUSION SILENT
CONCLUSION TALKING
CONTENTS
COVID-888
Covid-888
Covid-888
CREDIT CARD
CREDO
CREDO!
CREDO!
CV
CV
CVI
CVI
CVII
CVII
CVIII
CVIII
CX
CX
CXI
CXI
CXII
CXII
CXIII
CXIII
CXIV
CXIV
CXIX
CXIX
CXL
CXL
CXLI
CXLI
CXLII
CXLII
CXLIII
CXLIII
CXLIV
CXLIV
CXLIX
CXLIX
CXLV
CXLV
CXLVI
CXLVI
CXLVII
CXLVII
CXLVIII
CXLVIII
CXV
CXV
CXVI
CXVI
CXVII
CXVII
CXVIII
CXVIII
CXX
CXX
CXXI
CXXI
CXXII
CXXII
CXXIII
CXXIII
CXXIV
CXXIV
CXXIX
CXXIX
CXXV
CXXV
CXXVII
CXXVII
CXXVIII
CXXVIII
CXXVIII
CXXX
CXXX
CXXXI
CXXXI
CXXXII
CXXXII
CXXXIII
CXXXIII
CXXXIV
CXXXIV
CXXXIX
CXXXIX
CXXXV
CXXXV
CXXXVI
CXXXVI
CXXXVII
CXXXVII
CXXXVIII
CXXXVIII
DISCIPLINE
EPILOGUE
EPISTLE TO GHISLAINE MAXWELL
EPITAPH
EPITAPH
EPITAPH
EPITAPH
EPITAPH NEW
FRONT
GINA’s HEROES
GINA’s OBITUARY
HAPPY HANNUKAH
HATE IN SNOWSTORM
HATE IN SNOWSTORM
HYPE
I
I
IDW
idw
II
II
III
III
IN ANDY WARHOL’S FACTORY
INSIDE < = > OUTSIDE
INSIDE <=> OUTSIDE
INSIDE <=> OUTSIDE
INTERV
INTERVIEW
INTERVIEWS
IV
IV
IX
IX
JANINE GOES TO WORK
JANINE GOES TO WORK
JANINE ON FILM
JRTF
LI
LI
LII
LII
LIII
LIII
LITTLE WONDER
LITTLE WONDER
LIV
LIV
LUPUS DEI
LV
LV
LVI
LVI
LVII
LVII
LVIII
LVIII
LX
LX
LXI
LXI
LXII
LXII
LXIV
LXIV
LXIX
LXIX
LXV
LXV
LXVI
LXVI
LXVII
LXVII
LXVIII
LXVIII
LXXI
LXXI
LXXII
LXXIII
LXXIII
LXXIV
LXXIV
LXXIX
LXXIX
LXXV
LXXV
LXXVI
LXXVI
LXXVII
LXXVII
LXXVIII
LXXVIII
LXXX
LXXX
LXXXI
LXXXI
LXXXII
LXXXII
LXXXIII
LXXXIII
LXXXIV
LXXXIV
LXXXIV
LXXXIX
LXXXIX
LXXXV
LXXXV
LXXXVI
LXXXVI
LXXXVII
LXXXVII
LXXXVIII
LXXXVIII
LYING COURSE
LYING COURSE
LYING COURSE
LYING COURSE
LYING COURSE
LYING COURSE
MARCHANT
MEMORABILIA
MIKI & THE WHIP
MITZPAH
MITZPAH
MITZPAH
MODUS VIVENDI
MONITORY
MONTREAL SPRING
MONTREAL SPRING
MONTREAL SPRING
MONTREAL SPRING
MONTREAL SPRING
MONTREAL SPRING
MORGENROT
MORGENROT
MUSIC VIDEOS
NAIL ART
NAIL ART
NAIL ART IDW
NUMBERS
OBEDIENCE IN DOWNPOUR
OBEDIENCE IN SNOWSTORM
OBEDIENCE IN SNOWSTORM
ORDER IN FLOOD
ORDER IN FLOOD
OVERVIEW
PASSOVER ’97
PASSOVER ’97
PERFORMANCY
PERFORMANCY
PERFORMANCY
PERFORMANCY
PETITION.
PETITION.
pettiton
PHOTOMONTAGE
PHOTOMONTAGE
POSTCARD 2 TRUMP
POSTCARD 2 TRUMP
PR
PROJECTION
PROMOTORY
PROMOTORY
REPRODUCTIONS
SCHOLIUM
SEX INDUSTRIA
SEX INDUSTRIA
SEX INDUSTRIA
SEX INDUSTRIA
SEX INDUSTRIA IDW
SEXINDUSTRIA POD
SINCERITY IN FLOOD
SINCERITY IN FOG
SLIDESHOW
Song No. 12
Song No. 15
Song No. 9
STATS
STUCK
STUCK
SUMMER OF RETURN
SYMBOL MARKET
THE ANTITHESIS
THE ANTITHESIS
THE ANTITHESIS
THE ANTITHESIS
THE ANTITHESIS
THE ATHEIST DIVINATION 1
THE ATHEIST DIVINATION 2
THE ATHEIST DIVINATION 2 – SAMPLE
THE ATHEIST DIVINATION ONE
THE ATHEIST DIVINATION TW
THE AUCTIONARY
THE AUCTIONARY
THE BIG BAN
THE BIG BAN
THE BIG BAN
THE BIRTHDAY BASH
THE CENSORIUM
THE CENSORIUM
THE COMBINATIONS
THE COSMIC BARGAIN
THE COSMIC BARGAIN
THE COSMIC BARGAIN
THE COSMIC BARGAIN
THE EIGHTH HOUR
THE FILE
THE FIRST BREAKFAST
THE FLAGSHIP
THE FLAGSHIP
THE FLAGSHIP
THE FOLIO
THE FOUR VIEWS
THE GOSPEL
THE GREAT SYZYGY
THE GREAT SYZYGY
THE GREAT SYZYGY
THE GREAT SYZYGY
THE HIT
THE HIT
THE HIT
THE HIT
THE HOWLING ONE
THE HOWLING ONE
THE IDUNNO WHAT
THE IDUNNO WOT
THE LAST ENCOUNTER
THE LAST ENCOUNTER
THE LAST THING YOU SHOULD DO
THE LAST THING YOU SHOULD DO
THE MART
THE OSHIST BREATHING
THE OSHIST BREATHING
THE OSHIST BREATHING
THE PERFUMAREA
THE PERFUMAREA
THE PERFUMAREA
THE PLAUSIBILITY CRYSTAL
THE SAGA
THE SAGA
THE SALUTE
THE SALUTE
THE SALUTE
THE SYMBOL MARKET
THE SYMBOL MARKET
THE TANTRUM
THE TEN COMMANDOS
the three pillars
THE TRYPTICH
THE TWELVE KEYS
THE UKRAINE
THE UKRAINE
THE UKRAINE
THE VERDICT
THE VERDICT
TIP TWELVE
TITLE
TRACKLIST
TRIVIA?
TRIVIA?
TRIVIA?
TRIVIA?
UNITED
UNITED
UR MODELS
UR MODELS
UR MODELS
UR MODELS
V
V
VI
VI
VII
VII
WHITE POWER
WORKSHIPS CXXXVIII
X
X
XCI
XCI
XCII
XCII
XCIII
XCIII
XCIV
XCIV
XCIX
XCIX
XCV
XCV
XCVI
XCVI
XCVII
XCVII
XCVIII
XCVIII
XII
XII
XIII
XIII
XIV
XIV
XIX
XIX
XL
XL
XLI
XLI
XLII
XLII
XLIV
XLIV
XLIX
XLIX
XLVI
XLVI
XLVII
XLVII
XVII
XVII
XX
XX
XXI
XXII
XXII
XXIII
XXIII
XXIV
XXIV
XXIX
XXIX
XXV
XXV
XXVII
XXVII
XXVIII
XXVIII
XXX
XXX
XXXI
XXXI
XXXIII
XXXIII
XXXIV
XXXIV
XXXIX
XXXIX
XXXVI
XXXVI
XXXVII
XXXVII
XXXVIII
XXXVIII

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