beautiful ideas that kill.

My greatest ambition-

Is not to find romantic love
Nor is it to fly a hot air balloon
Or to act in a Ingmar Bergman Film
Or be some sort of playwright or performance artist.

No, I am a humble woman with humble goals.

And my greatest ambition is to own an exquisite hot sauce collection.

And now I share with you an except from the OBERIU (The association of real art's" Manifesto. I stole the book in a moment of boldness from the library. (Don't tell)

Poetry of the Oberiuty

Who are we? And why do we exist? We, the Oberiuty are honest workers in art. WE are poets of a new world view and of a new art. We are not only creators of a poetic language, but also founders of a new feeling for life and it's objects. Our will is to create is universal. It spans all genres of art and penetrates life, grasping it from all sides. The world covered by the rubbish of the tongues of a multitude of fools bogged down in the mire of "experiences" and "emotions" is now being reborn in all the purity of concrete, bold forms. Some people even now call us zaumniki (made up word?). It is difficult to decide whether that is because of a complete misunderstanding or a hopeless failure to grasp the principles of literary art. No school is more hostile to us than zaum (made up word). We, people who are real and concrete to the marrow of our bones, are the first enemies of those who castrate the world and make it into a powerless and senseless mongrel. In our work we broaden the meaning of the object and of the world, but we do not destroy it in any way. The concrete object, once its literary and everyday skin is peeled away, becomes a property of art. In poetry the collisions of verbal meanings to express that object with the exactness of mechanical technology. Are you beginning to complain that it is not the same object you see in life? Come closer and touch it with your fingers. Look at it with naked eyes, and you will see it cleansed for the first time of decrepit literary gilding. Maybe you will insist that our subjects are "unreal" and "illogical"? But who said that the logic of life is compulsory in art? We marvel at the beauty of a painted woman despite the fact, contrary to anatomical logic, the artist twisted out the shoulder blade of his heroine and moved it sideways. Art has a logic of it's own and it does not destroy the object but help us to know it.

We broaden the meaning of the object, word, and act. This work proceeds in different directions; each of us has his own creative personality, and this often confuses people. They talk about an accidental association of various people. Evidently they assume that a literary school is something like a monastery in which the monks are all exactly alike. Our association is free and voluntary. It unites masters, not apprentices; artists-painters, not wall painters. Everybody knows himself and everybody knows what links him to others.

Heres to starting a modern collective of Oberiu! Who's with me?

When Kharms went to the theatre, he would paste on a fake mustache and say, "it is indecent for a man to go to the theatre with out one."