by Evelyn Wh-ell
This man I can see that nothing is going on with this man he is not doing anything except being here so that nothing else can be here which is significant enough and because also
he is speaking
stamped by two purple/pink lines of text above the left nipple the top line bowed over the bottom as foreshadowing and
I can see he has a thick silver chain on but nothing else or maybe trousers I cannot see them and this chain is resting on his neck which is bulging with tendons having been turned to the left and it is the gravity of this chain also which makes it plain he is lying down for it would fall on his front if he were standing up or sitting down but is falling off to the side because he is lying
and I can see his skin has stretched across the underneath the way it does when you lie down and there is tension because you have pulled your spine out to the horizontal (and he has stretched his arm out also) and there are small slopes of bone curving in his chest onto which light falls and catches on the skin
which is white apart from the chain the tattoo the thin black hairs which lie flat against the chest and loop over the dark brown nipple disc just there with gentle precision against the flatness of his chest
stretched out and I cannot see his face
his face is turned to the side I can see his chin is tilted to the left so his ear touches the bed which is also not visible
his face is turned away and he is just like a man, generic, heat but nothing else
like a dog a member
like a fresh catch cod flesh just laying there the pink curve of his bottom lip twisted neck
Something is about to twist on I can feel it I can feel it I can feel it in the back, the back
of my knees
like an involuntary twitch of the wrist.
but before this the camera tracks before his eyes, and you should be able to see it in his eyes, it’s reflection but they are shut, his eyes, because this man is dead (not really)
and I know this and I know this man because he is the author of this text (which is why he is here)
no but back to the twist, the pre-twist
Movement comes from the hips: hold still!
and they are holding:
these two men, or young men, or boys, are holding each other, in hold holding the correct frame (it’s a dance or about to be)
and we see one elbow, and we see two pockets and we don’t see beneath
there are no pricks in this film there are billy clubs and police batons but no pricks in this film
in this film Dandy longs for a prick or something like that which can hurt his mother really stick it to her you know? And what is Dandy to do, his envy is stock stuff, it would be in this text if he was here or not. But he and his friend don’t have a prick so they have to go in search of one, this is the driving force here. It is the reason we have anything to look at all.
You have to keep changing in this film, that’s what I am learning, no one is the same even if people call them by the same name or they are in the same clothes (although sometimes these change too)
–– it could be one long bender, that has occurred to me, yes I did think and I might have even said ‘we’re being taken for a ride’ which is at some points more or less accurate seeing as they have cars in this universe too
these cars are pretty functional, they drive the plot from point a to point b, just basic carriers, escorts of the narrative, but they do represent the force of the state or the omnipotence of the institution or the narrator who can see where this is all going. They might even be police cars, I cannot remember, maybe they had sirens, any way it does not really matter if they were police cars or not since you have no choice in the matter you have to buckle up
and these two figures in clothes like boys, well these well-dressed boys hold the other against this kind of scrutiny because they are just passing through this narrative, like messengers or road signs, or passing behind this narrative, like decoration
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the two men, these James Dean hermaphrodites, here were born into this narrative everything about each others’ pre-history will only occur here in the dialogue and it may or may not refer to something that happened in the world and certainly will not refer to something that happened outside of it
one was here already, it was his story, but the other one just appeared, came through that door from nothing, the outside
there was a car but only mentioned
'cocks away, after the big screen' is an investigation into textual translations of cinematic form and visual genres post-internet. The work explores 'plot twists' as embodied movements, the surreal horror of spectator passivity, narrative dead-ends, and making impotent the 'reveal' of the porno, as ways to communicate the worms and wormholes of trans existence.
Evelyn Wh-ell is a researcher and writer, currently studying for a PhD in queer and trans artists’ moving image, with an interest in the politics of visibility and the aesthetics of risk. Their critical and creative writing has appeared in Another Gaze, FDBN…Publications, b l u s h lit, and Cambridge Literary Review. They host ‘The Disenfranchised Things Talk Show’ on No Bounds Radio.
Evelyn can be found on twitter and instagram at @evelynwh_ell