Fucci Manulli - Water Of Gods And Heroes

By Seamus Muldoon, Himself
Copyright © 1997-2017
All Rights Reserved

Phallic water has arrived. I bet you never thought of phallic water. How can water be phallic? Think about it. A thing’s a phallic symbol if it’s longer than it’s wide. How long is your water? Where does it come from? From the spigot, right? God created the spigot so that we may have water and have it more abundantly. Tell that to the folks in Flint, Michigan.

Water is Baptismal. What about public swimming pools? Can you get baptized in public swimming pools? What do people living in deserts do about Baptism? They become Muslims. Most Muslims, like most other folks, are really fine people.

Would you bathe in an open sewer? Millions do. And it is a religious rite. Some water may not be as phallic as other water. What do rivers have regarding phallicity that oceans and most lakes do not? Are our public swimming pools more germ filled than almost any river or lake? Would you go swimming in my homeowners’ association community pool? I wouldn’t. I think of it as a unisex toilet.

What are the psychological reference points of water? Gestation? Birth? Purging of impurities? Symbology concerning anything possible that may creep into someone’s mind? The divine attribute of being an indispensable ingredient in wine and whiskey? Sexual frenzy – think sweating and gushing? Do circumcision or Baptism really do more for people than wine? Of course not.

Is it even possible to account for all the contexts in which water may be significant? If not, then isn’t it the most universal substance? It represents 70 % of earth’s surface and of human physical being. When God decided that people were so bad that She needed to destroy them and start over, She used water, and the only persons She saved were the vintner and his family. There is a great lesson in that – water destroys while wine enlightens and entertains. We men are more easily ordered about if we have enough wine. No woman should ever object about how much wine a man drinks. Water music? You didn’t know about water music? Google up Handel’s Water Music. Is all music water music? Drinking songs? “Oh His Name May Be Richard But They Call Him Whiskey Dick”.

Drink from your own cistern – does it mean that we should stay within our own culture and not seek out the intermixing of peoples? Does it mean that one should drink his own urine? A prime minister of India, Murarjee Desai thought so. Does every culture/religion have similar mandates in order to exercise mind control and for the wealth that mind control enables? In The Book of Judges, intermingling with people of other cultures is called whoredom. Is that arrogant enough for you. According to this tract, it is better to kill everybody from every other culture than to mingle amongst and marry them. Do dietary religious laws do anything other than segregate people of different belief systems? Any “concept” can be misused for toxic purposes.

Muldoon, will you please get to the fucking point? What point? Oh, yeah. Now I remember.

You see. Water questions are endless. Now, for your delectation, escape from stress, and the resolution of all doubt, we bring you FUCCI MENULLI water, the water of gods, heroes, saints and emperors.

FUCCI MENULLI (FM) water represents the normal commercial exploitation of fears and hubris. People don’t want to drink Flint water even if I doesn’t come from Flint. More and more, tests are revealing contaminants in municipal water systems, despite the fact that so much in chemical adulterant is used that all city water tastes like it came out of your swimming pool. Today, as I write this, the morning news is that carcinogens abound in the municipal drinking waters of many cities.

And so, some folks with a tad of snap came up with a Freudian configured container with “filtered” city tap water. Morons who don’t read labels pay really good prices to drink from a sexy bottle the same piss that comes through their tap. The more you patronize high volume businesses that provide “Free” water to their guests, the more they look for the cheapest bottled water source they can find. It has nothing to do with the water. It is the shape and label of the bottle.

Others care not a whit about water safety and only want to be seen with a bottle of water that the rich and famous drink.

The “finest” water comes, so they say, from a deep aquifer on the island of Fiji. Fiji islanders drink real piss, as their government spends little or nothing on infrastructure and their water is worse than swimming pool piss. But the world’s most incredibly fantastic supercalifragilistic fucking water is shipped overseas to be sold as Fiji water to the glitterati of the world. If you believe that water has properties that can make you into a fucking Viking warrior, you can drink really phallic bottled water from Scandinavia called VOSS (water to you fucking morons). The container can be used for months as a dildo. You could just refill it with tap water and keep using the container until the smell gives you away that you are masturbating with it.

Smart folks drink wine and whiskey, which are made primarily of water. They take longer to kill you than your city’s tap water. Your gene pool is no more fucked up than the lead contaminated hyper chlorinated factory outflow sludge that, slightly filtered, comes out of your tap. Wine does more than Milton can to justify life’s ways to man. Whiskey, taken in sufficient quantities, is an effective birth control mechanism not prohibited by any church. You don’t have to confess whiskey dick. It can also, with continuous use, help get that pussy taste out of your mouth.

FM water has decidedly Freudian implications. It is prismatic and does things to light like a mood ring on a schizophrenic. If one imposes a sheen of contaminants, the kaleidoscope effect is greatly enhanced. Toxic waste has its artistic dimension that few consider. We far too often condemn contaminated water just because it makes you sick or kills you, or fucks up your genetics/gene pool without ever considering those artistic dimensions that mean so little to the ill and dying, but so much to art museum glitterati. When a gold flushing toilet becomes a museum worthy exhibit in the Museum of Modern Art in NYC, as it has today, the envelope of the art universe is being pushed hard.

How long will it be before there is a total genre consisting of dirty water and things/colors/organisms/equipment associated with it? Pollution has morphed into art. Can one portray bad air in a similar manner?

A national museum of flatulence cannot be far behind. The golden flushing toilet is certainly its harbinger. Probiotic art will be the cry of the next generation of anal retentives. That purple feculum being peristaltically driven through the pink bowel advert that we now see on the television at dinner hour every evening will be the next Andy Warhol genre painting auctioned off at the great art auction houses of NY and London. With the addition of reality nuancing, the exhibit will certainly include odorification to make the artistic experience classically effective. Air quality being what it is today, that exhibit will offend no one.

Expect our physical beings to morph to accommodate the changes in how we relate to and use nature’s resources. We were all once sea creatures, say the specialists in evolution. Are we going back to the sea? Will radiation and chemical fertilizers cause us all to become RoundUp ready? Thank you, Monsanto. If we become truly radiation tolerant, will we be able to simply vaporize/irradiate what up to now have been called feces? And if so, why will we have further need for assholes (rectums). Non rectal assholes will always be with us. I suppose those who enjoy anal sex will just have to adjust. There will surely be some other contractible orifice to suit that use.

Does FM water have a limited future? Stay tuned.

Cold water is the best of drinks,

So all the poets sing.

But who am I that I should have

The best of everything?

Let the princes revel at the pump,

Peers at the pump make free,

But whiskey, beer or even wine

Are good enough for me.

By Seamus Muldoon, Himself
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Copyright © 1997-2017 All Rights Reserved