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Posts Tagged ‘Peter Sotos’

Pisces, Peter Sotos, with an introduction by Dr Miriam B. Stimbers (TransVisceral Books 2017)

March 2016. Anglo-American academic Miriam Stimbers leaves her apartment in St Louis to attend an ’80s nostalgia concert at a local rock-arena. Behind her, she leaves transgressive author Peter Sotos to fish-sit her prized tank of tropical fish. Four hours later, Stimbers returns to her apartment to discover the tank empty and Sotos lying unconscious on the floor.

When he revives, Sotos describes how, minutes after Stimbers’ departure, the apartment was invaded by a masked gang.

He remembers trying to fight them off.

Then it all went black…

Pisces is a detailed examination of that fateful March day and its continuing repercussions. It is a true-crime book like no other, written from the inside by a no-holds-barred author who has been at the heart of events right from the beginning. As Dr Stimbers writes in her introduction:

Peter was a rock throughout the preliminary bewilderment-and-grieving process. It was truly a great comfort when he told me that, despite the brief time he knew my fish, he felt that he and the eighty-six of them had forged a genuine and permanent bond. Furthermore, despite the brutal assault to which he was subjected and the stress-induced hiccups he suffered for two days after the fish-napping, Peter barely left my side for the rest of the month, helping me to process my initial shock and horror and trying to assist the police investigation in any way he could. He also came up with the most plausible theory as to the gang’s identity. No trace of any break-in could be discovered, nor, despite detailed examination of multiple CCTV-feeds, was it possible to identify any strangers entering or leaving the apartment-block during the relevant time-period. But, while the gang was in the apartment, they re-arranged my bookshelves and anonymously purchased me a gift-subscription to the Journal of Forensic Entomology.

Peter’s suggestion?

“They must have been ninja librarians, Miri,” he said.

I concur. It’s the only explanation that fits all the facts. (Introduction, pg. ix)

But why would ninja librarians fish-nap a set of tropical fish? Where have they taken their piscine prizes? When will they issue a ransom demand? These questions continue to haunt all those involved in this unique tragedy. Pisces examines each aspect of the case from every conceivable angle and will only serve to trans-toxify Sotos’s rebarbative renown as an edgily incendiary archaeologist of the most photophobic furlongs of the counter-cultural complexus.


Previously pre-posted on Papyrocentric Performativity:

K-9 Konundrum — review of Dog by Peter Sotos
Toxic Twosome — review of Doll by Peter Sotos and James Havoc


Forthcoming Fetidity from TransVisceral Books…

Stiff for Stiffs: Kandid Konfessions of a Korpse-Kopulator, דוד קרקשׁ
Slime-Sniffer: The Norman Nekrophile Story, Nicolae Feralescu
Pay to Slay: The Toxic True Tale of the Mersey Murder-Machine, Dr Samuel P. Salatta

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Tip-Top Transgressive Texts for Toxicotropic Tenebrowsers…

Naked Lunch, William S. Burroughs (Olympia Press 1964)

Not so much a book as the detonation of a black-and-bloated thermo-nuclear device directly beneath the foundations of sanity, society and any notion at all of literary convention and aesthetic restraint.


Re-Light My Führer: Nausea, Noxiousness and Neo-Nazism in the Music of Take That, 1986-2012, Dr Miriam B. Stimbers (University of Nebraska Press 2013)

Psychoanalytic scholarship sets sail for the septic centre of societal psychosis.


Thighway to Mel: Six Years, Eleven Months and Eighteen Days as a Terrified, Traumatized and Tearful Toy-Boy Tonguing the Tepid and Toxic Tvotzke of Top Social Conservative Melanie Phillips, Stewart Home (Serpent’s Tail 2008)

What can I say? Home’s masterpiece. You’ll think as you retch as you cry with laughter.


Basted in the Broth of Billions, David Britton (Savoy Books 2004)

Savoy are England’s loudest publishers. Basted is their loudest book. Right from the opening scene, in which Lord Horror dispatches Martin Amis and Will Self on a one-way trip up each other’s rectums, Britton keeps the volume turned remorselessly to 11.


Killing for Culture: Death on Film and the Sizzle of Snuff…, David Kerekes and David Slater (Visceral Visions 1992)

So feral it’s fetid… so fetid it’s frightening… Kerekes and Slater are ordinary blokes with an extraordinary ability to sniff out the sizzle of snuff…


Encyclopedia Psychopathica: Top Tips, Tactics and Targeting Techniques for Successful Serial Slayers, Sam Salatta (Visceral Visions 2013)

Gulp. This guy is… disturbing… And then some…


Buncha-Puncha: Colombian Telenovela Madness and the Unravelling of an Inter-Continental Crime Conspiracy, Henry Zacharias (Visceral Visions 2014)

Coke-stoked, speed-gee’d, crank-spanked, hash-smashed, er, junk-clunked… Henry Zacharias writes like Hunter S. Thompson woulda if he coulda


Bent for the Rent: Blowjobs, Buggery and Batty-Boy Bonding in the Backstreet Bum-Bandit Brothels of Brighton, Bangkok and Barcelona, James Havoc and David Slater (with an incendiary introduction by David Kerekes) (TransVisceral Books 2014)

Two trangressive titans textualize the toxic traumas and teratotropic terrors of their teen years working as rent-boys in three of the world’s sleaziest, scuzziest and sordidest cities…


Dong, Peter Sotos and Sam Salatta (TransVisceral Books, forthcoming)

Due to be published soon. Or will God step in first…?


Killers for Culture: The Book of the Band of the Book, David Kerekes and David Slater (Visceral Visions 2014)

When Kerekes and Slater formed a band to promote their seminal snuff-study Killing for Culture, they couldn’t foresee what lay ahead. If they hadda, they’d’ve run screaming for their lives…

Sample MP3s

1. “Kaught with a Korpse” (Kerekes/Slater)
2. “Down in the Mortuary (at Midnight)” (Kerekes/Slater)
3. “I Wanna Hold Your Foot” (Kerekes/Slater/Foreman)
4. “Maggot Butty” (Kerekes/Slater/Home)
5. “Can the Cannibal?” (Quatro/Stimbers/Foreman)
6. “The Ghoul on the Hill” (McCartney/Kerekes/Slater)
7. “Fetid Flesh (for Kerekes)” (Stimbers/Foreman/Slater/Home)
8. “Kaught with a Korpse (reprise)” (Kerekes/Slater/Foreman)


Elsewhere other-posted:

#BooksThatShouldNotBe #2

#BooksThatShouldNotBe #3

Thiz Iz Siz-Biz…

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Book in BlackBlack Sabbath: Symptom of the Universe, Mick Wall (Orion Books 2013)

Critical Math – A Mathematician Reads the Newspaper, John Allen Paulos (Penguin 1996)

Rude BoysRuthless: The Global Rise of the Yardies, Geoff Small (Warner 1995)

K-9 KonundrumDog, Peter Sotos (TransVisceral Books 2014)

Ghosts in the CathedralThe Neutrino Hunters: The Chase for the Ghost Particle and the Secrets of the Universe, Ray Jayawardhana (Oneworld 2013) (posted @ Overlord of the Über-Feral)


Or Read a Review at Random: RaRaR

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Front cover of Dog by Peter SotosDog, Peter Sotos, with an introduction by Mikita Brottman (TransVisceral Books 2014)

August 9, 2012. Anglo-American academic Mikita Brottman departs her apartment in Minneapolis to attend a ’70s nostalgia concert at a local rock-arena. Behind her, she leaves transgressive author Peter Sotos to dog-sit her prized French bulldog Ludovicus. Four hours later, Brottman returns to her apartment to discover Ludovicus gone and Sotos lying unconscious on the floor.

When he revives, Sotos describes how, minutes after Brottman’s departure, the apartment was invaded by a masked gang.

He remembers trying to fight them off.

Then it all went black…

Dog is a detailed examination of that fateful August day and its continuing repercussions. It is a true-crime book like no other, written from the inside by a no-holds-barred author who has been at the heart of events right from the beginning. As Brottman writes in her introduction:

Peter was a rock thru-out the bewilderment-and-grieving process. It was truly a great comfort when he told me that, altho’ he knew Ludovicus for only a brief time, he felt that the two of them had achieved a genuine and permanent closeness. Furthermore, despite the brutal assault to which he was subjected and the stress-induced indigestion he suffered for two days after Ludovicus’s disappearance, Peter barely left my side for the rest of the month, helping me to process my initial shock and horror and trying to assist the police investigation in any way he could. He also came up with the most plausible theory as to the gang’s identity. No trace of any break-in could be discovered, nor, despite detailed examination of multiple CCTV-feeds, was it possible to identify any strangers entering or leaving the apartment-block during the relevant time-period. But, while the gang was in the apartment, they cleaned the kitchen and polished the stove.

Peter’s suggestion?

“They must have been gay ninjas, Miki,” he said.

I concur. It’s the only explanation that fits all the facts. (Introduction, pg. xii)

But why would gay ninjas kidnap Ludovicus? Where have they taken him? When will they issue a ransom demand? These questions continue to haunt all those involved in this unique tragedy. Dog interrogates each aspect of the case from every conceivable angle and will only serve to sharpen Sotos’s two-fisted reputation as an uncompromisingly incendiary submariner of the most phantasmal sierras of the post-transgressive arena.


Previously pre-posted on Papyrocentric Performativity:

Toxic Twosome — review of Doll by Peter Sotos and James Havoc
Proviously post-posted on Papyrocentric Performativity:

Twice Has Thrice the Vice — review of Pisces by Peter Sotos

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Front cover of Doll by Peter Sotos and James HavocDoll, Peter Sotos and James Havoc (TransVisceral Books, 2013)

Peter Sotos and James Havoc are undoubtedly the two most transgressive authors on the planet. They’ve been flagellating the frontiers of ferality, exterminating the envelope of extremity, for over three decades. And when – at long last – they collaborate on a book, you can expect them to deliver something pretty darn special to their slavering armies of fetidity-fanatics. Doll is exactly that: special. I have never read any book before that so fearlessly eviscerates forbidden territory, exploding sacred cows with cerebral scalpels of clandestine commitment and viral volatility. TransVisceral Books are to be congratulated on spotting the performative potential of an interview conducted by Cor.tex Journal with James Havoc a year ago in a Cambodian café in Bangkok. The interview is used as an introduction to the book and, to rip the lid off Doll, I can do no better than reproduce part of it right here:

Tina Robinsey: Well, James, what’s the best way to put this? We’re here to talk about your passion for under-sized females.

James Havoc (laughing): Yes.

Tina Robinsey: And it’s a long-standing passion, I believe?

James Havoc (laughing again): Yes. Very long-standing. I’ve kept it up for decades.

Tina Robinsey: And there are few better places to pursue this passion than Bangkok, I guess.

James Havoc: Yes. Very few.

Tina Robinsey: Because they’re available on street-corners, aren’t they?

James Havoc (taking sip of herbal tea): Well, it’s not as blatant as that. Not nowadays. They’ve tightened up on enforcement of the international regulations a lot, in recent years. But if you’ve got the contacts, yeah, it’s still an excellent place to pursue this, ah, hobby.

Tina Robinsey: And other members of the counter-cultural community have flown in to take advantage of your contacts and local knowledge, I believe?

James Havoc: Yeah. Loads of big names. Pete Sotos, Dave Mitchell, Sam Salatta, they’ve all been over to check out what’s on offer and to admire my harem, as it were. Pete offered me cash on the nail for my best girl, but I turned him down flat.

Tina Robinsey: How much did he offer?

James Havoc: Oh, I’m not saying. But it was a lot, believe me. When you see her, you’ll understand why. Just hang on a sec.

[Unzips the shoulder-bag he has brought, carefully removes cardboard box, opens it, lifts out contents…]

Tina Robinsey: Oh, James, she’s gorgeous!

James Havoc: Thank you.

Tina Robinsey: And that cerise beret! It’s to die for!

James Havoc: Thank you.

Tina Robinsey: Did you make it yourself?

James Havoc: Yes. I make all their clothes myself.

Tina Robinsey: Can I have a closer look?

James Havoc: Sure. But be gentle with her, please.

Tina Robinsey: Oh, but she really is gorgeous! And the stitching is wonderful. So tiny! And so neat!

James Havoc: Thank you. My mum always said I was the best seamstress in the family. Far better than my sisters or my aunties.

Tina Robinsey: And does she have a name?

James Havoc: Of course. Say hello to Tina, dear. [Puts on cutesy ickle girl’s voice.] “Hello, Tina. I’m Belinda Barbie. Pleased to meet you.”

Tina Robinsey: And pleased to meet you, Belinda. Do all your Barbie-buddies have names starting with “B” too?

James Havoc: Yes. There’s Betsy Barbie and Bella Barbie and Beth Barbie and Barbarella Barbie and a whole bunch of others.

Tina Robinsey: Oh, James, she is sooooo cute. I think I’ve fallen in love! No wonder Peter Sotos wanted her so much.

James Havoc: Yes. He’s a fanatical collector too.

Tina Robinsey: And what about Sindy? Do you collect her at all?

James Havoc (shaking head, pulling face, and making gagging noise): No, no, never. Barbie’s the only girl for me. I accept no alternative.

Tina Robinsey: And what about Ken?

James Havoc: No, he’s never interested me. [Starts singing] “I’m a Barbie-boy, in a Barbie world…” A Barbie world, note. Ken can go take a flying fuck at a rolling ringpiece, as far as I’m concerned. (Interview text © Cor.tex Journal, 2012)

Having seen the interview, TransVisceral Books approached Havoc and asked him whether he’d like to collaborate with Sotos on a book devoted purely and simply to Barbie. Doll is the result. Sotos and Havoc trace the roots of their passion, describe their ever-expanding collections and offer low-cost, high-quality tips on customizing Barbie’s clothes and accessories to keep pace with the ever-changing worlds of fashion and popular music. There’s an extensive photo-section too, so you can meet Belinda, Betsy, Bella, Beth, Barbarella and all the rest. Barbie’s appeal has never been so clearly explained or so passionately celebrated, but the book may leave you – as it left me – with one nagging fear. How are Sotos and Havoc ever going to match it in future, whether solo or in collaboration? Quite honestly, I don’t think they will – and from the proud, Barbie-boy grins they wear in the photos, I don’t think they care

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