Author: Lars Iyer

What’s the final disgust lesson? What’s the final chapter in the book of disgust?

We have to find disgust itself disgusting – that’s what I think. Climb up the ladder of disgust and then throw it away. Disgust at disgust: that’s the goal. Like a negation of negation.

And then what – do we like everything, all of a sudden?

It’s about reaching absolute disgust. Like disgust in itself, incomparable, nothing but itself.

What if … what if the thirteenth bottle stands in for all the poison in the world? What if it’s, like, distilled world. Concentrated world. The essence of the world. What the world is and is and is. The whole world concentrated into a single bottle.

The thirteenth bottle. It’ll be your test. You’ll have to convert it. Change it into something else.

And then what?

I don’t know. Get superpowers. Head out onto the astral plane and defeat the Bug in solitary combat.


Drink it down and maybe you’ll become the true Leader. The Master of Loathing. The Chief of Disgust. The emperor of Horror. The Deepest Gnostic.


The wine makes us taste poison. We taste the poison of everything.

So it’s everything we’re tasting? Everything as it really is. Behind the veil of maya.


We’re tasting the poison of the universe. We’re tasting the horror of everything.

The thirteenth bottle. Livia’s final lesson.

How do you know it’s the thirteenth bottle?

It’s got a big thirteen written across it.

We were supposed to drink all the wines in order?

Were we supposed to drink this bottle last, that’s all I know.

Last?

It’s the pinnacle. It’s the culmination of a whole eschatology of wine. It’s the wine all the others have been leading up to. That will make all of them make sense. We’ve been ascending a wine ladder, don’t you see?

Or descending it. It feels like we’ve been going down, down, down …


Maybe there’s been a method – of sorts.

A method in our drinking?

Thirteen bottles is the end of the course of anti-poison. It’s a cure. A cure in doses.

It really isn’t.

Maybe the thirteenth bottle turns lies into truth. Maybe it’s the messianic wine.

It really won’t be.

Come on then, say the famous words. Drink this in remembrance of me, and all that. That’s what Jesus said, isn’t it: drink this in memory of me?

Not in memory, in remembrance. Which means that when we drink, Jesus comes back. Jesus is there.

So when we drink this … piss, Livia is really here?

Livia’s here, taking the piss.


Drink this in remembrance of me – that’s what Jesus said isn’t it?

So we should drink this in remembrance of Livia. And we should be her disciples.

Fuck that.

And one day, we’ll sit under the fig trees, and the mountains will drip sweet wine … Is that what’s supposed to happen?

This is my blood, poured out for many – that’s what Jesus said. That’s what communion wine is. I’m already being poured as a libation, and the time of my departure has come. That’s what he said at the Last Supper.

And communion is about participation in the life of the vine. It’s not just about following Jesus, doing what he did, as though he were some famous Stoic philosopher or whatever. It’s about sharing his blood, his body – his life.

And sharing his death.

Listen to death-boy.

So it’s about dying to this world. But there’s another world. Jesus promises to drink wine again in the Kingdom, right?

So how do we get to the other world?

We have to be reborn.

I’m a long fucking way from being reborn.

That’s what I used to say.


Are we supposed to be pouring Livia out as a libation, or whatever?

A disgusting libation.

Are we meant to be sharing the disgusting blood of Livia? Actually, I’m not sure I want to be sharing the disgusting blood of Livia.

Jesus turned water into wine. But Livia turned wine into whatever this is.

Vinegar?

It’s worse than vinegar.

Notes of original sin. Of cosmic curse. Of general damnation. Notes of all the circles of Hell.

I think it’s actually bubbling. Or frothing …

With sheer satanism, I reckon.

Notes of rabid dog’s spittle. Notes of cancer – can you taste cancer? Well, this is what cancer would taste like. Notes of paedophilia, probably. Of Jimmy Saville. All the disgusting things.

Jesus says I am the true vine, and so on. What does that even mean?

True means real – ultimate. Definitive. Jesus isn’t, like, one vine among others. He’s the true fucking vine – the new covenant. The source of life itself. And his disciples are the branches of the vine.

And what’s the false wine?

Babylon’s wine, for one thing. False wine, in its golden cup. Which looks beautiful. Which promises pleasure and power. But only produces drunkenness.

What’s wrong with drunkenness? I like drunkenness.

And then there’s Israel, who are supposed to be God’s people. God planted the vine – Israel – and cares for it. And the wine of Israel is supposed to be the redemption of the creation and all that kinda thing. But God’s vine fails to produce good fruit. Or it goes wild. It fails to bear the fruit of justice, faithfulness and love. That’s, like, half the Old Testament.

So when Jesus came along and said, I am the true vine, everyone knew what he meant.

Livia’s disappearance wasn’t a defeat. It wasn’t a retreat – or only a tactical retreat. Livia meant to disappear. It was a Gnostic strategy. Part of the Gnostic game. The game she played with the universe.

You’re a true believer, Shiva.

This wine calls to the other wine – the true wine. The disgusting calls to the non-disgusting. The anti-disgusting. The false wine calls to the true wine. To the true feast. To the wine of the marriage supper of the Lamb.

You’re Livia’s perfect child. Her truest servant. You’re the one who was most loyal. Who most believes. It’s sweet, in a way. Dutifully chugging your wine. Pretending to savour it. A connoisseur of disgust. Livia would approve.

You have an instinct for servitude, Shiva. It suits you in some way. Putting the M in S&M. You’re persistent. You have discipline. The way you’re forcing down her wine. Stubbornly determined that it’ll give you some … enlightenment. That you’re going to learn something.

You’re nothing if not dogged, Shiva. Seeing things through the end, endlessly. The most faithful Gnostic.

You haven’t learnt the vital lesson. That there’s nothing to learn. That Livia was a liar, just like everyone else. That she was a poisoner. And this wine is just poison. The truth is that this wine went off, long ago. Just like Livia went off, long ago. All Livia was a going off.