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Læs om konceptet bag "art challenge: LAGUEPEvsLADSOR" ved at klikke her

UPDATE: "art challenge: LAGUEPEvsLADSOR" står på standby.


March 30, 2013

Dear friend,

Do you recognize the format from The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky? Obviously, I’m referring to the book, though Chbosky directed the film adaptation as well. Admittedly, I don’t think the film is any good at all since what is interesting about The Perks of Being a Wallflower isn’t what happens to Charlie, but the way Charlie perceives what happens to him. Hence, what intrigued me about Charlie weren’t the things he wrote about in his letters to the stranger, the unknown “Dear friend”, but the way he wrote them, since the writing seemed to reflect his mind. 
  In the beginning, everything he wrote was very simple. Short sentences. Thus, it made me think that Charlie was sort of naïve, you know, someone with a simple mind. Eventually, I came to realize that it wasn’t so. On the contrary, I figured that Charlie had a really complicated mind - the kind of mind that won’t rest or stop spinning. Not even for the tiniest second. Consequently, I concluded that Charlie needed all the dots to keep track on his thoughts and order them up nicely, so that they wouldn’t run away with him. However, his style of writing and his vocabulary did develop eventually. I think it had to do with all the books he read. I mean, the books his teacher in advanced English class gave him because he thought Charlie was smart and special. Undoubtedly, Charlie learned from those books. Not only about writing, but also about life.
   The first book Charlie read was To Kill a Mockingbird. It seemed to mean a lot to him although I’m not exactly sure why. Maybe, it is because I didn’t get all the intertextual references though I’m sure that they were there somewhere. However, I have a copy of To Kill a Mockingbird on my own shelf, but I wonder if anyone will ever give me his own personal copy, just like Charlie gave Sam his copy because he loved her. So, I wonder if I will ever be loved by someone who loves books too or if I will be mistaken for someone with a simple mind when really my mind is quite complicated and wonderful and fantastic and intriguing and somehow difficult to grasp since it definitely is the kind of mind which runs wild if it doesn’t use dots.

Love always,



Saturns day it's gonna be.......... ladsor + laguepe



Trust(?) your senses

Bienvenus mes amis! 

Your ancient reptile is back from the Buy-a-harbour capital of the little kingdom in the heart of Scandinavia to welcome you to laguepe and ladsor’s kitchen garden dedicated to the curious, waggery loving soul starving for art and other spiritual drugz. ladsor has been on a journey through the RITUAL of inuits expressing themselves by use of break dance to farmers defending themselves in plays before going BACK TO THE DESSERT with associations flying back to Algeria as portrayed by Camus’ “The Stranger”. 
But no one can fly like our waspcat - laguepe is terminated at the stars with yet another publication having become a reality. Her latest work of flash fiction is to be seen in the february edition of “Slagtryk” - an e-magazine that selects the best poems and flash fiction texts of professionals as well as amateurs for publication each month. In the text WITHOUT TITLE our dear laguepe supply the tones of an untouched piano with melancholy colours and honours the small far too often unnoticed sounds of our everyday life that give evidence of our excistence trying to challenge our senses and definition of music. Read it like I did and I’ll ask you, 
if you can hear the sound of the glints of my teeth.
They reflect the flash of fiction
for which I hunger
I want to eat
her words
and taste their sound
The synesthesia gives them wings and allows you to grap them with your fingers - feeling them -  before they continue to your digestive system where they will make the fibres (from the other veggies of our artistic garden) - formerly thought of as oh so slow - look like they are organic Ferraries on wonder fuel. 
So have patience. Forget what school taught you about having to understand everything
Just enjoy the feeling of something growing inside you.
Bienvenus mes amis - to laguepe and ladsor’s strange kitchen garden of odd wonders!
ancient reptile = ladsorsorous = ladsor = Rosdal
laguepe (French) = the wasp = Cathrine = cat
-omission of capital letters and punctuation intended-

Picture source: earlier challenge


"Scientia est potentia"!

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Det var en mørk og kold morgen. Med vægten af tusind tanker, der pressede næsen næsten helt ned i kaffekoppen, dukkede den spage lyst til at potensere op. Men ak! Læreranstaltens bud om opgaveløsning måtte føjes. “Scientia est potentia”: Viden er magt! Potensere, potentia ... potens? Var der her en sproglig forbindelse mellem et manddomssymbol og magt? Hænger disse to begreber med sproget således også i den fysiske verden uadskilligt sammen? Eller er der en skjult mening med, at det latinske ord for magt med dets afsluttende “a” rent grammatisk er feminint?

ovennævnte er ladsors indledning til ladsors SRO om kønsrollemønstre og kvindens position i familien gennem det 20. århundrede til i dag. ladsor sadsor, dvs. satser, på, at det vil blive betragtet som et tegn på sprogligt overskud, fremfor useriøst sjusk.



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Kønne og ukønne ord (nogle med enten fælles- eller intetkøn, andre helt uden køn) om køn samlet i en stejl og farlig kønstrappe: 



I'll make a man out of you

Good girls

Good girls don't appreciate the feminine dolls, 
dresses, ornate style, and the perfect hairstyles. 
Good girls prefer "Goosebumps" over "Gossip Girl" 
and want to pose like asses in pictures.

"Woman, stay in the kitchen"


by ~pcheel

Phenomenal Woman af Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman

Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.