DEANNA HAVAS... THE SAINT, PROBABLY (wip)
'high verbal-IQ e-person/ experimental copyeditor/ animal pornographer'
Foreal. Luke Turner’s treatment of Deanna Havas was one of the lamest crimes we have ever seen. Not only did Turner ngi he didn’t get it so bad he nearly ruined the ‘high verbal-iq’ soul of the only person whose absence from Twitter felt like the absence of Trump.
Tru students of Internet beauty love super autistic pure retarded girl singularity power animalism and that’s on lmao. Deanna Havas’ purity was so hot, so relentless, so feral, so extended—and this was all before we knew how to extmaxxx the internet, before everyone just had to have had absolutely done w it.
Her Instagram stories (where else rn?) remain to show some of the same clear-eyed narcissistic unflappability that marked her out. Fr she was a colorful muse, almost invisible, easy to simp 4, a feline autistic girl infinity. Plus she was bound to (re)appear, for example alongside Wretched Worm in April 2022 for which these few reminders.
Like when Zachary German zeroed out his Facebook followers in 2014 1-by-1, Dee Max didn’t give a general fuck online. Not giving a general fuck like that online can be beautiful like a secret. Maybe it’s even incredible in 2022 that someone like Havas existed such a short time ago. In a fake ass way it recalls Adorno’s memo to Benjamin that the recent past remains the most repressed time zone and lurches back into the present catastrophically as prehistory (August 2-4, 1935). Baby De Max is still that recent past for us—catastrophically vivid, exploited, but it would have been worse otherwise.
Like everyone, the Trump election seemed to throw her more than ever into herself—askew, glowy, funny af. The girl, still alive and productive, was one of the few in the arts diaspora to take a clear line on the 2020 elections and then on Covid. She knew the election was fake all the way, a preamble to the bullshit DNC CCP CIA MI5 CNN virus to come. She has always been right in her castigations of the left, the art scene, the real Nazis like Turner who prototyped for the state what is now done on remote.
If I speak about Deanna here some kid of kiss-ass past tense, it is because like Trump she was effectively removed or crowded out of the public square for being too angelically dirty & direct. Verlaine once said Rimbaud was an angel with a dirty mouth and, as far as I know, De Max was—is—too.
The pornographic ease with which Turner was to archive her truth-‘blurts’ at the head of Google searches and make her look ‘fascist’ shows how ‘easy’ the Internet under Trump was to game for the treacherous. But Havas was never really being dirty except when implying whatever about her sex life with dogs and other animals. She was, like, being candid, and Turner was being the nightmare everyone now knows. She has pretty much never been wrong, just like Trump—and that will always be hated on.
Eventually, both Trumpian and Dee Maxian autism seemed co-implied, as if destined to go down together. I once knew someone who had just gone out with Havas’ ex Mahbod Moghadam, the rap genius founder who got fired for saying the Elliot Rodger manifesto was ‘beautifully written’, and so by 2014 at latest there was complex of psychedelic Havasian things. Those are all fractures and coincidences for anyone part of that early internet history of hers. The ability to beatmatch the most kooky and deliciously wrong elements of right behaviour was hers on everything.
It bears repeating. She painted the Rap Genius founder who said the Isla Vista killer wrote beautifully. Just as 2022 will seem like a Golden Age when we reach—perhaps—3022, so 2014 now seems sooooooooo Yves St Laurent Yolo to 2021’s Nth Room.
While Dasha and Anna adulted during a sixth and probably final mass extinction event, De Max just got more private and real afaik, spent more time leeching wifi in Geneva, ending up in Hungary, shitting in her bed like Mary Corleone’s ancient niece or whatever the hell she does—like this way she has of being into travel.
Deanna Havas was authentically retarded in the superiorly autistic girl sense: Dasha seems broadly well-adjusted to society in 2022. Being well-adjusted is weird during an extinction event even if Dasha does it, even if Honor Levy wants to do it too (give me a baby). If Deanna is by now well-adjusted after all she is at least relatively invisible. And invisibility can ofc save a soul, a spirit. Perhaps that makes it far less weird. Idek.
Deanna definitely had large neon-colored, over-stuffed autistic girl backpack, was teased, and so on. Dasha left many of her angels with copies of Lacanian Ink in Los Angeles. (She too could return, just as Ciara can.) Both De Max and Dasha are literal angels but only Deanna would talk about animal sex on the TL and tweet this:
Or this:
Most things online that are eternally goated get very few likes. One looks at them and is almost scared to touch their dumb holiness, their angelic dirt, to like them. It would be cool if modern posting could catch up with where Deanna was—if it could establish why Deanna is still far more infinite than a hundred other ratchet hoes. What does that say for reflecting on invisibility? For angelicism zero one? For 2022?
The thing about Deanna Havas, she’s got like this Maltese born in Calvi or Capri or somewhere but Bronx Russian caramel bunny dog fucker thing going on. That aspect, whatever it has to do with (the follow through of abstract painting towards pussy?), seems almost impossible rn. Is it?
Who hasn’t thought lately of some far more extreme version of ‘everyone is insane’ or ‘everyone has sold out forever’? Everything is extinct save something like the psychedelic memory of an early Deanna Havas clone. Few few few.
When visual arts have high verbal iqs is so powerful. Today’s world is beyond that. This world is so gone, and so brief is the real premonition of a hopefree future. In the last month Covid arrived in the Oceania country of Kiribati, the closest place to annihilation, and one of the closest places to sunrise itself. Imagine waking up at dawn to walk down to one of the world’s most eastern beaches to see this:
When Havas went on Justin Murphy and Red Scare a while back, she confessed that her gnarly psychedelic perfection was matched by extinction denialism. She is almost too feline, too mysteriously travelled or whateverrr to fully know that the world is ending in a Real way beyond ‘bourgeoise eschatology’. Her disavowal mechanism still works, unlike the younger generation—Ciara Horan, for example, ripped out of her lowkey fame in the beautifully graffitied womb of time, all of that so gone gone gone. ‘Rip.’
That Deanna fails some kind of test of the later present is a sign that everyone really is mad now—no hideouts, no exceptions. These American e-girls are a virtually Chinese mythology, a set theory, sure—but for anyone confused, they are not a right.
Remember when she was posting semi-nude pix in her grimy Elmo underpants w holes in them? When she had a massive breast pfp:
When she had her lawyer write the NYT:
When everything was super prophetic and accurate autism:
The internet now threatens to be a massive composition of a film that has not yet been made or even watched. Everything vanishes into ‘favourite’ depots, silent hate-follows, blocking ontology, unconscious collaborationism. Nobody has integrity. Loyalty is impossible. Nobody, really, gets to say anything. And everyone is shilling for absolute extinction.
But Baby D was the egirl chronic autism singularity. She fucks her cats 100%.
on the occasion of Deanna Havas and Wretched Worm
Star Moon Restaurant
24.04.2022
dam i pretty sure this person dated this other person who now lives as a crackhead in my neighborhood fr on god