Freedom of Screetch

Invocations from Lydia Lunch

“I’m cuntfrontational.”

Lydia Lunch has just stepped to the mic in my friend’s art gallery in Boulder, Colorado (of all places). She is the antithesis of this sanitized and suburbanized town. She is tight black lace and smeared red lips, talking loud, spraying spit, heavy with whiskey. She is forty minutes late to her own event, sauntering in without apo…