2012 04 17 1806
Kaladi Brothers @ Title Wave, ANC
Mod u late ing....
shiroldiiing bluirete mnuretlcins;er timulbmerrting.
faruethutlucnol liernlphg eoi fnoi agjitp gneiigngait enlapnc ytaicng fava4itn . Sounds like a love song, eh?
Fuck funding for fourteen atom dispensers. We are in a gun in an ayin. Ayin Edin Eden Evening Everything with something to shovel. Fucking hamburger time. We think AbOut hamburgers too much. Fuck it, I have electricity to shovel. It's a disaster but when you do it, you see beauty. These belts of shovels convey it. With all the abstruction of a tumbling mind, we harvest this electricity. As air, I can finally stand on water. I am in a wire as form, not substance: a wire within a wire. I am the indivisible, nth-part of nil. I disappeared yesterday at the tip of the lightning bolt. The lightning is gone yet I still ride it. I am the locus of loci and the focus of foci, juxtaposed from annihilation. I am in no-man's land, going by the name of Nemo. I am the representation of space-dust but a ghost of a ghost only.
These backflips of mutation of meme and lexeme give me nightmares of ecstasy with beautiful, sonic terrors of indifferentiation. Yet, these various and infinite particle movements create eddies of self-aware monsters everywhere at our feet. We are in a universe of inherent life. Everywhere you look: the static on your TV, the water in the wake of a boat, the swirls of the cream in your coffee, the dust in the wind, a human mind spinning into madness, parts of that mind in the self-same spinning, every single one is a singular and separate monster of panic separated from God and Death and Stillness. I look in the eyes of these whorls and see their longing for more form and less form. We are just as the whole of the universe is, looking to convey our view to another and never coming close. This is the sadness of God. The gladness of him is the maniacal self-occupying God that wants to bounce a mirror off itself. No two mirrors are alike, though. On one hand, death is dissolution. On the other hand, death is lack of mutation. Either way, Death is stillness. Infinite life involves being on fire all of the time, in perpetual electrocution. Sad/glad thing is, you have no choice in the matter. You are to suffer/enjoy the vast expanse of arbitrary and illusory time till you remember to forget. Time is the face of Change that is metered out by the changel, Choronzon. I am on the other side of nothing in the omni/anti-land of paradox to live as a god and eat cold shit and love it. I am the ghost of a lightning bolt. Don't blame me, blame mathematics. Blame the finite who dreams of infinity. You have no choice but to wait it out, so long as the One longs for Zero.
As you can tell, I have completely and fully gone insane to the point where I hardly exist. I am the thought of a thought. I am the ghost of a ghost. I am in a well within a well and my ladder within is irrelevant and, therefore, useless. What's the use of willfully climbing or descending if I am being pulled against my will. Am I falling or rising? I hardly care. Am I coming or going? I hardly care. Am I dead or alive? I hardly care. The "I"--or the wake of the "I"--that's left can tell it's moving, though. Many would claim that this is the nightmare of the average American human but I can't understand why I love it so much. I broke and I hardly care if I live or die tomorrow or a hundred trillion years from now. I feel like a lightning bolt.
Don't cry for me. This is far better than life. This IS life, you just don't know it yet. These references I make to "I" are just by-products of it, just like the residual heat from a lightning strike. The Blasted Tower? Feels like my life and life in general, whether for better or for worse.
**Points finger-gun at head and smiles. Thumb/hammer falls and "blam!", spiritual brains all over the man and woman sitting, drinking coffee to his left.** He knows that he doesn't know and doesn't care that he cares.
I am a glutton for punishment in this high-frequency, Yottahertz, omni-dimensional, chaos modulation called life. And so, again..
IO Hrvy!
Kaladi Brothers @ Title Wave, ANC
Mod u late ing....
shiroldiiing bluirete mnuretlcins;er timulbmerrting.
faruethutlucnol liernlphg eoi fnoi agjitp gneiigngait enlapnc ytaicng fava4itn . Sounds like a love song, eh?
Fuck funding for fourteen atom dispensers. We are in a gun in an ayin. Ayin Edin Eden Evening Everything with something to shovel. Fucking hamburger time. We think AbOut hamburgers too much. Fuck it, I have electricity to shovel. It's a disaster but when you do it, you see beauty. These belts of shovels convey it. With all the abstruction of a tumbling mind, we harvest this electricity. As air, I can finally stand on water. I am in a wire as form, not substance: a wire within a wire. I am the indivisible, nth-part of nil. I disappeared yesterday at the tip of the lightning bolt. The lightning is gone yet I still ride it. I am the locus of loci and the focus of foci, juxtaposed from annihilation. I am in no-man's land, going by the name of Nemo. I am the representation of space-dust but a ghost of a ghost only.
These backflips of mutation of meme and lexeme give me nightmares of ecstasy with beautiful, sonic terrors of indifferentiation. Yet, these various and infinite particle movements create eddies of self-aware monsters everywhere at our feet. We are in a universe of inherent life. Everywhere you look: the static on your TV, the water in the wake of a boat, the swirls of the cream in your coffee, the dust in the wind, a human mind spinning into madness, parts of that mind in the self-same spinning, every single one is a singular and separate monster of panic separated from God and Death and Stillness. I look in the eyes of these whorls and see their longing for more form and less form. We are just as the whole of the universe is, looking to convey our view to another and never coming close. This is the sadness of God. The gladness of him is the maniacal self-occupying God that wants to bounce a mirror off itself. No two mirrors are alike, though. On one hand, death is dissolution. On the other hand, death is lack of mutation. Either way, Death is stillness. Infinite life involves being on fire all of the time, in perpetual electrocution. Sad/glad thing is, you have no choice in the matter. You are to suffer/enjoy the vast expanse of arbitrary and illusory time till you remember to forget. Time is the face of Change that is metered out by the changel, Choronzon. I am on the other side of nothing in the omni/anti-land of paradox to live as a god and eat cold shit and love it. I am the ghost of a lightning bolt. Don't blame me, blame mathematics. Blame the finite who dreams of infinity. You have no choice but to wait it out, so long as the One longs for Zero.
As you can tell, I have completely and fully gone insane to the point where I hardly exist. I am the thought of a thought. I am the ghost of a ghost. I am in a well within a well and my ladder within is irrelevant and, therefore, useless. What's the use of willfully climbing or descending if I am being pulled against my will. Am I falling or rising? I hardly care. Am I coming or going? I hardly care. Am I dead or alive? I hardly care. The "I"--or the wake of the "I"--that's left can tell it's moving, though. Many would claim that this is the nightmare of the average American human but I can't understand why I love it so much. I broke and I hardly care if I live or die tomorrow or a hundred trillion years from now. I feel like a lightning bolt.
Don't cry for me. This is far better than life. This IS life, you just don't know it yet. These references I make to "I" are just by-products of it, just like the residual heat from a lightning strike. The Blasted Tower? Feels like my life and life in general, whether for better or for worse.
**Points finger-gun at head and smiles. Thumb/hammer falls and "blam!", spiritual brains all over the man and woman sitting, drinking coffee to his left.** He knows that he doesn't know and doesn't care that he cares.
I am a glutton for punishment in this high-frequency, Yottahertz, omni-dimensional, chaos modulation called life. And so, again..
IO Hrvy!