22 Dec 2008
Posted by Russell Duffy at 12:07
Posted by Russell Duffy at 11:46
21 Dec 2008
Posted by TICTAC at 08:08
Sunday, December 21, 2008
It's time to tell you that I have recorded every single one of your petty professional violations, secretly and in exacting detail. I readily drip with anticipation at the thought of our next meeting where we will discuss them. You should not be shocked. I made it clear from the start that I will do anything to service my pleasure. I am not praising your type any longer. That was just a pragmatic ruse. I barely hide my contempt; so it's hilarious to think you were taken in. I am going to be extreme and arbitrary in my treatment of your case. Despite what I said, you simply haven’t fulfilled your part of the bargain. I, in contrast, have shown you the gains to be made from perfecting injustice as a way to normalise the necessary lack of suffrage. Your failure makes me feel really very good.
Oh, and one last thing ... I'm no Communist, you tosser, I openly value all my property.
Posted by murmurists at 02:05
Mainly think I made the mistake of asking Claire outright, questioning her altogether, as she was really just thrown into more curiosity which wasn't then satisfied. That ended badly. I thought it tremendously silly of me, shortsighted. So, Claire, if you're reading this - really sorry. Anyway, this is just the way I sometimes am. It was better with Margaret. And she's usually treacherous. Just to say, M, your essay on St. Augustine has associations I don't recognise. That's a real worry. I wish I had time to stress this better, but I'm between the devil and the deep blue sea here, and my recent encounter with, let's call it, the British Empire, has knocked me for six. The dispute wasn't really between certain familial factors as you were probably led to believe. No, I was on the side of something altogether more vivid. Your work avoids all this. That guy threw me only with his hatred, or at least key aspects and key persons of that ilk. I was unconcerned with the depth and sway of his supposed temporal power - he was, of course, absolutely on time; in fact, I recognised his assertions where necessary. Does that help? Can you let me know? Tomorrow will be too late.
Posted by murmurists at 00:50
20 Dec 2008
the brain in the suitcase swivels on it's chair, looks at the corpse in the reflection and goes...
the room bursts into laughter, floating , high pitched helium voices begin to suffocate in the increasing altitude
the air hasn't eaten for days. I told them not to put the text behind the door, it opens outwards.
I want to enlighten you - yet I find myself trying too hard to cheer up disc vomit. Jaie says, honestly, I read for days
then sticking 'fingers' in my mouth, throw up texts. Symbols burn themselves onto the mind, which has no lips, none
to pronounce the B's and P's. A sort of tyranny/ WORDS HIT YOU HARD.
A voice is something different he spoke--
to birds with ones tone~
The ego is a rule, but not a law. i suck dichotomy--
What I mean is, writing is an act of Bulimia for me, he said--with a shotgun aimed at the milkman--a little to the left motherfucker!!
The brain is still in the suitcase staring at breasts, reminding him of his cowardice. So he punched her, and it turns out....
the audience leaves, silently, putting their chairs on the tables, polite as British people..they're all like after you and shit.
Jaie just goes on throwing up on stage--in front of a mirror, not even gang signs!!! and when he goes home that night he's snug--coz if he has to
he'll curse anyone who he suspects might be doing the same--or worse.
In the bank he had two pounds change and an outer body experience, but it wasn't as exciting as being in the bank counting stars-starts doing all this stuff he's too scared to do
and figured a way out of despair--yeah right!!
and the room just breaks into tears--a sickening orgy of compliments--because nothing is duller than being in the moment. the corpse neologized, accidentally, as if there were crips in the room
and Jaie just goes on plummeting--quantum crytogrphizing--spontaneously--
ARE THOSE YOUR PEOPLE? interrupting before the reply—pre mature emasculate—it happens sideways—the corpse is just nodding it's head to the beat like, yeah this is nice—and in your dreams you are a tyrant, I'm trying to sit down. The page is cunning.
Posted by Jaie at 20:05
19 Dec 2008
18 Dec 2008
The truth is it scares me a little. Not the act itself but the secret life of it, if you know what I mean?
I’m not sure I do.
Well, they all tell you that it is natural but I question that. I mean, who said its natural in the first place?
We are informed by natures self perpetuation. It is part of how we survive.
But, and tell me the truth, do I need to take protection?
Of course precaution is recommended.
Oh, there is no concern there. I am very cautious. I simply will not risk it at any cost. I am well equipped to alleviate any frustration I might feel and there is no fear of losing bodily parts to the palm of my hand is there?
Posted by Russell Duffy at 17:17
Posted by Aaron Held at 16:16
17 Dec 2008
Words by Frank Zappa from the album 'Were Only in it for the Money'
Images stolen by cocaine jesus
Posted by cocaine jesus at 14:41
The world contains the secrets of the universe. I am a teacher of this, and my teachings explain, in ever-greater complexity - of material and of method - the purpose of the void itself. I aim to demonstrate its navigations of terrain and the order of its pithy removals, by way of assembling an exact audit of every form of pain and suffering. Where necessary, I am staging exact reconstructions; all filmed and recorded. So far, I have taught every human being who is born. The potential for greatness is therefore enhanced. I am one for activating that potential. My purpose is to bring clarity via understanding. I am seeking to erase my own death.
Thanks for listening.
Posted by murmurists at 12:15
16 Dec 2008
"THE MEANING OF LIFE"
Look at the Earth
And it's relationship to the Universe
And it appears as nothing more
Than a used unplugged refrigerator
With a closed door
A warm, damp, isolated environment
Ripe for the growth of disparate spores
We, are the Kudzu of the animal kingdom
(Methicillin Resistant Staphylococcus Aureus)
Of backboned organisms
An incurable disease
And because we are alive, living and a part of life
It is arrogant, egocentric, and biased
To believe that life is important,
Of course life is going to cherish and embrace itself
It's in the very nature of nature to flourish,
But 99.9999999 repeated forever percent
Of the entire Universe is lethally hostile towards it
Much less supportive of it.
This makes life special
But it doesn't make it good, sacred or even precious
Just insignificant at best.
If nothing outside of it
Does it even have value ?
We are self aware
But ignorant of our origin
Searching desperately for missing links
And filling in the blanks with fiction,
Constantly questioning the obvious
Oblivious to our own ignorance
Once we see we come from scum
We deny it and return to faith,
I have little respect for hardly anyone
We are weak and stupid, useless, human refuse, moldy waste.
Put here, solely by luck,
and the simple fact that -
IT FEELS REALLY GREAT WHEN WE FUCK.
Posted by Bryan Lewis Saunders at 18:20
15 Dec 2008
Monday, December 15, 2008
I am inter-sexed but without confusion. I am informed by professionals that I am self-evident. But I've reached the point where everything I want to keep is changing and everything I want to change is becoming evermore fixed. I've started formulating my own views about my body because of this, and I am sick of expecting others to do that for me. My voice now changes most things. I am besides all that mature enough, and into my womanhood. Of course, I have replaced some things with others sufficient for a woman. I am still breathing, through. So no harm done.
posted by murmurists at 10:44 PM 0 comments
Posted by murmurists at 22:58
The [world] looks [better/superior] in black and white
[circles] the dioptic [non-discriminatory] exodus/exile in search
from, within [formed alliance] Saturn alligence - torn wings
[the unborn] dieties fathom. Exceeding grasps [constitute madness]
as having sanity [5 senses] obscured [print-out] po(o)rtrait/
then die [infinity] keeping up with. seething naked hatred for all
each second [drip/drip] noble/warrior. superior rights [to fight]
at a safe distance [moon landing] -see world bank/attracts freedom.
[sat/elites] skin/sink, broken padlock. [psychic plasma] wide screen
dream incursions. meanwhile. child soilder, mass graves. 3/5ths news
worthy. [Niggaz] leadership~monkeys' [assassination/self harm]
collective teenage hunger strike as epidemic [more direct hits]
[god in detail] shoelaces--factory [more/or less] refined//slaves//
for death//[brown skin] mostly/hungry, sniff/sniff//glue
cocaine journeys/give peace a break. who is not dead [ and last to consume ]
Nazi's [is that how you spell it?] black birds, addicted to the sky/ [oil-spillage]
black enough/ [who] is more black. This morning. precisely. Language first
second class[stamps/stampedes] 350 million//crisis//choices//[soul]
do you paint? [art] tar gain, blues ^> [as above/so to the right]
mythic[toxic] theft as grandeur| [copy/paste].
Posted by Jaie at 18:47
Amulet Breasts: December 5th
1. A permutation in yellow, drunken conversations the helios between hours
2. Hind fur galloping fast enough to occupy magical space
3. Words mist, exteriors returning to the sweetest now
Alien syntaxes (a throne of tiny blue people) can be seen floating through glowing, lofty deliriums. Vaginas chant beneath the moon. Mayan radio cleaves the universe, the perennial variance set to autonomous. An assemblage of brainwaves (required to nod the speed of light).
The dark side of a good idea...
Psychically nebulous (one wet finger here) at the exact intersection where thought can no longer be bothered to articulate differences. Talking about bones still capable of making this evening blush the lower timorous, waters in pleasure. The history of ruin not groped for years, not what memory (upward razors that forget absolutely, its own pectoral) evokes in the rendered sun.
Whatever the mirror owes us...
Flesh perfected in the process, a minor third after Satan asks the impossible of old, decaying film clips (no legs to whisper a hole in the valley, the gate). Only lovers come here to be human again, the emerald palindrome (semen the foggy bridge) and pure mathematics determining the flicker of within.
1. An octave away from grey impulses, the will to articulate a raindrop
2. Satori radar, the electric prophecy buried in androgyny
3. The nymph's evolution lies beyond the good and evil of crashing imagery
December 5th: The Prison Is No Longer Heard
Posted by Robert at 18:10
Monday, December 15, 2008
Posted by murmurists at 11:50
14 Dec 2008
Solos are the best part:
skin half divided. Well, [if] delivered:
Harmonized weapons: In Fela's shadow.
"If sharks could fly; Then the sky is a big
Introducing myself as Jazz: And this [needs no] is
A bloodless E.P. Bootleg fists and jabs
Waiting for the: Solo to leave://
Fertile earth: Jazz grew
from fertile earth: Exiled Entering
a rapid expansion:-As if no one knew
what the truth was: He played: As if
the Darhma had struck him
in the tooth...And the religion
sang the blues in black and white
six times a week.
Posted by Jaie at 23:42
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Posted by murmurists at 23:24
Dearest Rachel, Six years ago, I remember feeling you were impossible. I was so overwhelmed inside opposing directions in our relationship and I could not adapt, or try to understand, that I remember feeling that I was somehow very worthless, or empty. It has taken me to realise that I don't have everything in reality. I have limits both sometimes and often. There is a point to some space, some support, to find my feet again (a chance to find proverbially I was standing a lot steadier on my feet). I'm against calling this a starting point. So I won't. Although I know I will always try. Can you send that email you sent which I've lost about physical limitations? It's an example of the long periods where we just talked. Can you generally account for all mine? Perhaps I have you saturated. There's no real point yet. Perhaps the point is still ahead, or perhaps just slightly ahead. Remember I'm always here. James
posted by murmurists at 10:48 PM 0 comments
Posted by murmurists at 23:02
You gave your answer[mostly]
in black + white. I was perplexed.
In 3/10ths of a shadow_Legions
For air. When given a choice for moisture.
What isn't a choice in this truck?
Lies in six shapes each time his mouth
denies the existence of a tongue.
I have seen: I know: Released.
The land is patient.
History has not [yet] immunized me.
Synthesized religions are captive.
Yes. As forty suns abandoned. The captive
into the night: The stories here are
more mythical and beaten. In less detail.
They'll agree: Those responsible when
choices swelling are out numbered:
It makes me wonder how much the
women cost: What advantage de-deuced from
electricity in Saturn's eYe: My turn
There are rumours to have seen : Light Ontological;
free from death in a movie:
Starring: Scars to applaud a limp.
The truth of more fertile earth:)
Having guessed at Saturn's noose.
Invited too are the, upright passages of moustaches
behind tanks;; you have struggled,
[thus far] to outweigh the star.
Though I am out numbered
For words to win:
Undress time, from some trouble I had spoken
on the edge of my cup: his teeth:)
You are most languid [this week] in shapes of 5
Extended loosely are
Something hot to do with oneness
Posted by Jaie at 22:48
What dies on your hips?
The only "real" left to wander
in strips of greasy, urban hair
The storm eaten by the aim of science
The Phantom crossing the ocean with its own laws in tow
Class warfare swims its own knotted void
Steel redeems the bloated echo
Animal logic singing your brunette mother like
a brand new libido, a celestial back-beat
Although there is definitely something profoundly wrong with
the sound of a sparkling blow-job in this universe
Posted by Robert at 21:51
13 Dec 2008
Posted by Russell Duffy at 20:16
Posted by Ruela at 19:25
the symbol of god of hermaphrodites
Binaries from the graphic in Ovid. Third trilogies. The fall was fear and caused unfortunate events by making men. XY chromosomes doesn't matter. But the applied cultural engineering of Hermaphroditos does. The creation of an XX/XY god. Robin Hobb's fantasy (male, pollen-producing), her spring acquired of a female, altogether a nymph named Salmakis. Salmakis is a cross-dresser who underwent cosmetic surgery.
Desire of Darkness is an unconscious feminine psychological bathed in its hybrid human form. "She-males". Sandmen have dual genitalia, shifting genders but are asexual among the character's alpha males. Alpha males were originally effeminate and indulge in stereotypical masculine behaviour (leadership, sports etc) to compensate. So called ‘all rounders’ are nearly always closet homosexuals.
Shakespeare's Macbeth is a tradition myth about the cosmic being hermaphrodite. Qualities indicating Hermes embodied transexuality, intrasexuality.
When asked his/her gender s/he said: ‘Satan.’
This compounded the three weird other genders (The Aphroditus), and represented a state of the same embryo, ushering in twice fertility.
In the beginning in the United States, there were three male and female entities, both staminate or with post-evolutionary development. Survival of winged love-gods is known typically in the form of a male Aphrodite woman .
As a divine being with genetic mixed space gender, [identified in the Symposium (Plato).], they are all outraging religionists, the Pope and fertility experts.
Hermes and Aphrodite are actually male/female cells in the anima/animus archetype ideologies of normalisation. Aristophanes planet whose inhabitants are androgynous sexes. Jung was among the Elderlings in the series titled: intersexual, multi-cultural, bi-sexual, bi-lingual.
The word (in the ’beginning’) was in answer to effeminate man synonymous with androgunês, as Erotes. Hermaphroditos was of Atlas, genuinely identified as having breasts, and body attributes usually female (but afterwards as Anima and Animus.)
Ultimately they are core DNA. The time he has breasts, hips and pudenda, he will be considered evolutionary.
The very character of Desire.
Written by A.D.Hitchin 2008.
12 Dec 2008
I forgot what path shall I tread
To dedicate these tears to you.
When you are violently oppressed
I carve roses from memories I once
Felt on a temple wall.
It feels like revenge
Like diamonds, like my friend said
I can't remember, what did my friend say?
I would like to complain
to all the poems that make
me cry when it's inappropriate.
Posted by Jaie at 22:06
Posted by cachorro rabugento morto em noite chuvosa at 20:56
11 Dec 2008
9 Dec 2008
An incandescent hopetred / at the topmost point of my naked container burning / pendulous tits spattered and encircled in liquid gold / moist mass of wearied guns cleave / heave against pale flesh / cough lead / come synaptic / cars head on / become intimate / enmeshed / metal / glass / plastic / embrace / a cracking scream ricochets across conjoined bonnets / bleeds out my ears / carrying wax for an official seal / I smear my shoulders with the ointment / sup diet coke and voddy / rouge my face / put on lensless glasses / turn another card / a figure embossed / holding dank moss soaked shield / holds aloft stick like a sword / knotted Excalibur above fluvial face / scar rivulet across cheek / uneasy dog sound / an order / a thought turns in my cardboard skull and scrapes itself into a corner to play dead / to sulk sullen and unhealthy that on the bus I dared to meet her eyes / bounced off…
Posted by d_rood at 18:15
8 Dec 2008
Posted by Inconsequential at 19:51