Tuesday, March 31, 2015

snowweight asymptote


(via)

    "Zero Dark Thirty Sum Game"

soylent zero
a rad padlock
i was rusting
collect red drops
the wopwops shook

one clinic past
one black sapling
shorn of buds now
oobleck necklace
cyclops robber

the wits riddled
with slack phantoms
to lug doubly
a dead letter
roadblock auction

and this fib proves
heart's clam blab-spree
O hubbub thwart

10 Female Outsider Artists.

         "Appreciation

The lively gestures have cried, turning alpaca
      without appreciation

To endure a satisfactory deck, an
      unsatisfactory chant, a punctual
      ivory-country glow, a warlike aspiration, an expectant typist

Like quick imbeciles
We have sent him a string"

--Robot X, 277.

74 Essential Books.

“I was hostage swapped for the rain
And up there I said
The absence of pain is alarming"

--porpentine

Sign language from Occupy.


(via Discarding Images on Facebook)

Untriseptium.

Unamuno & Wittgenstein both learned Danish in order to read Kierkegaard.

Labels: ,

Monday, March 30, 2015

discernment terminology


polyester interjection bisque
drizzles tadpole doppelganger busk
roiling world spectacular & blind
in my wooden maze a wolf grown blurred
orange detour elegy again

orange spiral the redeye hogan
DOSIG spawn harries with botfly care
flickercoif narrowing oil boom cure
fog to school me in cerulean love
or some garden where the stars believe

who could whisper so a pitbull halts
indigo cloud blurts nine low feghoots
room without a roof speeds powderkeg
& bewray i now the late blitzkrieg
jiaya this time or utmost crash

poppy lantern clownwhite lapse · peckish
glissade ·: arrive at clamorous pause
underfoot zugzwang one hoof appears
of the reason why & Betelgeuse
in Orion knows it with tiger jazz

these forgotten ulcers prostitute
the Pink Floyd-flavored heart void estate
where agroof we lie to fool ourselves
handlebar moustache on argon missives
i bargained for like a nincompoop

buzzards soar above abhorrent perp
as the powerful are allowed to reap
runaway vampire rampage death-grip
escapepunk i may idle richly
in the latter days of ratfink chill

gelid burden, hajji churl

------------------------------------------------------------------
DOSIG: Enochian 'night'
jiaya: Taneraic 'of jasmine'

Labels:

Friday, March 27, 2015

a busyness of ferrets


"It was not from the camps of the barbarians, but from the schools of the monks, that the heaviest blow was struck against the traditions of the ancient learning." --an anonymous reviewer in the Edinburgh Review, 1877

Lighten up.

"Man’s life is a line that nature commands him to describe upon the surface of the earth, without his ever being able to swerve from it, even for an instant." --Baron d'Holbach

Fear and loathing.

"Every war...is represented not as a war, but as an act of self-defense against a homcidal maniac." -George Orwell (via @SaladinAhmed)

Cult numbers.

      "d'Holbach's conjecture"

turquoise styrofoam
the saracen-shaved chances
of being salvaged

ride my crepuscular
mithridation there

yclept Pan-Penult
my perfect Esperanto
knuckleduster whist

a witchburning countdown t'ward
which either speeds or tarries

mackerel skies of
Bildungsroman palimpsest
i see wires under

astronaut kwashiorkor
still sending his signal back

the patient lingered
abstemiously wordbound
& itching to speak

praise the cryptological
luxury of toad-eating

shape of this coast, due
to Itzcuintli tsimtsum,
shape of the otchkies

Mnizourin warrumbool
the storm & the aftermath

the city made of
labyrinthine mauvaise foi
& a few sharp stones

Mokusatsu Zeitlichkeit
(heart) the time of the mistake

those who would pursue
cryptozoic syzygy
& those who flee it

palindrome apocalypse
is Quetzalcoatl razbliuto


Khidr listens for
mouldwarp verbalization
on the path of wisps

he wages Nyarlathotep
glossolalia on words

Innes's star zzxjoanw
echoes in a Dyson sphere
Star of the Magi

cut by some unknowable
revisionist tomorrow

not two high kites but
pterodactyl conjunction
is what i descry

the superlative wordsmith
takes away the more you read

azure betrayal
sapphirus intercession
indigo my prayer

now it becomes much clearer
the soul's squamous quintessence

on Babel tower
they fleer these pejorative
tenuosities

the long way, petroleum
apokatastasis comes

he has many miles
adventuresome gastropod
trailed by birds of shade

sudden & unseasonal
my mystery redeployment

wrestle with Bardo
Thodol jurisprudence
potholes seem like torts

leave one Septentrioni
coprolite to proclaim

in this wind doors swing
wide of their own volition
& the questions fall
before you can answer their
sunlight interrogation


(pic by Stelios Faitakis)

"At one point, one helicopter pilot, a wonderful man named Thompson, saw what was going on and actually landed his helicopter. He was a small combat — had two gunners. He just landed his small helicopter, and he ordered his gunners to train their weapons on Lieutenant Calley and other Americans. And Calley was in the process of — apparently going to throw hand grenades into a ditch where there were 10 or so Vietnamese civilians. And he put his guns on Calley and took the civilians, made a couple trips and took them out, flew them out to safety. He, of course, was immediately in trouble for doing that." --Seymour Hersh on Tom Clark's blog

Labels: ,

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

dream foam grog


(pic by Jim Woodring)

Overshoot.

"I would rather place a paper crown on my head
and go to sleep than give energy to a terrifying painting."

--Christine Shan Shan Hou

"There are no swear words in Euskera [Basque]. The only one anyone could come up with was madarikátue, which means 'damned.' " --Kurlansky

Salvage.

"I forgot jasmine insisted it was the scent of gold." --Eileen Tabios

Dorf poetic forms.


This 137-phile also plays the theremin.

"Dr. Bill Riemers writes: classical physics tells us that electrons captured by element #137 (as yet undiscovered and unnamed) of the periodic table will move at the speed of light. The idea is quite simple, if you don't use math to explain it. 137 is the odds that an electron will absorb a single photon. Protons and electrons are bound by interactions with photons. So when you get 137 protons, you get 137 photons, and you get a 100% chance of absorption. An electron in the ground state will orbit at the speed of light. This is the electromagnetic equivalent of a black hole. For gravitational black hole, general relativity comes to the rescue to prevent planets from orbiting at the speed of light and beyond. For an electromagnetic black hole, general relativity comes to the rescue and saves element 137 from having electrons moving faster than the speed of light. However, even with general relativity, element 139 would still have electrons moving faster than light. According to Einstein, this is an impossibility. Thus proving that we still don't understand 137." --Feynman Online (The book.)

Such analyse. Many grammar. Amaze.

Labels:

Friday, March 20, 2015

acorn pyre


(painting by Zao Wou-ki via southebys dot com)

"'God’ll need to be one hell of a palindromist,' I said, 'if history after the Gib G’Nab is to be anything other than sheer gibberish.'"

"Unless something changes sharply very soon, their view from outside may well see modern science—all of it, from the first gray dawn of the scientific revolution straight through to the flamelit midnight when the last laboratory was sacked and burned by a furious mob—as a wicked dabbling in accursed powers that eventually brought down just retribution upon a corrupt and arrogant age." --The Archdruid Report

Adventures in Unhistory.

"He [Arana] reflected on why his nation was not a country and resolved to give it the missing elements. He gave it a name, inventing the word Euzkadi from Euskal, meaning 'Euskera speaking,' and the suffix di, meaning 'together.' Before this, Euskera had only the phrase Euskal Herrig 'the land of Euskera speakers.' " --Mark Kurlansky, The Basque History of the World (1999)


(via cthulhucene on tumblr)

Palindrome Apocalypse.

"There must be dogs barking at the bottom of chaos--great, hoarse hounds whose voices bounce eternally against falling rock and echo and reecho in the crevices of eternity. Only a dog's voice out of the deep abysses carries the proper menace and at the same time preserves the weird objectivity and indifference which is part of the hunting pack. A lion's voice is great but personal, a dog's bark by contrast contains the maniacal essence of chaos, dumb matter come alive in the dark and howling its voice endlessly and stupidly against the sleeping quiet of nonexistence--but I overelaborate--perhaps you have not heard as I have hounds beneath you as you cling desperately to a cliff wall. When I get to the bottom they turn warm and wagging and friendly--again with the total irrationality that obtains over the great cliff of chaos. Did they take me finally, because of my successful descent, as a demon like themselves--for if I had fallen, they had given every indication of devouring me--or are the dogs of Cerberus, the hoarse-voiced, much-feared guardians of Nothing, actually abysmally friendly and lonely creatures? Since that long, agonizing descent before I reached the city on the plain, I have never been quite sure. When I come to the Final Pit in which they howl, I shall, without too great a show of confidence, put out my hand once more and speak. Perhaps the great hounds of fear may wait with wagging tails for a voice who knows them. It may as well be mine. For who is to know one demon from another in the dark..." --Eiseley

Music from a Neanderthal flute.

"That slightly aspirated 'ha' on the h separates Euskalduns from Spanish speakers. The Spanish call Hondarribbia Fuenterrabia, because they cannot say the h. Yet neither can all Basques. In the Roncal Valley, near Roncesvalles, the h becomes a k, and in another valley h is pronounced like a g." --Kurlansky


(emporioefikz via uggly via steampunktendencies on tumblr)

Names on Ceres (including Yumyum).

"Painting never ends, it is the only thing in the world which is both continuous and still." --Joan Mitchell

Labels:

Monday, March 16, 2015

volvelle


Pi and the Raven.

"The armies wreak their havoc, and those still alive struggle to live among the ruins, and perhaps history will be kind enough to rebuild again before another onslaught."

"I do not fear our extinction particularly. What I really fear is that man will ruin the planet before he departs." --The Lost Notebooks of Loren Eiseley

Los Diplomaticos.

"Among the master bone hunters no such record exists, perhaps because these men had passed the point of no return and grew silent, or confined themselves to the aloof impersonal examination of a skull on the beach. There is a serene, cold excellence about their final judgment, but these have sometimes ceased to have about them a human quality." --Eiseley, op cit

Music from brainwaves.


Olivine around tau Ceti. (via @SpaceRef)

"It is obvious that I unconsciously regard the rejected fragments so wastefully strewn about me as the dismembra of a civilization already perished and in the midst of whose solitude I linger like Crusoe upon his isle." -ibid

Worse than the Holocaust.


Rentpunk.

"Only a few words wistfully remain:
Love. Me. Everybody. Please.
I capture the restaurant as silent chefs simply flee
Across a sky of capillary hues."

--Mike Keith

Labels:

Thursday, March 12, 2015

oboe pang


"in gold letters on the

modern fashionable

emerald quadrangular

hills"

--Tom Phillips, A Humument

Kim Dot Dammit goes to Forest Haven (part 1).

"One of the few Euskera [Basque] words to have become part of popular American English is jauntxo, which in English has kept the same pronunciation and become the word honcho. A jauntxo was a wealthy, powerful, rural landowner. Derived from the word jaun, which means 'sir,' 'a lord,' or sometimes even 'a god,' jauntxo has an ironic negative undertone. There is the implication of exploitation." --Mark Kurlansky, The Basque History of the World (1999)


(via @ESA_Rosetta)

"And so they did not fall
On the Sigean plains, nor captive met
The captive's doom, nor burned with burning Troy,
But found their way through battle and through flames."

--Cranch's Virgil, VII

Kim Dot Dammit part 2.

"More than one lost mountaineer lying dead at the bottom of a crevasse has proved that his sole achievement in life was to inch some plant a half-mile further toward the moon." --The Lost Notebooks of Loren Eiseley (1987)


(via kim dot dammit)

"To a time-foreshortened eye all form would become bubblings or momentary imaginative shapes such as one sees when dreaming before a winter fire. One thinks one sees a shape and it is gone. Perhaps it is so with God half-asleep over the dying embers of his universe, and dreaming the shapes that come and go through the coals." --ibid

Labels: