Tuesday, July 30, 2013

selfie agonistes

Love Sex Fear Death.

Suicide Bridge and Jack Parsons.

i discovered if you have magnetic clip-on sunglasses & carry them in your shirt pocket next to a magnetic-card hotel roomkey, the key will stop working after a while.


Musical anonymity.

"When they saw the music on the day before, the musicians were irate. One asked in rehearsal, 'Excuse me, Mr Walton, has a clarinet player ever done you an injury?' " --Richard Greene, Edith Sitwell: Avant-Garde Poet, English Genius (2011)

Dark Side of the Rainbow.

"Spiral, cone, and pentagon." --Edwin muir

(artwork by doc brite, on livejournal)

Speculative Realism and Art.


What if no religion used words? Imagine that they could impart, & urge to impart, certain rituals, behaviors & avoidances, & even the mental states appropriate to these, without the intermediary of language. There would be no question of faith, & none of truth. --And that is how i see them all. The immense mass of verbiage their adherents have created & continue to create, is to me only so much information pollution. Sometimes it is good poetry (oftener bad): that part is worth keeping. As poetry.

Blog del Narco.


Tuesday, July 23, 2013

a hothead dwarf howl

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Tilbury Poly


Forensic stylometry.

"First we have to remake life
             then we can write
poems about it."



"According to Osbert, the clergymen who sprang up around Lady Sitwell like 'inedible fungi' thought there was something wicked in his sister's taste for Swinburne." --Richard Greene, Edith Sitwell: Avant-Garde Poet, English Genius (2011)

Nordic larping.

Floating stage of the Bregenz Festival in Austria

Not to be an artist.

Kyle Marquis @Moochava 10 Jul
"Yearly reminder: unless you're over 60, you weren't promised flying cars. You were promised an oppressive cyberpunk dystopia. Here you go." via twitter


The last degree of enfeeblement is to be able only to point.

Bridge burned.

It's not stupidity it's BAD DESIGN.

(via via)

and the skies
move against us

were we wise,
and the skies
thick with flies
had not fenced us

and the skies
move against us


Wednesday, July 03, 2013


(by James Dyson on photozo dot com)

     "Hot Air

So soft my pleasure came
Upon a dream,
Iced fire and frosted flame

It was, too brief for blame.
Yet sharp to seem
So soft. My pleasure came

And went--that was its shame,
Not that, supreme,
Iced fire and frosted flame,

It bore the ancient name
Harsh hearts blaspheme.
So soft my pleasure, came

A wind and woke me tame
To that regime
Iced fire and frosted flame

Had burnt to a black frame
Before their steam.
So soft, my pleasure, came
Iced fire and frosted flame."

Vassar Miller, 1963

Like a Stone.

(by Bill Knott via billknottartblog dot blogspot)

Viral memory lane.

The neon seas of Pluto. (The Icarus article is remembered.)