Monday, December 22, 2014

"Ah Love! could you and I with Him conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
Would we not shatter it to bits--and then
Re-mold it nearer to the Heart's Desire!"

--FitzGerald's Rubaiyat

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- (pic via sgc news)

Translated into Lojban here.


Friday, December 19, 2014



we who are about to die
salute you
through the lullaby

we who are about to die
will drop without a cry
yet soon recruit you

we who are about to die
salute you

History of the pilcrow.

“In the dark times Will there also be singing? Yes, there will also be singing. About the dark times.” - Bertolt Brecht via Daniel José Older via @Droogiex

Babylonian woe.

"I carpenter a space for the thing I am given." --Sylvia Plath twitter

Mukimukimanmansu thread.

plant in my eyes the fruit of Crashsound
the imminent collision rushing up

teach me that all things are already broken

Traveling through the dark.

--The Poke via Saladin Ahmed on twitter

"You can’t satirize something so far out of touch with reality."

"Fun fact: Courtney Love was rejected from The Mickey Mouse Club, aged 12, after reading a Sylvia Plath poem for her audition." --SP on twitter

The Last Days of Christ the Vampire.

"And then, when the myself-as-lion ran, the myself-as-wolf rested; but the itself-as-deer never got to rest." from "Tongues of the Matagorda",1982 --R A Lafferty on twitter


" I start my talks these days by saying that we have two great crises: climate change and the concentration of wealth and power in fewer and fewer hands. And they are the same crisis." --Starhawk


Saturday, December 13, 2014

only thieves wear black

(pic by Malana Artist on Fb via Malok)

"Not unlike the effects of 19th century academic painting on the French bourgeoisie, this newfangled art Pompier is designed to be overblown and insincere (or ironic, take your pick), yet hold or increase its value while providing, in turn, an exquisite reflection of the worldview of the new overclass." --Art Net News via @mims via @LeeBillings

Death of the inbetween film.

twilight days of a
country · not anymore to
weep for what cannot
be · only for what is &
inexorably prospers

Who pays?

"Using insects to torture people. Using robots to kill people. Any eight-year-old can tell you that these are things only supervillains do." --@saladinahmad

Pamela Coleman Smith.

"Wynn blew up the iconic Dunes on October 27, 1993. The futuristic Landmark was imploded in 1995, the Sands and the Hacienda in 1996, the Aladdin in 1998, the former Thunderbird/El Rancho in 2000, and the Desert Inn was demolished in stages, with the major implosion in 2001. The jaunty outer-space-and-neon-themed Stardust was blown up in 2007. As structures, these casinos were in their prime, but as concepts, they were out of fashion, and so they were disposable and then disposed of." --Rebecca Solnit


Saturday, December 06, 2014


(soft sculpture by Judith Scott; pic via)

Voorwerp comic book.

"And from afar Tedaldo's spires espies." --Hoole's Ariosto

Creepypasta Masterpost.

autumn of the oligarchs
torquise fathoms to get through

Silverado, last weekend
for many weekends

return to the old subject
a tumbling comet-landing

lockjaw serenade
or op'ra on ebola

lobe Roche lum etheric vape

The Atomic Bomb Game.

Nomads on the grid.

"It began as a teardrop in Babylon. Where the sunlight came from Astarte, shameless goddess of the fecund feminine. The boteh. Stylized rendition of the date palm shoot, tree of life, fertility symbol. It danced through Celtic art, until the heavy feet of Roman legionaries tramped over the Alps. Then it fled the wrath of Mars and Jupiter, dove underground as Empire rose." --Shailja Patel via Metafilter


Wednesday, December 03, 2014

angry diseases of the newborn

(pic by Jesus C.--South Dallas mural--on Facebook)

Aztec death whistles.

"Grace condescending to things framed in chance" --Geoffrey Hill

Microgenre: Godhaze.

"Till Figalordo and Stilletto now" --Hoole's Ariosto

"I’ve heard you say that when someone gets caught up in whether your work is science fiction or fantasy, you tell them, “It’s ThunderCats!"

        "The End

Not every man knows what he shall sing at the end,
Watching the pier as the ship sails away, or what it will seem like
When he’s held by the sea’s roar, motionless, there at the end,
Or what he shall hope for once it is clear that he’ll never go back.

When the time has passed to prune the rose or caress the cat,
When the sunset torching the lawn and the full moon icing it down
No longer appear, not every man knows what he’ll discover instead.
When the weight of the past leans against nothing, and the sky

Is no more than remembered light, and the stories of cirrus
And cumulus come to a close, and all the birds are suspended in flight,
Not every man knows what is waiting for him, or what he shall sing
When the ship he is on slips into darkness, there at the end."

        Mark Strand

Judith Scott retrospective.

(via mental floss via Facebook)



Tuesday, December 02, 2014

pinchbeck engine

Navigating the Doomosphere.

"Already the tenth year was rolling on and old had grown the strain of war, insatiate of blood, for Trojans and Danaans. With slaying of men the spears were weary, the menace of the swords died, quenched was the din of breastplate, rent and perishing the coiled fabric of shield-carrying baldricks; the shield endured no more to abide the hurtling of javelins, unstrung was the bent bow, the swift arrows decayed..." --Mair's Tryphiodorus

Many Subtle Channels.

"The mind's disguise is permanence," --Rosalie Moore

"If our climate shifts suddenly and repeatedly, making the places we live successively inhabitable, maybe transition, adaptation and sustainability are more about our capacity to scavenge, to re-form relationships with ever-changing and ever-moving neighbours, to ask and share in the moment and then bundle up our loved ones and move on, than our capacity to create and build community in any kind of enduring place or durable form." --Dave Pollard

The Greatest.

(John Atkinson Grimshaw - Park Row, Leeds (1882) via I 1000 quadri più belli di tutti i tempi (Fb) via Michelle H.)