Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Денеб Альджеди

(via @MissMyrtle2 via @evan_greer via Hugh d'Andrade on Fb)

On Eichenberg's Poe.

"I have been described by you for hundreds of years. And now, I can describe you. That’s part of the panic.” - James Baldwin via @mailbykite

"There’s a lot going on there about the way whiteness leads people to seek their cultural identities in odd places; the way whiteness excuses and lends respectability to behavior that would otherwise be seen as abhorrent; and the way history can become myth.."

I notice the casual use of "zombie" as a vampire exonym in Jarmusch's Only Lovers Left Alive; elsewhere (The Language of Vampyr) they seems to use "puppet" (a word with many Ligottian overtones!).

Jazz & La La Land.

Which brings me to the Ido for Vampires movement. (Not to be confused with Elorathian.) And along the way i learned: "Upon its release in Europe, audiences booed Vampyr and yelled insults at it...Dreyer’s career was finished." (Very good--long--article.) Then (down another rabbit hole!): "The idea that Ruben Cerdan is behind Forgotten Languages is the general consensus, yes, but the sheer amount of autism put into this site is an entirely different level."

Meanwhile we can ask: what is it about Delta Capricorni, anyway? (The song.) Probably it's all about the Goat. Exoplanets & Capricorn constellation. Finally, i end up learning that Le Verrier never actually saw the planet he discovered.

The Ido word for "puppet" is pupeo.


Monday, February 27, 2017

everything else first

"When the chord of monotony is stretched most tight, then it breaks with a sound like song." --Chesterton

Closer Polaris.

    "Abraham Lincoln Walks at Midnight

(In Springfield, Illinois)

It is portentous, and a thing of state
That here at midnight, in our little town
A mourning figure walks, and will not rest,
Near the old court-house pacing up and down.

Or by his homestead, or in shadowed yards
He lingers where his children used to play,
Or through the market, on the well-worn stones
He stalks until the dawn-stars burn away.

A bronzed, lank man! His suit of ancient black,
A famous high top-hat and plain worn shawl
Make him the quaint great figure that men love,
The prairie-lawyer, master of us all.

He cannot sleep upon his hillside now.
He is among us:—as in times before!
And we who toss and lie awake for long
Breathe deep, and start, to see him pass the door.

His head is bowed. He thinks on men and kings.
Yea, when the sick world cries, how can he sleep?
Too many peasants fight, they know not why,
Too many homesteads in black terror weep.

The sins of all the war-lords burn his heart.
He sees the dreadnaughts scouring every main.
He carries on his shawl-wrapped shoulders now
The bitterness, the folly and the pain.

He cannot rest until a spirit-dawn
Shall come;—the shining hope of Europe free;
The league of sober folk, the Workers' Earth,
Bringing long peace to Cornland, Alp and Sea.

It breaks his heart that kings must murder still,
That all his hours of travail here for men
Seem yet in vain. And who will bring white peace
That he may sleep upon his hill again?"

--Vachel Lindsay

Trappist-1's worlds.

"Orion's soul hath many a headlong tide" --Horne

The Baroness's neologisms.

"There is no age so poor that it has not had its catastrophe." --Lafferty

On Trolls & Trolling.


Tuesday, February 21, 2017



"Oblivion's lucid-surfaced mystery" --Orion

Thich Nhat Hang weighs in.

    "After An Affair to Remember on the big screen"

the pacts we make
to stymie time & death
are three parts murk

the pacts we make
turn ricochet & mock,
bring riddling dearth

the pacts we make
to stymie time & death

Life and Adventures of Jack Engle.

"Of course much truth is stranger than fiction. Fiction has to seem plausible to be believed." --@JoyceCarolOates

The Ministry of Utmost Happiness.



The piers are pummelled by the waves;
In a lonely field the rain
Lashes an abandoned train;
Outlaws fill the mountain caves.

Fantastic grow the evening gowns;
Agents of the Fisc pursue
Absconding tax-defaulters through
The sewers of provincial towns.

Private rites of magic send
The temple prostitutes to sleep;
All the literati keep
An imaginary friend.

Cerebrotonic Cato may
Extol the Ancient Disciplines,
But the muscle-bound Marines
Mutiny for food and pay.

Caesar's double-bed is warm
As an unimportant clerk
On a pink official form.

Unendowed with wealth or pity,
Little birds with scarlet legs,
Sitting on their speckled eggs,
Eye each flu-infected city.

Altogether elsewhere, vast
Herds of reindeer move across
Miles and miles of golden moss,
Silently and very fast."

--W H Auden, via BLCKDGRD blog

The Gods Have Their Reasons.

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Monday, February 20, 2017

prince rebus


I dreamed there was a huge dead lion in the middle of the road.
Fearfully, i drove around it.

One thousand gifs.

"saucerorbs agog enorm" --The Baroness


     "...and sprigs
Of Cretan dittany, whose nodding spikes..."


Rim of Morning.

"Our government is running like a well-oiled Charlie Sheen." --@PattonOswalt

On Webwork.

"My granddaughter, a rebel general in the Water Wars, sits in disgust remembering when I would crack open a beer & laugh at memes." --@DothTheDoth

I Survived Bowling Green.

(via @NeinQuarterly)

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Monday, February 13, 2017

a richest grief

(via @SHINKAN34721410)

Thoughts on a strange day.

"An art that heals and protects its subject is a geography of scars." --Wendell Berry

Sue Coe reads.

(via @jeffreyford8)

"Having escaped
the gray parrots"


Jewish Maghrib Jukebox.

      "Oft when dawn
With a grave red looked through the ash-pale woods..."


Animal cafes.

(via @SHINKAN34721410)


Friday, February 10, 2017

delusions of the dodge fury

Chinese scifi thread.

"Boars cannot swim nearly as well as they imagine themselves able to." --R A Lafferty, Apocalypses (1977)


"One needn't be nearly as holy to pray for fog as to pray for rain." --ibid

Collectible cheetoh.

(via @SHINKAN34721410)


"Florida is California on a Troma budget." --Kelly Link


Tuesday, February 07, 2017

inexorable carousel

"Since the Dark Learning apparently did not involve any issues in real life, it was also known as the 'Pure Talk.' " --Luo Yuming

A blast from the past.

"The bow, that ne'er till now its glittering points
Bent back without recoil and whirring twang--"

--Richard Horne


Ghost riders. (via chuck taylor on fb)

"In his Orion review Poe castigated 'the cant of muddlepates who dishonor a profound and ennobling philosophy by styling themselves transcendentalists' (XI. 253)." --Harriet Holman, in Poe Studies

Gothic rock and death rock in DFW.

The music of hailstones.

"The colours of the outfits of three of the main characters, Alison, Gwyn and Roger was based on an older International Colour Code for electrical wiring (red, black and green)." --A Year in the Country blog

A long way from home.


Monday, February 06, 2017


Beyond the beautiful darkness.

"Pity is but half justice." --Kahlil Gibran

Cauliflower sans Merci.

"I survived the Bowling Green Massacre by hiding behind a Polybius machine when the first shots rang out." --@PattonOswalt

The literature of creepy clowns.

     “Annals of Thirst”

reprieve to reprieve
in halcyon sunlight creeping

yet nothing is clear:

A coast so full that the tale
    has happened

careening through the murk
i took an awful bump
for this to work
you gotta be a chump
i think I’m past the hump
when raucous rapids start
Lord Heffalump
is choking on a fart

to torture is a perk,
vasty empire’s slump
calls each to shirk
their turn at the stuck pump
i finger the myst’ry lump
under a pentacle tart
conundrums stump
the occidental heart

and now one wambly clerk
reels way too high to jump
our shapes Dunkirk
this aching at the stump
but not to be a grump
as ev’ry day’s new smart
gurgles the sump
of a phantom tumbril-cart

here in the klaxon’s blurt
king of the burning dump
with shackles girt
angles for a warped thump

Critique of Tunnel.

"Starfish, poinsettia on a half-tide crag,
a galliard by Byrd."

--Basil Bunting


Friday, February 03, 2017

unhappily sewn tux

Huber the Tuber.

"The Fool is like a fantastic dancing flare lighting up the features and furniture of the dark house of death." --Chesterton

Candle nub then.