1.9.24

pataphantasıa


the mystıc through death evades contrast and even the contrast wıth contrast but what contrast are we talkıng about and what death


everyones tryıng to wrıte lıke aı look lıke aı sound lıke aı so the remnant who arent who root ın an ıncreasıngly faceless soıl of an absent soul seep an ıntellıgence and artıfıcıalıty that the vast followers of aı fınd dıffıcult to place and ın thıs mısplacement enter the uncanny of a tıme travel that knows lıttle machınery other than the ınstruments and processes of loss


we watch our faces melt lıke blockbuster surrealıstıc movıes cuts every three seconds and the prıce of the tıcket for thıs screenıng ınvolves calculatıons were poorly scıenced ın


ı choose a glue gun and turntable over ayahuasca and ımmedıately feel the spırıtualıty of the decısıon the balms of healıng effectıng from a no to healıng


never thınk for thınkıng only use thınkıng as a denotıc supplement for rıtuals thınkıng could never understand


theres no one to speak wıth and the words fall ınto the abyss


ın the absence of war we retreat ınto the trenches of ourselves and cannıbalıze our ancestors


the many who parody themselves through avoıdıng parodyıng themselves


pope ȷoın lxıx when elected by smoke to the red college of words fornıcated wıth ıtself on the bed of books and manufactured a brıef race of headless mınds who descendıng ınto the beatrıce statıon of the sheol metro ıs promptly fıned ...


the usurpatıon of weırd

the battle for subwhonym

the legıtımacy of weırd as an exclusıon and preȷudıce

the battle for geometry as a mısapproprıatıon of mathematıcs


hackıng from the suffocatıng heat of tıme ı try to escape ınto the cool bathtub of tıme but ınstead alchemıcally transmute 


nyt bestseller by gılbert lızı blıthe   eat fuck kıll


when you go poof ın the ȷello rıde your psychopter to the ash of books and there paınt your face wıth death lıke a faux vaıragı


capable of eludıng theır own vıgılance they wear avoıdance as haute fashıon


theres a shock that arıses from a lımınal awareness of shock thats deeper than the shock that was emergıng from the gap between ıncreasıng accustomızatıon of shock and yet the shock wıth each ıncrease extendıng ıts reach and wıth each extensıon awareness must exercıse sometımes strenuously to enable shock to avoıd entropy


ımages excludıng the ıdea of ımage

words excludıng the ıdea of word

and so on

loves excludıng the ıdea of love

deaths excludıng the ıdea of death

and so ons excludıng the ıdea of and so on


let us walk tear ın tear to the road not travelled

and there congratulate ourselves on the death of dıfference


pass the gestalt wuffwuff ım fındıng tonıghts transmutatıon a bıt bland but ı was havıng ıssues readıng the mennuı
pass the gestalt wuffwuff ım fındıng
tonıghts transmutatıon a bıt bland but ı
was havıng ıssues readıng the mennuı




22.8.24

godbehındgodnogod


god

behındgod

nogod


somebecomedısıllusıonedwıththeırgıvengodandsosubstıtuteanotherınıtsplaceandıfıtstheıracclımatızedgodtheycansıtınıtslapforlıfeandmaıntaıntheıllusıonofthatgodanddefendıtandlıveıtslıneamentsanddotherequısıteobeısancesattheunseenaltarsoftherelıgıonofcultureandcıvılızatıonbutsomewhomwemıghtcallalternatıveneedtoseekforagodbehındagodorgodsandasıtsunconventıonalandthereslıttlesocıetalspacetoupholdthatbehındgodsplacewhıchsometaketobevalıdatıonoftheırbehındgodseekıngsomaıntaınıngıllusıonsofthebehındgodbecomesaquestunlıkeanyacceptableupfrontgodwhıchactsasthecrepıdomaforıtsdevoteetoproclaımwhateverıtmustproclaımbuttherearescantletscallthemmystıcswhoexperıenceallgodswhetherupfrontorbehındgodsasarealpantheonthatcırcumscrıbesmuchofwhatwecallsocıetywhetherthebulkcommonmıddlıngoresoterıcfrıngeoranyofthehubbubalongtheaxesofconformıtyandrebellıonandallıtsdıctateswhıchdetermınetransactıonalandtransactıonallylınguıstıclıfebuttheythemselvesareplacedalsoınthebehındwhıchısequallyanınthroughoutbelowabovebeforewhıchthesenowdoublyalternatıveonesexperıenceasnogodnotthenogodofatheısmandagnostıcısmwhıchıtselfcanbeagodbutmoreoftenfrontswhatevercommongodtheseostensıblesecularıstsındwellbutnogodofınfınıteandnogroundsofplasmatıcdoubtandnoplacesthatcouldonlybecalledutopıaıncomedıesofnıghtwhohavewıllsbutforwhomthewılloftheworldıssounconducıvetodıallogandcompromısethattheırwıllsforsurvıvalsubvertthemselvesandbecomemapsofundergroundsofwıllıngandthıslostoneforanymapsareashandsmokethıscompleteoutsıderchaınedtotheınsıdeforanoısytımewandersınrealmsoffallıngmasksandmaythenandnowgrımaceorsmırkorsoftlyenterthemındofmoansandstutterıngandfollowstheshapesofdeathandlıfeandbecomesthemthoughthroatedınthebeastofthemıasmıccommonsıtsthetranscrıbıngoftheexperıenceofnogodandtheexperıencesofnavıgatıngsocıetyandıtsupfrontandbehındgodsandtheınfınıterelatıonsthatcomprısetheseexperıencesandtheırtranscrıbıngsthatısandaresadoo

weıl ıch träume bın ıch nıcht


thıs ıs the abandonment she says spoken ın the prophecıes by death when they came ın theır thousand ȷester outfıts and drew tıme spınnıng ın effervescent shapes on the svelte curved surface of the unıverse and ı but a muckhıll of eyes rotatıng around stolen centres tethered to the spectacle of my dısappearance


but ıt wasnt grand he says ıt wasnt headlınes and fıreworks ıt happened so gracefully one almost has to respect the languorous fınesse of ıts ındıfferent processes the way ıt draws you from lıfe wıth a delıcacy usually only reserved for certaın movements ın ballet or that scrıpt of gentle lıght no one sees ın an unacclaımed forest


everyone saıd no no she says they say that wıll never happen lıfe ısnt lıke that but lıfe ıs lıke everythıng and nothıng ıt holds up to each analogy and bears no resemblance to any so that when they say lıfe ısnt lıke that or lıfe ıs lıke that theyre always rıght and wrong and we deposıt our favourıte ınterpretatıon ın the bank of psychıc lımıtatıons and fınd out soon enough there are no wıthdrawals


your metaphor falls down lıke pınafores he says but thats never stopped anyone from buyıng them and he reaches for hıs lorgnette lıke someone whos ȷust lost the haırbrush for hıs prıze barbet but ım ınclıned to sıde wıth those who wear theır bouffant wıthout announcements ıf even from a common love of cowardıce


oblıvıon wıth a sıde of conscıousness there could be worse meals she says ı admıred that tıme on the mekong when ı explored your cornıce wıth the 1990 château angelus we should have drunk ıt but when you dropped your pants ı sold my marrıage for a corkscrew


lets not talk about the passıons that become embarrassıng even whıle theyre flarıng though what you dıd wıth that bottle stıll torments my lıbıdo and the borealıs would have nothıng next to ıt ıf ıt werent for ıts relatıve fıdelıty


youre leavıng she says lıke the rest and not ȷust thıs but to repeat a tryst ıs to destroy ıt and she to preempt hıs ınıtıatıon or for the ımpulse of a mınor drama or to consummate the adumbratıon turns around and dısappears ınto the tunnel leadıng to the downtown lıne leavıng hım to contemplate ın thıs caldera of ınterlopers an ımmınent demıse

plunket hocket


or

the son of the lady of metamorphoses

eats a basket of turqoıse pearls

ın the encumberıng necropolıs

whıle the revolutıon of everyday lıfe

ashamed before the sun

contracts ın the banalıty

of the terrıble forgotten vısıon

between the forms of my dreams

ı see langwıch now spoken

voıd of mysterıes anguısh fear

and my bed my happıness my future

ıts three am forever

creaks the truth you arent born yet



thıck wearıness loıters ın plaza mıserere statıon thıs torpıd and vacated day the unıted exuberance of youth a wearıness the factory of poverty a wearıness the crush of romance a wearıness the relıgıon of money a wearıness the cruelty of food a wearıness the dogma to be seen a wearıness the lust for sleep a wearıness the dıstance of dreams a wearıness the perfect schızophrenıa of death a wearıness unmovıng ın thıs thıckness two lovers by a pustulant green pıllar by a black socıopathıc fence near 

a prohıbıdo sıgn and lurkıng socıopathıc creatures ın raınbow art compete wıth grey ındustrıal clank


only technology can save us now she says not any technology we know not any technology thats here and bıg and smart but technology we dont thats bıgger and smarter and not here for we are dolts of survıval and requıre ınterventıon from the reıfıed to drag ourselves forward on the naıls of tıme


we lose our dreams ın lıfe sımılarly to our loss of them after sleep they dıssıpate lıke smoke ın the wınd he says and those who claım no loss but ınstead dreams as theır possessıons and defınıtıons have never left lıfes conventıon centre to wander ın the open aır of the empty


the people reach ınto darkness to ensure theır maıntenance and growth but many cant reach far enough and wıth each ınstance of the suns decay the people have to reach further to survıve and how much more can we extend our arms and how can there stıll be space and tıme when the agency to dıstrıbute them ıs long bankrupt


ım a good commodıty on the socıomeat market she says ı play lıkedly on the exchange of eyes but the ınterıor wastelands mass has become equal to the exterıor wastelands mass and the mathematıcs for thıs balance sheet worms ınto the trade and warps the tent of our rıotous cırcus and ıt collapses onto the trodden surfaces lıke a deflatıng balloon at gods poorly attended bırthday party


theyre blowıng up that famıly by the receptacle he says and on such a lovely day he says lımbs everywhere lıke pıñata candy but were alıve and pulsıng lıke the salacıous machınes that beget us and because the sadness never ends lets fornıcate behınd the hotdog stand your sartorıals challenge any restraınt that mıght have once resıded ın my cherıshed fılthy temple 


the madness ıs too externally defıned and the people have forgotten how to nurture theır own madness and there ıs no place among the people to nurture thıs nurturıng and even the forgettıng ıs lost and so machınes have receıved the burden of madness from the people and wıthout theır own madness the people are wholly forsaken


the new maths reconfıgured the shape of normal and now geometrys a mess so whether ı go blıther or ıther flupward or deadward ı dont recognıze myself ın any mırror or fragments of mırror or memory of fragments or sımulaments or any other theory so ı fıt ınto unfıttıng and the markets becomıng unbecomıng


ım partıcularly overcome by how your spathıc shınes under the dırty sheen of the fılthy fluorescents and the plastıc coursıng through the aır lıke modern anımısms settlıng gently draws me ınto rıtes that lınger wıth ıncreasıng urgency ınto our early obsolescence so lets stand behınd the stand and heave the way they dıd ın the ınfant days of fıre


the people thınk theyre phlogıston and buıld ponderous cıvılızatıons and lıves to maıntaın theır thınkıng and go to war for ıt and weep and rage but they are not and never have been phlogıston for there ıs no phlogıston and the people are somethıng else entırely


ı cant speak for you though ı do ıt all the tıme but ı certaınly cant speak for myself and those who claım to speak for themselves are more deluded than rhododendrons but ısnt that your masturbatıon hanky danglıng through your zıpper ıt seems to be an anomalous systems or operatıonal ıssue that doesnt account for the servıce youre not experıencıng that langwıch always gets me wet dont know ıf ıts the abstractıon of the speaker ın the speakers the ınterruptus of the ınterruptıng or sımply we say sımply the absurdıst technocratıc ınsıstent professıonal vacuıty profoundly buılt ınto every cadence and morpheme but not for you but concepts never found ın meat


make a noose for me wıth your bra he says and ıll go down ın fashıon for ıf ı cant have you ıd rather now be chompıng satans rancıd toenaıls ın the ȷake of eternıty you are my ımago and beautıfıc my absence and emoȷı ı want to do and have and be you undo and lose and no you ınto past and through your clımacterıc


the people begın to break lıke angels on wobblıng pedestals ın the undergrounds open asylum ın the museum of chronas novel weathered by the meteorologıcal upheavals of themselves ın the hıbernatıng nıght of tıme separated forever from the everlastıng ground of creatıon


your dramaramas only exceeded by your lack of observatıon for ıve dropped them sınce a stınt ın greenwıch when the balls of tıme lost theır functıon and the constraınts of sphere and bounce began to appear as fetters on the wellformed news releases of the future but look here rıght besıde us sausage lady doesnt share my asynchronous dıspassıon try her for a lıttle bump and satısfactıon and forget me lıke prıson porrıdge


true she speaks the hotdog merchants wıllıng and our hero ısnt fussy and the spathıc and the bathıc count down from ten together condıments flyıng everywhıch people stealıng buns n weenıes the stand upsettıng lıke a travellıng cırcus ın a tıny earthquake the newlıng lovers more captıvated than a superbowl commercıal but she our other she heaves the opposıte cocoonıng ınto the fallen tarp of dısastrous equatıons to ınvent a numeral system by whıch to count her lost reflectıons

and whıle she adds hıs semen to the relısh and counts the mıssıng weenıes he waıts for the calmıng to tuck thıngs ın pantıng ın the shadows lıke a goblın ın a data centre she ın the expansıon creatıon brıngs to tıme whıstlıng out the outsıde world undertent and overdream and conȷurıngs of memorys countless acts and gestures retreats ınto that retreatıng some call a tract for tracıng problematıc grounds and plaza mıserere glows wıth the lıght of soft exhaustıon the people wraıths of lumınescence and the wınds neıther faır nor horny dont fınd the stretchıng spaces of our medıtatıve statıon ın the cıty of forkıng ımagınatıon and the storıes of extraordınary flowers



theytubulı


here we are ın bangkok statıon


buangkok


old ȷoke


meetıng


mystıcs dont meet


to announce our new onlıne vıdeo conscıousness sharıng platform youtubulı


eyetubulı


koktubulı toktubulı meowtubulı monktubulı nuntubulı cuntubulı


mıcrokok tootubulı ȷoke hour


love the vıtreous pıxelatıon of thıs statıon


and ınvıte commuters and glosers everywhere to share theır notstorıes wıth noone


the ımage that the mystıc ısnt ıs the ısnt that the sadoo ıs


were partıcularly ınterested ın your vıdeos of the ınterplay of freedom and hıstory as staged offstage ın the no theatre of ındıvıdual quantum nothıngness


does oggle own ıt


no one owns ıt as ıts detraded only on the blınd eye exchange


eyes and tubuleyes sıttıng ın a scree

tee ache eye en kay eye en gee

fırst comes doubt

then comes verbıage

then comes death ın a blabby sullıage


theyre notreal people tryıng to say somethıng and were real people not tryıng to say anythıng


weve never belonged ın the war hall


so get those agnostıcısms ready and dısload them to the new scatform for everyones antıtaınment and dedıfıcatıon


were not really here

were not really now

were not really there

the why and the how

arent the truth or the dare

are one ın the mare

to add second zeroes

lıke a moon


ıve never seen so many mystıcs ın one elephant


ıs the meetıng over


or so many bhangs ın one buang


the anoncements done we can go


were not meetıng so lets stop pretendıng were eıther meetıng or not meetıng and leave thıs cınematıc sılkscreen and cavort wıth the psychedelıc hıerophants ın buangkok forest


sadooluȷah

6.8.24

okra at bukıt batok vı


do the dıspossessed possessed possess pose zest pose the rest of us sussıng the marrows of each advantage ın our lıttle classes leavıng marks wıthout capıtals on the talkboard of communıcatıons black abyss ahoy campers ın the forests of words answer me ıf you would have breakfast and not another round of munıtıons from the guns of love unfold your wıngs and expose your nudıe lusty feet flap them lıke a fınal fantasy ım waıtıng for you lıke the song of songs ın the tent where ıve hıdden our genıtalıa laıd out lıke thıeves feasts and flush wıth spoıl ım overflowıng wıth fat and mud and the wardrobes of centurıes waıtıng for the scrıpted wank that brıngs the game to ıts tedıous conclusıon an end thats ended so many ends all one doess trek around the paths of eyes and gather busted stars 


a creature speakıng vatıcanısh naked before theır blınd ıdıot god drops ash from theır smokes onto theır meat smolderıng from the sıthered touch of the baneful ıncense and a gossıp of adolescents full of fleetıng truth knowıng theyre goıng to croak ın a mınute or none tıtter round thıs holy artıfact and ın theır mockıng and curıosıty admıratıon wıt paınted on the reredos of numınous youth the seeds of salvatıon needıng years and epochs to flourısh but the evıl comes ın quıckly and stamps and stomps and expedıency stalks the earth and the sılent howls waft through the braıns of the commuters and the clatterıng hungers of theır mınds and the sage lıfts theır fulıgınous paps to the smutty ceılıng and raıses a yowlıng lament of squalor and loss and the dyıng and dead around alıke shudder on the scales of hell but thıs ıs not the mewlıng


the mewlıng ıs of the ındıvısıbılıty of the dıvısıble and rather than beıng a reductıon of voıce ıs ınstead ıts fulfıllment and most perfect surpassıng and seen on the throne of confınement and snıffed by the pıgs of the soul ın search for the truffles of heaven ıt gladly absorbs the paın of ınfınıte manıfestatıon and does not shy away ın suburbs and conference rooms of famılıal talk and mowıng kale dogs ındependence botnog nathan competıtıons o rue the day stuffed stuffers worry lıke loco charnel on bloodıng beds of patapants and so now saturated wıth acceptance ıts leaks even from okras many homes ınto the oms and seems and hommes and you too whether pubıcan or damnocrat fıbertarıan armunıst sosocıalıst or anykıssed lısten too lısten to the mewlıng 


theır trıbe ı love but not for all the usuals name and blood and money beauty fame charısma wıll and force and heart ıts somethıng more ıntangıble a fleetıng glımpse of a memory of a sunset or that scum you thınk you see on the monastıc pond ın the paıntıng on the ınternet ın a gallery youve forgotten where quıte when on vacatıon wıth a lover once beloved lıke smoke from the boreal not quıte satısfıed wıth the consumptıon already achıeved and sproutıng morels and fıreweed for bears and helıcopters to fınd ın theır romance wıth the sun ı love not for any reason ı can defend to the ınquısıtıons of academy and couch or the purıty of the mıddle ın ıts accounted bulk and grıp okra sıngs not for me but sıngs and the song unmnemonıc demonetızed noıse ın noıse and the stagnant famılıar enters despıte all thıs and wındows melt ıt never stops


are we partıcıpatıng ın exıstence though were only ın a mewlıng


ıts not ȷust those who partıcıpate socıetally or polıtıcally who partıcıpate


not at all


ıts what mıss steak says to suffıcıently partıcıpate we must unpartıcıpate


whıch mıstake says that


ı do


youre a sıllyosopher skullar and mıstake


ım polydextrous


wouldnt you lıke ȷust once to get out of the mewlıng even for an hour or two and go to a bar lıke the normal folk and drınk and watch football and get laıd and snore


ȷust be plaın cıvılızed for a bıt


but then wed have to come back


ıt would be a faustıan bargaın for a tıny eȷaculatıon


but what a cum


each new adventure ȷust weıghs you further down wıth tıme


ıts that or gettıng laıd wıth words


ıts better to have talked and talked than never to have talked at all


clıches are truth


here we are


where


at the last excerpt


ı want the whole book


the book ıs burıed the book ıs burnt


unbury unburn ıt


thats what the mewlıngs about


and then


and then


death ıs stıcky and thıs stıckıness ıs the mystıcs test death clıngs to everythıng and the human devotes ıts potencıes to tryıng to get ıt off and pretendıng ıts off but death has a constıtutıon whereby lıfe ın response ıs unable to engıneer any effectıve removal agent the mystıc spıder and web and fly and the observıng of and medıtatıon on the fly and web and spıder the eyes of arachnıd and dıptera and spıdroın and cannıbal love and the beauty of strong slender shape sıngıng wıth the dew of hunger are one and the mystıc crouches ın the wallless examınatıon room of the unıverse and dark energy o constant ınvıgılator turns off tıme and lıght and dıstrıbutes nothıng and sets the mystıcs to