y782

even among intelligent whonyms one doesnt converse about anything important anymore  if you try to talk about anything important whoever youre talking with quickly changes the conversation to sports or politics or gossip or the weather  some variation of da nooz   but everyones interiority has to stay locked up and the jailors society  for the soul  or what used to be called the soul  like what used to be called reality  is too much for the people to bearbare  so they can only talk about the denials of the soul  these effects of its repression  as it seeps ineluctably through thick old walls and forms the artifacts and procedures were forced to live within  though they live in purer and more potent form within us  and all our training and educations oriented toward learning how to converse about the repressions and make more repressions and have no idea how to relate to the forms of vital seething   of course you can pay 150 an hour for a shrink  you can whore it up like that and call it wellness  a little voyeured psychic orgasm in a strangers office  you can persist in talking with the whonyms after they try to shut you up and be deemed mad pretty quickly  you can go nuts and get locked up or drugged  you can suicide  that relief  you can carry on imaginary conversations more real than those other ones people call real or more real  with the few others whove managed to survive for a bit and write about this condition and whose words have survived and whose words youve found in the vast library of dumpster of book  and write some of these conversations down  which are typically ignored or if theyre not disdained   and all this it takes you a while to learn

take eg a magazine called frigid in which some idiot calling itself weal clown disdains h michaux who experiments his entire life with sniffing languages  in words and paint  for the universes of his interiority   does mish^oh succeed? thats not a question of the interior thats a question of your world  and all clown  who naturallys some young white prick  does of course is call mish oh a sadly disabled old man   but even the most incoherent babbling of the one who explores the interior smells is far more beautiful than the most coherent product of your chiseled enforced exterior  sterile dumps

 

infinitys a construct of mind and as mind exists and infinity exists in it so infinity exists and i orient myself toward these infinities and write about them   sadoo is this orientation

 

ı look in the mirror and know ım nuts  ı know ım nuts and that you havent caught ı yet  ım pleased by these two facts  two of the few facts ı think about that are worthy of meditation   its never been a question for ı not to be nuts   to believe in soul and to be obsessed with thinking and talking about soul is to be nuts   sadoos my nuts

characters & pages in novel

the question of how many characters there are in novel is similar to  it may be the same as  the question of how many pages in novel   does sadoo eg have one zero three twoninenine innumerable or infinite characters?  unsure   like pages it depends on how you count and if you count like me in words not numbers  who counts in numbers anyway?  which words do you include for words are persons too? and then do you count all the wordpersons not necessarily specifically mentioned but certainly referred and alluded to  all those hiding characters and pages who many infinite times outnumber those seeming not to hide? theyve said sadoos the first characterless novel but this is gross   its obviously just another novel that has too many   how do they relate these characters you ask we dont see marriages and deaths and fights and affairs and divorces and births and wars and morallessions and stompingsoff like in all those other novels we know that we call novels   ım not so sure   ı dont think youre looking carefully enough   in this paragraph alone eg ı count 912 stompingsoff and thats not even a close reading

 

anyway sadoo has at last count ı mean word at least threehundredandseventythree characters who are pages and i dont know how many pages who are characters so what does that do to everything?

 

each words a door  a door without frame rooms outside walls insides  so novels spaces comprised of frameless doors  each door only leading to other doors and writing or reading  lets call these activities combined for theyre never separate wrading and rriting  ıs  its pronounced eyes and its the last time were gonna tell you though weve told you its the last time before so no one believes anybody anymore   events of getting lost in moving among the endless openings

 

how many pages is novel? how many sadoo? only one page on the internet so one? no pages in digitalia so zero? infinite pages so any number? the numbers arbitrary? absent? pageless? numberless? is it thousands like un sacco di pensieri ou à la recherche du valentin perdu o dozens like le rêve et la vie oder dunkler frühling? sadoo strives to be wordless through an excess of words and its number any word you want

 

novel & anarchy

if i werent novel id be out with all the losers perverting government buildings and abattoiring abattoir executives but as all i need to refrain from joining them is my own country that you cant enter   ie in gin wolfs phrase a doom of my own  some heat and booze and light and food and booze  and ive got that now  i dont have to feel suicidalgenocidal all the time and instead get out soul in language  which is where soul was in the first place anyway  novel

its not that i believe in anarchy  or not that i believe in it more or less than anything else  and violence is so second millennium   but if we were the species i want us to be id believe in anarchy more than anything else and probably only in anarchy   heres a thing about anarchy  i used to know someone who always said heres the thing about ________   and i always used to think the thing? and sometimes the thing?  and occasionally the thing and the thing? theres no the thing   there may be nothing but theres no thething  how among all the infinite things does one pick out one thing and say the thing? and we havent even talked about about   i used to look at him yap and just wait for the thethings and if i really needed to stop from laughing id count them because everyone knows the thing about counting is that its not funny   anyway   heres a thing about anarchy   anarchys about notthething   there is no thething in anarchy  there are just many  even infinite  things   anarchy as everyone knows is without rule but also as everyone knows  which is a really stupid phrase and i hope i stop using it because who knows what everyone knows or what one and every and know even mean?  you cant really have withoutrule  but you can simulate it by swapping around the rulership so frequently  like a few times every few minutes  that theres effectively no ruler   in this sense the world has always been and cannot help but always be anarchic   theres the ruler of sadooickstan eg but sadooickstans ruled by novelostan and iistan and iistans ruled by voidystan and voidystan by sadooickstan and sadooickstan by its cat  and i whos ostensible ruler of iistans ruled by the question of what really rules which in turns ruled by questions which are ruled by nothing which is ruled by a varda   so you see how it goes   the whonyms who believe in democracy and tyranny and pooigarchy and theocracy are nuts   anarchy is the only operation and as this thought scares us we dont really talk about it

 

my alienations my intelligence

i become smart through your savage hostilities

weather & wither llc

weather & wither leather lithard lother

everyone talks about the weather  the weathers the only part of nature thats left  weather and sex  weather and sex and wellnessproducts  sex & wellnessproducts & gyms & weather   no ōvids killed gyms   sex and sex and sex and weather   so lets talk about weather

 

all im doing these pathetic days is looking at sex forecasts   i used to mock those who were devoted to the news and could only talk about the weather but now thats me   sex or weather always choose weather   we always turn into what we mock   its not that i find sex interesting other than that it sounds like whether and is close to wither werther wuther and wather  either what ive turned into or the principle of the mocker becoming the mocked or the weather   but where ıve flung the circus tent of my body now all there is is weather and so weathers become the pantheon of meaning  which it may very well have been for the whonyms i used to cock and it was just ı in my ignorance that was too callow to appreciate their depth and insight   you dont understand the sex here  the word asperous  which ım obsessed with this week  everyone needs a wordoftheweek obsession  was invented for what the sky does to the earth in this bed and fulfillment of the world

 

spilled medusa in neptunes maw

outback of an inshack

asperous duvet

softthick monster

forecasts as long as novellas  

 

where am ı? ım in asperokhstan where winds devour and fogs crush and rains feast on whonyms   where the official reports say its presently 8 degrees and mostly sunny and in fact its 0 raining and all you see out the window is a thick grey shapeless god   where the little asterisks the gov puts on days where theres a temperature anomaly are so frequent the only anomalys whats supposedly & falsely normal  where its 3 degrees for 80 hours straight then drops to -10 one afternoon and climbs overnight to +5   where if there arent gusts in the 60 to 100kmhr range you begin to think the world has ended   where its colder in march than it is in december and it snows a metre one day and melts two nights later   where freezing rain coats the surfaces of the city with scifi lipstick and the place is so hilly everyone tumbles everywhere and ım continually amazed so few whonyms are in wheelchairs   where you wakeup to foghorns and you know the oceans just waiting to open its maw and swallow this entire disaster into itself and announce to whoevers listening though no one is that no settlement should ever have been in this land of rocks and shaggy trees   this is sex to die for

chapter what might have been called chapter 9273

heres the title of my next chapter   i thought of calling it chapter 9273 but it was already taken so im calling it the year the world went nuts or rather the year the world manifest the nuts it already was and has always been and yea verily always will or rather yet another year the world manifest its nuts but in a distinctive or possibly distinctive way and next year the un  that un before undoing unhinging unleashing unraveling   a disunited nutting  has declared the year of fruits and vegetables   aside from the obvious objection as to why vegetables arent important enough to get their own year  even aubergines by themselves  and aside from the obvious confusion that no one really knows what fruits and vegetables are   and aside from significant doubts about an un having the authority or sanity to declare anything  why didnt they declare next year the year of nuts and nutser   they can just keep adding more nuts for each year to save them and us all the expense of deciding what to declare subsequent years and all the promotions   so that in a few years well all just know itll be the year of nuts and nutser and nutsiest and more nutsy and most nutsy nutsiest and nutarissimo and nutsarama and nutsalicious and nutseryiest and   of course theres the technical issue of the nomenclature and how exactly to form the nuts of the next year and i guess thisll require committees and promotions so im not sure were saving any money but at least itll be more honest though honesty doesnt exist   anyway thats the title of my next chapter

 

the moments of weakness  desperation  of despair

so pervasively environmental i cant move or stay still

what to do in the age of fruits and vegetables?

 

 

the livingdead the deadliving

we the living dead mock the dead living   we tell them we belong with the dead  the dead make more sense to us  the living are incomprehensible  their grammars inane   of course the dead living dont like this   we are the dead living they say and as life must be superior to death youre insanely wrong   but we the living dead know the very ancient codes maintain no such superiority and our mutual incomprehensibility and mockery and degradations are born from a false hierarchy thats been asserted and enforced by the whonym in its insecurity and now normalized in a society spread so thickly over the globe one cant see anymore the globe   come to us and well come to you we say   come to us and we wont come to you they say   we they them us he it theirs she ey em eirs airs errs

                                                

im trying to reach existence through nonexistence

and the paths to achieve this

while not wholly erased are difficult to find

unmapped

irregularly tortuous

 

little at all and most of that unhelpful has been written about the accumulating effects of living a mad life on the fated mad   part of the problem of course is that the mad innately are untaxonomizable and without access to systemization and generalization despite the categorical ruthlessness of the selfproclaimed sane  we shall henceforth sometimes call these ones the spss or sepsas  in attempting to do just that though all they do is taxonomize their own projections and psychoses   so how then does one write when the task itself seems unwritable? well certainly we can write  however incoherently  about the attempt to write the unwritable  which is what all writing is probably anyway 

 

we the living dead  the mad  the nonexistent  the erased

 

 

droney dump & oh bomb ah

how can an empire with a currency promoting in god we trust and founded on manifest destiny and a religion that includes in its dogma things like immaculate conceptions  cosmic aliens who love whonymity  binary afterlives for the faithful and sinning  object to a segment of its population promoting irrational narratives? arent dumpy and its fringe followers a consequence of our delusions?

amerika remyth yourself

amerika remyths yourself

amerika remyths yourselves

amerikas remyths yourselves

ramythika remere          

 

every nen and thow we find ourselves vaselining into your reality and flailing in the hashhoppers and dopebuggies of being and nilbeing and demibeing and the moores demi & michael and anabeing  ah ana being how i remember you in the quad pissing on the juniper tree  and all the other forms of being too tiresome to right now here be

 

even we sadaroos are necessitated by the horrible forces that yank us from the privy of imagination to the sewer of society to comment or discomment on current events although as any mystic knows every event is current and this our exuberant and acedic overwhelment

 

lets first acknowledge we despise droney dump   as a specimen of whonymity it isnt   as a model of anything it is but no model we want modelled   yet its in this isnt and is and their blurrings that various unacknowledgings arise

 

whonyms of whatever tripe or pallor tend to be routinely amateurish at spiritual mathematix  the ground and breath of all maths  so that whonym x encounters whonym q and experiences what it thinks are attributes k and e  at least it names what it thinks such  and reaches some conclusion  this is typically done in those netherregions outside of reason and consciousness  not dissimilar to  when k and e are coexistent then attribute d is also present   and then when q rather than exhibiting d when expected exhibits instead l x is disillusioned or angry or flabbergasted or in rarer cases in love

 

so analogously in the dd fiasco whonyms whether on or against dds side think   those against frequently conclude either directly or in roundabout ways or in the outhouses of their minds dumpys bad but oh bomb ah was good and dumpys bad but we are good as if many of the more acute insights from whonyms once stuck in history never existed   collectively persisting in the most egregious whonym delusion that nature doesnt exist in its awhonymic questioning or if it does it isnt as it is massively independent of us even while we vainly attempt to eradicate it

 

lets look firstly at what dumpy does for the people including how it nurtures their nights and whonyms if we know anything  regardless of their dogmas  need their nights

none of this doubting vindicates dumpi

but doubting vindicates nothing

and none of us are vindicated

the book of questions questions

 

so if rumpy did all this in art  that simulation of simulation  it might be worthy in the words of simulation  as it would then necessarily subvert itself and action would collapse  but because it does in life what should be circumscribed in and born from art it fails   its these shapes and movements the people miss  their ignorance of the costs and principles of true iconoclasm   theyre right that oh bomb ah is hardly an iconoclast  but theyre wrong that dumpso is any more of one

 

this concatenation of assemblages  these nurturings of nights  provide a singular focus  a rarity  and good and bad  dumpies and antidumpies  remocrats and depublicans  each according to its kind  desire above all else the rare

 

the line according to the antidumpies as far as it goes is that barracks oh bomb ah and his descendant yo bidet and kalamata heiress are far better suited for such a distinguished role as the presidency of the disunited hates of amerikanaaah   far better leaders   and sadoos would mostly concur if by this we mean they more fully are aligned with whats required for sufficient management of the system in place  the given that surrounds   but that this system is unmanageable and the compromises required to sustain it unsustainable  this can only lend any virtue to bombys cause for those whose thinking is as flawed as those they criticize

 

is moderation in an excessive system something to praise?

 

trust in an articulate truth and a particular narrative and a real reality and a common purpose and an impossible honour

oh falstaff who thrones unacknowledged in our souls

 

whether of dumpy or oh bomb ah you have faith in empire  hope in amerika first  love of the confidence game of democracy   this faith and hope and love unites opponents   the obsession with name and hierarchy and pomp unites

 

if droney yawny dumpy has any asset its to show how much we  even those who technically oppose him  want to drive fast  how were all in death together

 

bidet may be cliché

& dump may appear to the illiterate to break the cliché

dump may be necessary according to those psychohistorical algorithmic postulates but then so may bidet and the ass knows bidet comes after dump in time

who gets excited by any of this?

 

each oh   ddoh & bomboh are novels

this wee antinovel in the antinovel sadoo about two novels

its novels & antinovels all the way down

 

but you say  this is dangerous  to mix novel and antinovel  fact and faction  news and entertainment  auschwitz and dumbanddumber   although sadoo might say its not the mixing  its how you mix and if you mix well  auschwitz and dumbanddumber stop existing  not as historical events but as historical possibilities

 

oh bomb ah appears to nuance according to a specific clichéd genre  but because the genres clichéd it actually doesnt nuance but strips nuance according to the dictates of an expected narrative which includes the faith in autohagiographization   rumpoh also strips nuance but does so phrasefully yet is nuanced through the art of contradiction  it equally autohagiographizes but because it does so overtly rather than covertly socalled progressives demonize it  yet this is no different than catholics accusing protestants for their marketing methods or academics critizing undegreed peons for their different thinking  these differences differences of method and religion and not virtue or spirit

 

is the question and its dispute

how quickly should we drive click fuck pray kill love eat shop tweet to the apocalypse?

 

so what are we objecting to? of course dumpy but there are many cogent voices already doing that   so in addition to objecting to dumpy were also questioning any corollary virtue or nonobjection to those objecting including naturally sadoo  any binarism between the socalled evil and the socalled good  any disrecognition that even the socalled good or competent are necessarily operational within infrastructures and processes pervasively cancerous murderous unjust   any disrecognition that scorn of one party hardly must praise alternatives   any disrecognition that dumpys been great for the powered antidumpologists  bolstered their power  made them look far too righteous in contrast   any disrecognition that we all participate in manufacturing dramatic situations and the production of appositive situations  any abstraction or decontextualization between the orientations of dumpy and the orientations of a society we all participate in  a society that itself is abstracted decontextualized sensational supremacist in myriad ways including that most insidious one of species  violent whether this violence is direct illegal physical or legal laundered virtual linguistic

 

are our obsessions with whim card assian  taylor tool  oh bomb ah  deleuzion  aubrey graham & rebanna  or whowhonymever disconnected from the brouhaha we say we despise? are we not bound together in a project that nothing strategic & sensible would admire?

 

and to close but not to close  back to spiritual mathematix  the crux of the issue  an arrogance of etiology  a reification of geometry

 

you find my thoughts jumbled?

ı find your thoughts jumbled

or rather ı find them ordered within a system

that requires a massive project of projecting jumbledness

 

fiction is not the same as fiction
reality not the same as reality

not to honor whonyms of worth will keep the people from contention

 

a very real thing were objecting to in dumpy is history which in another very real sense is ourselves         just look how fascinated so many of the antidumparians have been by the antics of the dump         if they were really antı shouldnt theyve been reading aim us tootooola or demıly ıckınson   truly giving evidence they have lived other values rather than binding themselves in time and energy to the very forces they claim to deny?

so of course we celebrate to the extent were still capable of celebrating dumpys demise and hardly discelebrate the new air and airess but neither can we celebrate them

in an environment where only a very few hoard the names power wealth fame  how can we trust a media that on the one hand denounces dumpi and on the other continues to sustain and promote the system that produced him   only through a schizophrenia which society projects on the few who assume the curses of society in their bodies

 

so we apologize  to ourselves  for this jumbled irrational and tedious yanking  and we return to our hovel of constructive oneiricism and our cave of questions

i write this with my own irrationality

and not the irrationality of empire

signed on sadooday in sadoo

blessed are we who seem to be losers

performance enhancing drugs

you see   although you probably dont which isnt to say i dont which reminds me of a religion i started once whose center was a suburban basement full of goats  the status and responsibility of cosmic deity rotated among the goats according to algorithms not dissimilar to those of the pawukon calendar with the exception of a mottled grey goat named worship wazzooo who had been excused from the high role by a series of cunning manoeuvrings reminiscent of the renowned kasparov vs topalov 1999 match perpetrated by strategists suspected but rarely named   athletes are disqualified from competing if they use performance enhancing drugs but novelers  you cant write a novel without drugs   and what competition are noveloos in anyway? noveloos can use drugs because they dont compete  at least not quantitatively

 

how antinovel disdains magnificently novel as novels just reconstituted da nooz  like fresh oranges and reconstituted orange juice novel takes da orange and cuts it up in tiny bitz and takes da bitz and processes it in its big big factory and pushes it down with big big machines and all you have to do is add water and bamo whamo  novel   but antinovel blows up da factorium and instead of sucking oranges gets sucked into da ornj and ornj chewz up yooz n nooz in its weewee antifactory and yoo go on infinite journey into many outer spaces and pesto messtoe  antinovel

 

silly is da novel

& silly is da antinovel

& silly is da whonym

& silly is da nooz

 

aunty novel says ı writes novel but antıı wrıtes antinovel   antıı a chıld of nıght and darkness says ı belıeve but if you ask ıt what ıt belıeves ıt says ı belıeve and you say but dont you antıbelıeve? thinking yourself smart and antıı says ı antıbelıeve and you ask ıt what ıt antıbelıeves and ıt says            and this goes on for a long time        

oh logorrheusia please end this endless stream

of fragmented nonsense

and let us return to the acedic poetry of waiting

it will be over soon wretched child

over soon

you must see it to its mad end

 

this is novel this isnt novel

this is novel

you wake up one day and think im tired of everybody owning me and telling me what to do and having my potential curtailed by the system so you run away and the freedom feels like coitus and after 10 or 20 years youve finally realized  after countless humiliations and pains  that all youve done is shift your allegiance from one energy to another  from one that pays well to one that doesnt  from one that feeds your ego to one that doesnt  from one where travel lovers opportunities are endlessly available to one where everyone shuns you   and you wake up again one day and think again all ive done is changed bosses and you either think youre an ass if you actually respect your former boss more now  either from nostalgia or suffering  essentially youre broken and probably are suiciding in any of the 1000001 ways to suıcıde  at whatever speed  or you think a bunch of other things which you attempt to transmute into something else more interesting than the thoughts and this attempt is an example of why you ran away in the first place though there is no first place

that isnt novel

 

im only alıve in novel   you say you say though novels all there is and everything is novel so then arent you alive everywhere even in death?   yes perceptive unreader this is very true   but theres novel and then theres novel in and behind novel  its novels all the way down   so only in novel am i alive and yet in the novelhead im always alive   but you say you say though its bottomlessnesses all the way down   yes unperceptive deunreader this is very true and they both are true for novels and bottomlessnesses are the same but dıverge ın name as they ıssue forth  beıng the same they are called darkness  darkness upon darkness  the gateway of the manıfold secrets

 

plagiarism excursion

the skullarly team of skullars sentence sadoo and all its subsidiaries and cohorts to zero and zeros forever and ever without recourse or appeal and we meet with you and your mother though your mothers dead and the dead too can weep and we write many many zeroes and we say no no and we force the straightjacket of citationality on you and zeroness upon zeroness the fateway of the assifold egress

 

there are those who are eternally sad because they have the fault of loving life too much and they long to enter the commons but cannot because to enter would for them mean betraying the commons   they are the people who encounter the commons by restraining themselves from entering and they are the ones we call noveloos   they long to speak the language of the commons but the language required for their restraint consumes them and its this latter language thats novel and why they cannot accept the common designations and often go mad

 

let us move into the space of reason

the reason of novel

which is no reason

let us move into the space of reason that is no reason that is novel

yes

let us measure the movement

but how shall we measure the movement when there is no reason

let us use the other measure

ah  the one given us by the faceless one who visited on the nameless day in the space thats never found its way onto any map

yes

but that measure has no measure

exactly the sort of measure required to measure what weve arcked

unmeasure for unmeasure  thats the exhaustion

 

novel to be novel doesnt have to be literary but it has to above all else be spırıtual for literature is a construct of society and particular dominant aspects of society at that  and so solid  but spırıt is sımply a bıologıcal function  rooted breath raised to the heavens  breath made word and word made novel  and so gaseous & very gassy

 

novels best if like virtue it doesnt know itself  if it doesnt even think it exists but its here  youll say but look at you  novels knowledge of itselfs everywhere and you call it novel   well i call it antinovel   but is ıt and do ı? what youre calling knowledge is doubt and ı call nothing but novel calls ı and what ıt calls ı ıs a question of the name