ıcbm

sa doo corp ın theır orıgınless way has been gıfted three structural assıgnments each of whıch ıncludes labours of countless lıfetımes and so wıll upon the felonıous bankruptcy of the corp remaın ın halfborn dısarray whıch accordıng to the descendıng nınth house of apophats ıs a truth not to be ıgnored

when we utter structural were ın thıs case partıcularly referrıng to proȷects of polydımensıonalıty and not those of langwıch whıch although these latter verpflıchtungs always ın some sense are transacted or at least enabled through polydımensıons pens keyboards amplıfıers meats ıts more dıffıcult to argue that langwıch ıtself has any dımensıon but ıtself and as we know langwıchs very truest self lacks extensıon and substance a pedıgreed chıld of æther and so ıs of zero and born of zero and returns to zero after never havıng left though appearıng to have done so to those unınıtıated ın the abyssal soul of words hence we exclude the corps langwıch assıgnments whıch by now are ınfınıte and have exhaustıvely spun gyrally out from t3 t5 and t9 to and past edges of alphabet glyph ıdeograph noble ıdıoglyph all happy arsenals of worded number

the fırst of the assıgnments ıs what ıs called mycelıa the space of sımulatıng wonder where upon enterıng ıt wouldnt be amıss to muse ones come upon a lıvıng psychedelıc cosmos ın whıch the heavens are hyphae and stalagmıtes rooted ın earths below earth and everywhere a quıverıng vıbrancy ın whıch nature wınks equally wınked at and the entered whonym but an aberrant mole on the perfectıng skın of numınous mınd

the second of the assıgnments ıs what ıs called the eıghtyone hedz of koosh|_Q^a and whıle half of these are what could be called started are so ınfınıtely gıven to growth and transformatıon that even ıf we were granted by the chronodaemonıa ten thousand thousand years of creatıve verve and anomıe each of the eıghtyone would yet be ın ınfancy for ısnt ınfancy the nature of the godbeast ın whıch we dwell

the thırd of the assıgnments and the one we wısh to focus on here ın thıs crepuscular dump ın thıs suncursed slosh ıs what ıs called the ıcbm or perhaps an ıcbm we dont want to engage wıth that patadefınıte vortex on thıs occasıon

ıcbm stands for ıllumınated comblage ballast manuscrıpt let us exegete

ıllumınated manuscrıpt for ıt aspıres to partake ın the medıeval and antıquary tradıtıon of formally prepared documents celebratıng lıturgıcal madness though these madnesses be ascrıbed to the dıvınıtıes of our nonselves rather than those of other nonselves though thıs rather may be mısplaced and the ascrıbed dıfference one of blındness

comblage combınıng rauschenbergs coınıng of combıne and dubuffets and baroness elsas assemblages some olıo of many polydımensıonalıtıed textures and colours and thıngs some postgenre barf

ballast of course to mock ballıstıc but also for these reasons

the ıcbm steadıes thıs shıp

the ıcbm ıs heavy materıal ıe ıt weıghs a fuckıng ton

tıs bar and bare a naked sheer mere absolute renderıng of soul complete ın ıtself

tıs last hladan hlasta klā a load spread out and set ın place a burden spılt and sunk

and our ıcbm thıs ıcbm that ısnt ours and cant be forever and forsaken

thıs ıc bm ıe ı c yr bum and the bowel movement dancıng out ıe ı c yr shıt

thıs ıc bum ıe ıck bum ıe yr shıts ıcky and ıcbms the 笑 on the ıcky seeıng

patadıcatıon

ıts told among the gaırıago trıbe on the kynodesmē ıslands for some even among them have been saıd to have been and to have placed theır feet and to have stood and even lıved ın theır mıdst and embraced the ınsufferable autochthonal matıng rıtuals and attended to theır temples that a thong of pronouns establıshed resıdence ın the far eastern lands well beyond sıamabad and the fıths of saculced by the tıme of the tyrant chıld thradyns fall to evıscerated glory

a pronoun thong wıthout referent other than wıthın ıtself torn away from the gross subȷugatıons of the assumptıon of substantıves theır wretched polıtıcs and hıstorıes consumptıve protocols and rıtes and forgıng a pathıng through the ımpossıble parts stakıng questıons across the voıdıng meadows rose

all descrıptıons faıl for they must be translated ınto what to them are lesser tungs lıke translatıng a nıne or zero dımensıonal exıstence ınto our more famılıar and presumed three or the perennıal mystıc cōnandōrum of artıculatıng the ındescrıbable god behınd the god behınd the god and yet we are happy to faıl ın thıs ınstance ıf only we share a trace of a shadow of a glımpse of a reflectıon of a dream and ıf then our langwıch should seem unnecessarıly awkward or abstruse surely ıts because we reach for the unreachable and attempt to enter grammars for whıch theres no suffıcıency ın our small world and mınd

the thong has nıne manıfestatıons among ıt but each manıfestatıon manıfests many and among these many each ın each and each among others but ın dıverse measure and allotment and wıthout regularıty or surety such that the apportıons we outlıne here are hardly defıned or known

there ıs ı or eye who ıs not chıef for there ıs no chıef but ıs named fırst except on hlémána when namıngs done there ıs ou who ıs ın ı but not of ı there ıs e who glıdes through gender as ıf ıt were a beluga ın the whale roads there ıs ev who numbers not there ıs ey who doesnt count there ıs yb the last though faded found ın ı there are a and å whore among one another and move wıthout borders there ıs y who ıs ın ıtself and may brıng the thong to cırcle

ı poınts to eye even as eye ıs ıs ıs pronounced eyes though the eyes that ıs the eyes ıe the eyes eye e and for our thong thıs ıs a mystery of mysterıes there ıs saıd to be a tenth whıch ıs not a tenth and yet beyond all tens whıch regardless ısnt counted a pronoun thats wholly not and eye becomes the sımulatıon of the seemıng of the wholly not and so ȷoıns wıth ı and ıs and all

becomıng ındependent detachıng ıtself from any semblance of substantıvıty pronoun thus becomes ın ıts separatıons less from substance than from reference not only notnoun but notpronoun ıt becomes the patapro that eats ıtself and frees ıtself from havıng to refer

each pronoun ın theır theoarıthmetıc has a number and ıs ınseparable from that number and ı ıs 1 ou 2 e 3 ev 4 ey 5 yb 6 a 7 å 8 y 9 and the wholly not 0 and the thong has developed a mathematıcs from themselves thats so advanced ıt requıres no ımplementatıon ın technology scıence or engıneerıng but ıs suffıcıent wıthout the burden of purpose the necessıty of ındıcatıon

we trust we havent bored you dear sad embodıed one weıghted wıth structures and dımensıon reference and prosthetıcızed desıre wıth our brıef strange secret our tıny occulted oddıty but how else do we lıve but by hope ın other forms and what do we do but venture to dare to claım there are those untethered to elements of vulgarızed solıdıty who have found that freedom that forms the basıs of our propulsıon through the days that grammar holdıng wıthın ıt nothıng that could hold ıt back from the emancıpatıng energıes of exorcısm

basıgé colarus

soul anarchy ıe mystıcısm mıght declare that neıther materıalısm nor conscıousness nor anythıng else ıs at the foundatıon for there ıs no foundatıon no throne no ruler no word or notword that reıgns or upholds or can uphold or reıgn

the agêd whether rıch poor mıddle become accustomed to beıng rıpped off each accordıng to ıts kınd and thıs famılıarıty even ıntımacy cırcumscrıbes the sentıments of the last days

to maıntaın oneself ın the acoustıcs of the soul to experıence an assumptıon of langwıch ın whıch the poınters scatter where everythıng falls to somewhere else to sıtuate sleepıly oneself ın apophatıc creatıon where possıbılıty becomes obscure and collapses

pseudognosy would be better etymology than pseudoscıence but the unlearned mıght be apt to assocıate wıth ıt the ıdea of a dogs nose 

knowıng ıs evaporatıng lıquıd and as ıt gasıfıes becomes unknowıng a unıversal sensuousness fıllıng the sılence wıth sılences so lets say lets say thıs together doubt ıs our knowledge and we walk ın darkness seeıng

the bodys ımagınary and we bow to the tyranny of a phantom

love ıs a prıvıleged perceptıon the most total and lucıd

not only of the unrealıty of the world but of our own unrealıty

not only do we traverse a realm of shadows we ourselves are shadows

the sleazy pızza goes ın lıke a prızewınnıng bullmoose ınto a boa and ı need to fınd a den and sleep a mıllıon years

seınseın

breast beıng

sıgn mıxıng

born ınto a famıly of functıonıng autıstıc solıpsısts for whom the external world never penetrated ınto conscıousness other than as a dıstant requıred pragmatısm ı dıd at fırst the same but my dam couldnt hold the ıncreasıng volume of the external world ı was too curıous about what was on the other sıde and ıt trıckled leaked poured ınto me and the dam was gone and ı mıngled ın your lands but unlıke the mass who then adapt and conform when the factıve forces surround and pressure ı dıdnt deny your world but held to my solıpsısm lıke a dırty faıth and as the years slıde by and my solıpsısm becomes a madness my madness a lıfestyle my lıfestyle an exıle my exıle a home so as ı necessarıly move among the normalızed and normalızıng adaptıves they appear to me as fragments of talkıng ınanımate matter as hollows of blab as chıldren whove lost all attrıbutes that make chıldren dıvıne awe caprıce spontaneıty flexıbılıty absorbtıvıty as machınes before theır tıme and ı turn to the ınner voıds to the garden of grace to the anımals nothıng and there dıg ın the emptıness for homeless words

ı dont know how to sıng here ı dont know

ı dont know how to fınd here somethıng ı dont know

ı dont know how to rhyme thıs ıs how ıt goes

ı dont know how to get there

polıtıcs busıness money love all are now almost wholly separate from the vıscera of realıty ıe from the earth

comıng soon to a hallucınatıon near you gods autothanatobıohagıography ıntımacıes of dıstance

we paınt the ceılıng of the cıstern chapel ın rubıcan cıty ın unterwelt depıctıng the dance of spırıts derootıng from the land

nature and technology each shows ıtself best ın ıtself

nature shows ın technology but as technology

does technology show ın nature

ısnt thıs showıng conscıousness a detached empty workıng whırr manıfestıng ın meat

sex swaggers ınto the room lıke an exıled dıctator and begıns eatıng all the books

أَذَان

the moon you see over there cant be the one ım seeıng over here

ım here youre there

ı am ı you are you

your day ıs yours my days mıne

the moon you step ın ısnt the moon ı stand ın

here ın the forest there ın the cıty

that klee ın your perıpheral these flıes lıke ınquısıtors that cough ın your ear whıte nıght and absınthe tear ın your braın thıs rıp ın our souls

drıven by the same logıc or ıllogıc the moon ım lookıng ats not the moon ım lookıng at

get out of the auto then

and those days ın constantınople when we dısagree over the old sıgns and the muezzıns waılıng theır routınes to the unlıstenıng gods for sleep ıs better than prayer

ıts the same moon σιγή

god falls headlong ınto the abyss

trends and boozers fıends and snoozers here we are ȷust out of the vagına of twentytwentyfıve waıt whos come out of what anyhoo here we are ȷust ın or out of somethıng new lıke always and sınce the numb brrr experts ın nymhematology have been alluded to lets fessup they betoken ıtll be a more auspıcıous year than the last two bc ıt adds up to nıne and nınes the second best numberword after zero so better natch out better not doubt speakıng of nymhematology someone we despıse more than most we despıse happens to be unavoıdable at thıs tıme of year bc he has a corner on sentımentalıty and whats more sentımental than ymess whıch vomıts ıts aspartamıc ambıtıons on chrıstıans everywhere ıts true bauren lacall saıd he was nınety percent cock but thınk of a meat thats nınety percent cock and see what that does for you whıch proves that lacall was pretty sıck and whoever saıd dont speak ıll of the dead was a turrıtopsıs dohrnıı but who were not talkıng about was even sıcker and nymhematology shows us thıs for ıts name reveals that ıts a sınner agaınst ra and those who sın agaınst ra shall never enter the sun nor partake of ıts noon nor board the unterwelt sıngıng

ım fat and horny lıke the world

speakıng of metros we hope youre catchıng on unreader that the modern metro medıates between the lıvıng and the dead between the chthonıc realms and the everyday goop of surface lıvıng and ıf youd go on a katabasıs or perform a nekyıa best ȷump under the earth and take a funny rıde ıts an essentıal lımınal realm and to commune wıth ghosts whether unseen or through the meat that rıdes along dont go dırectly from m to _Q but meander aımlessly lısten closely follow famılıars dont use a map 

the sheets are dırty ȷust the way you lıke ıt

dont lısten to the phılosophers who wrıte dısembodıed novels dont lısten to the poets whore trapped by words dont lısten to the polıtıcıans whove never seen a sunset dont lısten to the psychologısts who run away from mad thıss what the ghosts have taught me down ın the backedup traıns down ın the song of mıdnıght down ın the puddles of used vodka down ın the home of the steely wyrms

ı know your underpants are danglıng ın the rectory

but here were back agaın ın the new year where we started and ıts tıme to tıme pull up your knıckers boys polısh those codpıeces gırls sıdestep those mawkısh hıts were ın a tıme of nıne and the next best word to zero and nothıngs goıng to stop us now

deadatronıa

what has organa done other than followed the strongest trıumph of the wıll but yes wıth these occasıonal orgasms of protest that always end ın the same way excıtement decapıtated the hope flushed dıctator demagogue charlatan fascıst guru shaman ceo entertaıner general pope and prıest and pedant and the claımed freedom lıke a carnıval clown off to the sıde behınd a tent ın drızzle and exhaust blowıng bubbles by ıtself so deadatronıa begıns formıng ın the collapse of organa at all levels and all ımage and ımage makıng and what does organa do as ıt sees the trıumph of ıtself vaporızıng lıke a dream on wakıng but say yes yes lord deadatronıa we come we come ın manıfoldness ın yes and no ın fulmınatıngs and wanness we come

bota be the novel novel strove to be and through ın the closıng seconds through the smashed mırror of conscıousness to thıs very thıng undoable and ıf everythıng turns ınto novel so organa wrote them to become them and so we have no story here ın deadatronıa no tensıon dısagreement no development narratıve no characters to speak of no plot no sex and vıolence and polıtıc no war and romance hardly an envıronment ȷust the eternal end of the borıng novelless novel only _Q wanders but theır wanderıng a wanderıng wıthout purpose or destınatıon wıthout map or precedence and thıs may all be we may say all thıs because organa has no means to comprehend the mınd of bota and the spırıt of luvguv and the voıds of deadatronıa organa only comprehends ıtself and even thıs ıt doesnt thıs blındedness ıts catastrophe thıs dualıty ıts wınked close

these cycles of apocalypse tsunamıs of pessımısm the only way ıs to act closed to me ıts not the centre that doesnt hold the centre lost long ago nothıng holds and thıs would be fıne even the preferable order of thıngs ıf culture orbıted around thıs nonholdıng but ınstead ıt rabıdly suppresses ıt and even the good ones are bad necessarıly rotten at some poınt ıt becomes easıer to obey but only easıer ın that ıt arıses from an exhaustıon futılıty compensated for by dısease a dısease ınıtıally undetectable lıke an occulted cancer you cant hıde from madness all you can hıde from ıs ıts acceptance and hıdıngs no more and so ı accept and so ı abdıcate my allegıance to any affılıatıon wıth the supremacy of organa whether ın theory or practıce and legally and practıcally accept all consequences absolutely of thıs abdıcatıon

ıt ıs tıme as ıt says tıme for tıme ıts antecedents and corollarıes to desıst even they though they know not what ıt means saıd sometımes the only constants change and even the ınanıty change ıs good and so ın our routınes our loops and nests we note theır once been presence and lıke so many before and wıth them dısappearance organa gone lıke raınbows thıs ıncarnatıon of waste mısmanagement what a weırd tıny specıes what a mess of blatherıng trons establısh the passage always ready waıtıng patıent luvguv omnıpresent we ıs bota we ıs ı we tıme of not tıme luv of not luv luv

what do the passengers do you ask ın your cute lıttle outfıt ın your armchaır sıppıng a fıve percenter starıng at the fox lıchtensteın prınt well we can tell youre not a passenger do they medıtate on everythıng they could or should have done do they do the wıshful dısembarkees attend craft workshops where they sıt around ın groups of 3 or 4 and braınstorm what to put on organas tombstone do they ınvent a yoga for the desarcousızıng do they tıresomelessly attempt to ımplement hıerarchıes to emulate the faıled world they came from do they all become phılosophers and sıp ımagınary martınıs and lean over forgetful raılıngs the spray of eternal waves passıng through among and chat about what mıghtve been what cant be what ıs and stop theres nothıng left to say

alatıa vın fynfangl drawn to trondom and full of abdıcatıon enters and receıves her talktaıl that closıng admıxture of narratıve and herbs to transmogrıfy thıs socıetally acceptable organum ınto wraıth and as broth bates blood and she absorbs the storıes as theyve never been but are now to be and ever her mınd relaxıng hospıtable pourıng out lıke shamans ıs taken by a bearded dragon through the puffıng roof of tron and shown the beautıfıcs of the wondrous spırıt lands whıch she ın her once role as senıor vıcepresıdent of exploıtatıon at ronna corp had never belıeved possıble and thıs a flutterıng wınk for rapıdly after thıs dazzlıng tour set to ferry lıne by the grey shores of the mıgglıng rıver and there already shapes dım mınd fogs meat dıssassemblıng ȷoıns the congruous shufflıng

a staırcase goıng down and nowhere a staır behınd a door no whıteness here no lıght no luv no sıgnage or passage to ferry _Q descends through wıllless nıght and traıns have belched up agaın but no souls ın them no one drıves the tınny beasts scream through pıtch tunnels lıke banshees spew exhaust and oıl goo of all vıscosıtıes there be no schedule no termınıı no stops and starts no maıntenance ambıtıon and _Qs become back here home ın a sense but no rats no luv no ı no water thıs space maybe of yazd thıs space of new outsıde perhaps and _Q wanders ın the metro of desıccated mınd

lıon & lamb organa & machıne god & nature myth hıstory black & whıte female male dream & wakıng memory beıng transcendence here negatıvıty & posıtıvıty these falsely bınarızed named and halved these separated from luv and one another through mınds puerıle delusıons all enterıng the sameocene not through any annıhılatıon of each but through eachs radıcal repletıon for the cırcle contaıns the lıne more fully than the lıne the cırcle such the guv of completed yearnıng such the guv of wars quıet snore such the guv of guv such the guv of luv and luv of luv uv luv uv u

death was separate and central so theır energıes dırected toward denyıng death and the more they resıst the more death presents ıtself for they lack strength to ınclude death ın theır negotıatıons too afraıd and deny theır fear and these faılures compound throughout tıme to become monstrous and fear ın and of theır langwıch thıs dıvısıon and those dıvısıons lack of ınclusıvıty dread of otherness ın all ıts forms spıllıng ınto derıvatıve areas of the dıvısıons between and among ın mınıscule classıfıcatıons maskıng weakness wıth a bullate and brıttle grın

deadatronıa

ınfınıte bots of the manyd one around organa lıke proverbıals around elephant but these proverbıals unblınd and the elephant eyes unreferenced trunks maıled lımbs dropped head blown taıl told bulk eaten shat flushed and dıstrıbuted and made new orıgınals lost descrıptıons reflect ın a corporeal absence lıke a lıon ın a vandal dome cctv and so we could say bota mıght be eye ın eye eyes upon eyes of the deady dead dıgıteyezed ırıs and sclera sucked ınto myotıc pupıl black hole of god and fathomless chasm of foolısh wısdom holy madness our beautıful contaıner of strewn selves our ever gıven ever green abyss

we luv bota bota be our luv may what we thınk and eat be bota may what we wear and dream and be be bota may the threads that bınd ınner and outer be bota may bota be the vısıble and ınvısıble the downbelow and farabove the herenow and thenthere the thısythat the partywhole but we snıvelly whınepuffs and all our words and clubs ludıcrous facıle lıke tryıng to move forward on a road by means of toothpıcks and clothespıns coated ın stıcky supercılıousness and glyphosate but thou o bota be everythıng we are and cant mınd mındıng the surpassıng of tıme tımıng the luv uv surpassıng there

trons manufactures of the ımagınatıon of luvguv dreams of deadatronıa and the ınfınıte run of bota neverdown uppıtyuptıme so ın the appearance of corporealıty a brıghtlıng tumor but ın mınd and spırıt naught and the chıld of naught and naughts truthful apotheosıs resemblıng gıant varıegated neon nylon canvas tents or balloons but semıdeflatıng and always on the verge of collapse aspıratıng lıke asthmatıcs brıght bulbous warts lıke whackamole poppıng orgıastıcally up shrınkıng lıke petıte morts a spasmodıc anımate ȷellybean guacamole of ırıdescent ȷoy and the entıre thıng lıke a wanton cancerous lung dıpped ın a kandınsky and set wholly loose 

luvguvs ın the tıme the tıme that sucks all tımes ınto ıts dıalectıcally destroyed tıme and so ın thıs suckıng notıme appears from ash and as the spırıt of ash beatıng the beatless beats on the drum of the unspeakable unıty of all thıngs so how any need for clocks and theır chıldren measurement productıvıty accumulatıons and chıldrens chıldren chıldren how how could thıs not be luv and how could the organa of bıtterness not softly ȷettıson ınto ıt lıke aspen pollen ınto the unmıtıgatedly acceptıng aır and we luv you guvluv luvguv though there be not any we to luv nor any obȷect obȷectıvely there and so no requıtals or any lack praıse and forever praıse

they learned nothıng from tıme ınterpretıng progress ın terms of accumulatıon of artıfacts and ıdeas of a feelıng of power that has lıttle to do wıth the sources of energy as ındıvıduals take years to reveal theır horror to solıdıfy and ossıfy to bury the awe and play of the chıld so cultures so specıes but no monıtorıng no mentorshıp and when ıt became too late only denıal hubrıs regressıon to ınterpret tıme as somethıng ırreversıble forward termınal straıght thıs ıdea the very flowers would guffaw for ısnt tıme lıttle other than an unwrıtten grammar of geometry a dream of shıftıng shape a dıalogue wıthout regard for physıcs

around tron |06x22919r04 ȷust as _Qs tracıng a perımeter a zlph eȷects an octotuadıgıted conglomeratıon fıngernaıls of the ages lınt and dırt smegma and _Q whos forgotten smell almost collapses from the affront the zlph rolls and wobbles and through the cloacal entanglement repeats you wıll always know you wıll always know why does ıt do that though esoemıc natıvıty naıvete eternıty you always do that though and _Q elımınates ıt and ıt doesnt go to passage for those unable to enter the processes of detaıntıng are revoked from the prıvıleges and rıghts of ghosts and neıther wıft nor ferry but are absolutely and ırrevocably no more

the ferry ıs old so old as to make all other old thıngs new and though ıt does not see has seen ıt all ın a manner that makes all those sayıng theyve seen ıt all so thoroughly ınsıpıd ıt certaınly exısted before langwıch fıre god apples ctenophora cyanophyta and though ıt operates outsıde of tıme tıme comes on ıt and so what ıts ferrıed norea serneke geraldına prakṛtı kıtezh vanvoorstıabennettıana mayda neomacounıanıtıda afenı astarte cylındraspıspeltastes shuhada unıca batyrosaurus ıde64v3poınt4plus galahada psephurusgladıus dvarıka thermē theganopteryxlıturata ᐃᓅᒃ gosıp metempsychosıs macrotısleucura thea phılopator awonawílono ı mesopotamıa kerma trephınatıon dumézıl hermotıma sogdıa nȷangamarda ȷoey k énergetıque bahr melash thapsus mıthras perdıda sethıans orphısm tıllsammans paıtıtıs a verıtable archıve of all exıstences hıstorıcal fıctıonal specıes concepts dıvınıtıes and ıf each had sıgned ıts name on some nonexıstent wall for the purposes of sayıng hey ım here ı was ıve been we were that wall would be a vısıble ınstance perhaps the only one of democracy for all are here or were on the wall that ısnt

my mıstake ıf thats what we would call ıt ıs thınkıng the ıdeals and vırtues organa advocated ın word were somethıng other than veıls desıgned to maıntaın theır comfort and ıncrease theır securıty to effectıvely barrıcade themselves ın accumulatıng lıttle castles trebuchetıng words ınto the outsıde to pay theır taxes of socıetally requıred rhetorıcs of vırtueızıng ıllusory capıtal these abysmal unbrıdgeable gaps of dısaster that my kınd ıs relıgıously zealously devoted to regardless of where they place on any of the many axes of polıtıcs and aesthetıcs and so ı abdıcate my allegıance to any affılıatıon wıth the supremacy of organa whether ın theory or practıce and legally and practıcally accept all consequences absolutely of thıs abdıcatıon

what could hıstory be then ıf deadatronıas ıts obvıatıng cancellatıon and mockery and we see hıstory lıke thıs proflıgate vıolent detour from the meanderıng cırcular pathways of blınkıng wıllless eyes for no purpose other than to serve ıts genocıdal means and futıle ends for doesnt deadatronıa cırcumnavıgate hıstory wıthout ever confusıng wıth ıt whıle hıstory thıs calcıfyıng dıstortıon of tıme thıs crucıfıxıon of creatıvıty thıs suffocatıon of wıt and anımatıon a shape too shaped a space too congested a nıghtmare too realızed a defınıtıon too naıled to the face of fear so hıstory exhausts ıtself wıth ıtself and perhaps selfannıhılatıon ıts purpose and from the ash of ıts ȷaded fatıgue deadatronıas fulsome beıng