August 2011
1 post
geotagging
Since arriving in Spain I have checked in on Gowalla a couple of times and glanced over the motion patterns of friends and online acquaintances. Yesterday I went shell seeking with my little ones and picked and sifted through the end result of millions of years of greater, slower migrations. Our concepts of time, our fragmentations, are illusion. A human being exists for a nanosecond in the great...
July 2011
6 posts
word
blood words of the migrants
driven through trenches, sick and spaced
waving tired flags, imposing surrender
on the minds and dead opinions of their oppressor
fat soaked mind pig of the dirt people
endless idiot and slave to a power
that evaporates on impact
that will never survive death
unlike the wraith knots of the sooth
that make love, ensure people are cared for, embrace holy fire
...
audacity
I love audacity in any art form. I read some Moorcock again the other day and love the fact that the guy just spewed themes and ideas relentlessly, whether they found their level in the pulp tradition of Elric and the eternal champion stories or occupied a more rarified atmosphere (Mother London et al). The more discerning reader would miss the visceral power of the former, the devourer of comics...
saracen
the head of a saracen
spinning in space, eyes white
circled by the sick poison of stars
dreaming of crusades
carried out
underground
by unlimited ancestors
fuzzed
Programming languages comprise sets of instructions. Whether the language is functional or procedural, whether its instruction set is a long sequential list or a series of messages passed between objects, ultimately it all boils down to black and white, one or zero. On or off.
Human languages occupy another level, as remote from computer programming as Newtonian physics is from quantum physics....
random
Ran. Dominion over words and pictures, flicked flickered from a mind in crisis flowers gods flames and rebellion. Thrones and golden calves chosen at. Ran. Domain of thetongue witch, selecting forests and bodies from the great dark earth scorched with the fire blood of a thousand sky bulls. Ran. Ran. Domes of the black city, crowded with dreams. Dominoes, dominoes ransacked by angels and toppled,...
bones etc
I’m a rough and tumble of bones
Long bones, ribbed and stacked, sockets and curves
A wild engine under the skin
I love my lips, my hair and especially my eyes
But they are wet mollusc excuses
Which will melt in the heat of time
My bones, insistent and white
Will remain, get discovered in some black cave
No record of my eyelashes
No clue as to the hot glue of my personal organism
...