St. Patrick's Daisy

Diaspora – The settling of scattered colonies of Jews outside Palestine (after the Babylonian exile).
Die, a spore, rat, a key
diasporaticly list out of Babylon.

The scattered seed of the people unsettled the land of plenty, those seeds that grew when planted, the seeds of knowledge that they watched for a long while after growth before becoming aware of their relative nakedness of what had become a mystery unseen before hardened in hellfire.  "I’d like my anxiety with a sense of dread," was never said aloud.

My own skieveiness
grosses myself out.
As it should I’s’pose.

Convince yourself that this is not an optical illusion.  <Ctrl + Alt + Realities… Beep.>

“Everything you talk about is not as
fun as what you could be doing, a voice in
my head insists.” “Shut up, I’m conducting
 a laboratory in the laboratorium paradigm -
an action and an unde (whence), a place
from where the action came from

Don Julio Vertullio De Vertullio Sassulio
saves everything in secret places.
Do you think if you go run around everywhere you’re
going to learn something, anything?
The word is only truth if it feels true
to believe it.  Is that true?
Aren’t some things true and some things truer?

Who first felt truth?
I’ll volunteer.
Where did it touch you?
Up here.
Checks out the truth processor
Down here.
Checks out the truth delivery
Up again
I combat the evils of the world with
chemical euphoria chemically induced
to the ass in advanced A SHED.

Young, stupid, left wide open, “Everytime I look for you,” by Blink-182

I am nothing if not the people who came before me, therefore, an aberration.

The North Pole feeds itself on light particles,
rules the world as a magnet, dictates freely,
and convinces itself of anything catharctic, taboo.

We put something in a frame and decide it’s more
reflective than the things around it because it’s
surrounded with something shiny like a halo and
some element as valuable as gold.

Z à Aggressiveness Eyes Zydecorient

The propinquity of the phyllotaxis
Fibonacci’s my sequence
Up my ratio?

“Anxiety produces speech, and out sort of speech
is religion – every religion.
Out of the fear of Space arise the numina of the
world-as-nature and the cults of gods; out of
the fear for time arise the numina of life, of sex
and greed, of the State, centering on ancestor-worship.

Spengler, O. The Decline of the West, Book II, p. 265

Concatenation abeyance

“One has merely to declare oneself free, and one feels the
moment to be conditioned.  But if one has the courage
to declare oneself conditioned, then one has the feeling of
being free.”
Goethe

Hearing
Disparates
requires coalescence.

Being is a mystery that, as soon as faith and science
turn their attention to it, ill-uses them into fateful error.
In the realm of doing the waking-consciousness
takes charge only when it becomes technique.

 Pick-up technique, the soul of example, the artist at
his craft divulges the question on everyone’s mind,
“Who likes short shorts?” I do! Summer in Spring,
a warm reminder of better things to come, already
here and on their way in a realm of consciousness
where qualities take on form’s essence
less phrenologically than physiognomically.

“But belief and life, love springing from the secret
fear of the world, and love springing from the secret
hate of the sexes, knowledge of inorganic and sense
of organic logic, Causes and Destinies – this is the
deepest opposition of all” 271

Medical Doctors, death seers, knowers of inorganic
nature, are able to prophetically divine the nature of the
cause, and thus, seemingly, the knowledge of the destiny
of the cold individual; at a loss for pulse and
further upward mobility.

'Religious knowledge is power-man' not only
ascertains causations, but handles them.  “He who knows
the secret relationship between microcosm and macrocosm
commands it also, whether the knowledge has come to him by
revelation or by eavesdropping.  Thus the magician and
conjuror is truly the Taboo-man.  He compels the deity through
sacrifice and prayer; he practices the true rites and sacraments
because they are causes of inevitable results, and whosoever knows
them, him they must serve.  He reads in the stars and in the
sacred books; in his power lies, timeless and immune from all
accident, the causal relation of sin and propitiation,
repentance and absolutions, sacrifice and grace. His chain
of sacred origins and results makes him himself a vessel of
mysterious power and, therefore, a cause of new effects, in
which one must have faith before one may have them imparted.” 271

Exercitium spirituale – Spiritual exercises? 

What moral, what ethic, therefore is tempted to be imparted
to the technician, carrier of just technique?

Ticks quicken at regular intervals…”but something eternal
and universally valid, (is) not only without time, but hostile to time
and for that very reason ‘true.’ 272

Imagine observing a quantum                    when in your defined
locality a moving particle appears             in the system with known
velocity, destination, and purpose…        what had to leave the system
in this sense is a semblance of sanity or decocted coherence.
It can’t be definition, actually hit any of the points on the
pre-defined vector plot, only by constructing the plot for
the body in motion itself can any of the points
be of ascertainable validity.

Points in the system may become excited and move and
give way to the general vector of determination, but in no way
may Fourier transform, may space give way to time,
time gives way to space. The frozen time dynamic,
excited by the current that enters the system at
this point has the ability to displace or likewise become
‘stuck’ itself in the system (locality), but its
subsequent removal will be only the result of some future
space-excitation that fixes time to it.

Time is a dress, garb, sense, novelty,
escutcheon, shield, crest, meld, guild,
ego, desired expression of vanity, (as
a Deadhead comes out of the 60’s) out of
time, in place, remains in an excited state, an
anti-particle the other ½ of a split
system from a single source flashed-back.

St. Patrick's Daze

Notes passed unto the scientific community mustn’t
contain imaginary superfluity, yet it’s analogous
to proving a point, met by marked silence, oft
ignored.  A cry for help’s screaming ‘rabbits’ by the
fool’s yard, Bird-man flies to find someone
like a chicken at top speed.

                “Gene, man, something’s different about you, you’ve
altered, or mutated, or something, because something’s
just not right about you lately, you’ve changed.”
                “Nay, Hen, I’ve seen the light like you, and
just as I’ve calculated, the light has worked upon me
at a potential worthy of magnitude including
time initial â (a ÷ hat) up to and including time
present and probably through tomorrow, if all things
go according to formula.  Listen, Henry, I look
great, I feel great, and no shit has hit the fan
that we’re using for this light experiment,
just a light-spatter on super-imposable film that
we were using to create these measurements, and the
results are fascinating, scintillating even, if
you were to go that far.”

There are Buddhist monks who clothe themselves in torture,
their tears evaporate along with everybody else’s,
just more.  All tears float up into the ether and intermingle
there a long while, or until the next monsoon tsunami.
When disaster is predictable, you can prepare for it, but
not necessarily avoid it.  Getting hit hard is only human.  
I don’t mind getting dirty and staying that way for just a
while, because I know that nothing is ordinarily not forever.

The trismatites get the trismagist by the odelus in the noon tuxedo.

What disciple would go unto throes for his master?

Push on through…Salmonella Dub

My time in quantum heaven spent pondering a heaven-sent wonder,
my angel dissected, my cut cutty in chains, the sin generator
was a wonder not to look away from, if that’s how
you could decline the root of those waves, the prime
motivator, my substantive love for flashy screens that
give me peace mins.  Manymany peace mins. collect like
frequent flier miles to Bird-man who still runs like
a chicken, and wants to get off the ground standing.
WAA!

                Birdman’s baby, adorned in raiment, marks her
splendor in the bathtub near the light fan used for sterile
developments darkroom predictebant what had happened
pluperfectly at the point aggregate.  A light box with
no windows flickers on one wall within:  Chicken skeet,
drank it like Chubucabra, the bird rustler, the imaginary
animalcule, the carnival carnivore who sucked the suffering
teet of turpidity from a hole in the wall at the zoo.

Fade to black.
Eyelids filter.

The heat kicks on with a frequency proportional to outdoor
temp., so my awareness automatically implies tacitly.

In their own times they already supposed themselves
the gods of the history books.

Polyorthistic Aceldama

A round room with manymanymanymanymanymanymany doors
declare the relative ‘rightness’ of the room exited above
all others…

The densest nug
felt like a hug
when no one was really there.

The tallest glass
filled up my ass.
Pardon, my derriere.

The city expresses scale.
The temple and the dun (borderwall)
are belittling.

Through a machine, a young man
imagines eternal life in his time, with
electronic prosthetics
and eleemosynary medicare
with mental health hats
styled superstitcheosly
by needling bureaucrats.

Believing in freedom from compulsion, slack minds
do what they’re compelled to do in the name of freedom!

Well, now that’s technically freedom for a cause, to be allowed
to do what you would (left to ones’ own devices) be allowed to do.

Proper product placement in a trustworthy source initiates that
appropriate feedback mechanism that lumps benefits together.

What is the favored practice?  Vanity,
who wants to know?  One, A. Murkin
with a high degree of correlation, choleration,
and a discoloration.  Celebrity spreads
like a disease.  The kids want to know why
to fear.  The adults know what to fear.
The difference between superstition and a
healthy fear of the Lord, in a Godsense,
is a Godsense, and what it feels to doubt.

Awareness of mental health disorders, a high prevalence
in the infected region confesses a physiognomy
I know to avoid and know not to judge myself.
I don’t know what I’m doing now, I just know
that I have to do it because if I don’t do it, then
I won’t do it again and I want to do it forever.

Opera Unoperta: The unconcealed works

A Paul Rudd
monkey-comedy,
ape, technically.
There are 40
sad details.

One, So full, we ate.

We sat by the particle projector and were added at & to according to data plan or data plot.

I was so mad that I didn’t care to come out (and play).

There’s a needle in my eye, ouch, it hurts,
please stop, I feel that!  The probe!

Give ‘em guns.  They’ll only eliminate one
another on one way streets.

When the hammer comes down will the nail get
another say?

Insular scientists are no longer able to translate
the language of thought into the language of speech.

Via elimination, hate at limitations,
particle on a wire at wits end with
a cat trying to get him to come out of a tree.
The mirror of self-loathing hardens entrails.
The cat on the poster that encourages those
in need of encouragement to ‘Hang in There’
while separating the signifier from the signified,
the blueprint from being reinvented.  The State is
blind and the blind State is O.K. with the blind State
its in, because that’s just what the Blind State
is in the Blind State’s own collectivist mind and the
Blind State’s okay with that ‘cause it knows no better.

“What makes you a friend to yourself?” Horace
might have asked indirectly.

The art of a perfectionist is a point to be pondered.
Where did he get that (idea)? Was it a point from an
artstkicker during the tsky[hy period of constant backwash?
 Will he be remembered as a man of his period in time?
The God in man only hopes.
Hope till your last breath.
Hope until you die,
(“Abandon all hope ye who enter this place.”)
And give your God unto the sign itself
while trusting the Devil’s imperial dictum,
(a la Dante(’s allegory)).

Is God a single atom decaying?
Is God a superposition of opposing states
like a little Christian who didn’t peek before Christmas at his
own presence, presents, or presentness?

Pleasantness is something you can feel for yourself.

When you void me of my nothingness you fill me up.

I take personal responsibility for everything by projecting all my problems into the future.
Why do you want me to pay special attention to this here, now-present thing-itself?

Proper etiquette dictates:  It’s wrong to say ‘Right’ when referring to a state of correctness.
Just like it is incorrect to say ‘Like’ when referring to one state that is similar to another state of similarity.
And this is similar to the dictum that states that all men were created equally into varying states of correctness and etiquette (when put to a poll.)
All men were once born of blood and some men continue to be bloodthirsty like their fathers' father's Fathers

chili concentrate reconstitution admixture (when put to a can.)

Fools Die

Mario Puzo

Book I

“Listen to me.  I will tell you the truth about a man’s life. I
will tell you the truth about his love for women. That he never
hates them. Already you think I’m on the wrong track. Stay
with me.  Really – I’m a master of magic.

                “Do you believe a man can truly love a woman and con-
stantly betray her?  Never mind physically, but betray her in
his mind, in the very ‘poetry of his soul.’ Well, it’s not
easy, but men do it all the time.

                “Do you want to know how women can love you, feed you
that love deliberately to poison your body and mind simply to
destroy you? And out of passionate love choose not to love you
anymore? And at the same time dizzy you with an idiot’s ecstasy.
Impossible? That’s the easy part.

                “But don’t run away.  This is not a love story.

                “I will make you feel the painful beauty of a child, the
animal horniness of the adolescent males, the yearning suicidal
moodiness of the young female.  And then (here’s the hard part)
show you how time turns man and woman around full circle, ex-
changed in body and soul.

                “And then of course there is TRUE LOVE. Don’t go away!
It exists or I will make it exist.  I’m not a master of magic
for nothing.  Is it worth the cost? And how about sexual fid-
elity?  Does it work?  Is it love?  Is it even human, that perverse
passion to be with only one person? And if it doesn’t work,
do you still get a bonus for trying?  Can it work both ways?
Of course not, that’s easy. And yet –

                “Life is a comical business, and there is nothing funnier
than love traveling through time. But a true master of magic
can make his audience laugh and cry at the same time. Death
is another story.  I will never make a joke about death.  It is
beyond my powers.

                “I am always alert for death.  He doesn’t fool me.  I spot
his right away.  He loves to come in his country-bumpkin dis-
guise; a comical wart that suddenly grows and grows; the dark,
hairy mole that sense its roots to the very bone; or hiding
behind a pretty little fever blush.  Then suddenly that grinning
skull appears to take the victim by surprise.  But never me.
I’m waiting for him. I take my precautions.

                “Parallel to death, love is a tiresome, childish business,
though men believe more in love than death. Women are another story.  They have a powerful secret.  They don’t take love ser-
iously and never have.

                “But again, don’t go away. Again; this is not a love
story. Forget about love. I will show you all the stretches of power.   First the life of a poor struggling writer.  Sensitive. Talented. Maybe even some genius. I will show you the artist getting the shit kicked out of him for the sake of his art. And why he so richly deserves it.  Then I will show him as a cunning criminal and have the time of his life.  Ah, what a  joy the true artist feels when he finally becomes a crook. It’s
out in the open now, his essential nature. No more kidding around about his honor. The son of a bitch is a hustler. A
conniver.  An enemy of society right out in the clear instead
of hiding behind his whore’s cunt of art. What a relief.
What pleasure. Such sly delight. And then how he becomes an
honest man again.  It’s an awful strain being a crook.

                “But it helps you accept society and forgive your
fellowman. Once that’s done no person should be a crook unless he really needs the money.

                “Then on to one of the most amazing success stories in the history of literature. The intimate lives of the giants of
our culture. One crazy bastard especially. The classy world.
So now we have the poor struggling genius world, the crooked world and the classy literary world.  All this laced with
plenty of sex, some complicated ideas and you won’t be hit over the head with and may even find interesting. And finally on
to a full-blast ending in Hollywood with our hero gobbling up
all its rewards, money, fame, beautiful women. And. . .
don’t go away – don’t go away – how it all turns to ashes.

                “That’s not enough? You’ve heard it all before? But re-
member I’m a master of magic.  I can bring all these people truly alive. I can show you what they truly thing and feel.  You’ll
weep for them, all of them, I promise you that. Or maybe just laugh. Anyway, we’re going to have a lot of fun. And learn something about life. Which is really no help.

                “Ah, I know what you’re thinking. That conning bastard trying to make us turn the page. But wait, it’s only a tale I
want to tell.  What’s the harm? Even if I take it seriously,
you don’t have to. Just have a good time.

                “I want to tell you a story, I have no other vanity.
I don’t desire success or fame or money. But that’s easy, most men, most women don’t, not really.  Even better, I don’t want love. When I was young, some women told me they loved me for my long eyelashes.  I accepted. Later it was for my wit. Then
for my power and money. Then for my talent. Then for my mind – deep.  OK, I can handle all of it. The only woman who scares me
is the one who loves me for myself alone. I have plans for her.
I have poisons and daggers and dark graves in caves to hide her head. She can’t be allowed to live. Especially if she is sexually faithful and never lies and always puts me ahead of everything and everyone.

                “There will be a lot about love in this book, but it’s
not a love book. It’s a war book. The old war between men who are true friends. The great ‘new’ war between men and women. Sure it’s an old story, but it’s out in the open now. The
Women’s Liberation warriors think they have something new, but it’s just their armies coming out of their guerrilla hills.
Sweet women ambushed men always: at their cradles, in the kitchen, the bedroom. And at the graves of their children,
the best place not to hear a plea for mercy.

                “Ah, well, you think I have a grievance against women.  But I never hated them. And they’ll come out better people
than men, you’ll see.  But the truth is that only women have
been able to make me unhappy, and they have done so from the cradle on.  But most men can say that.  And there’s nothing to be done.

                “What a target I’ve given here. I know – I know – how ir-
resistible it seems. But be careful. I’m a tricky storyteller,
not just one of your vulnerable sensitive artists.  I’ve taken
my precautions.  I’ve still got a few surprises left.

                “But enough. Let me get to work. Let me begin and let me end.

12/12/12

Megalomaniacal thought appreciation:  The scruffy little guru obsessed, global
domination makes for interesting iconography.  Ah, to achieve a type
of modified immortality that takes the sum total of being and transgresses
alternatives seeking the path of least resistance.  Efficiency technologies serve to make
the slippery path speedier.  Now what?  More ‘me time’.  Time to wait for my well
defined wants to be renewed.  Ask, and ye shall receive, to an extent.  Biocapacitance profiles
capacity parameters and triangulates peregrinations into and out of states of heightened
awareness and higher thinking recorded into something new, novel. 
With a wealth of modern historical revelation being reinvented or discovered in Petri-media
daily, utterances correlate what was then to now.  When now?  12/12/12 @ 0054.

The world will be over in a less than a fortnight, supposedly.  I wonder what that mean?
Hollywood depicts an asteroid/flood/tsunami/earthquake.  Wishful thinking for the
feeling secure in proofed homes or thatched bunkers in the middle of somewhere.
Will there be a noticeable event, occurrence, or happening that can be recognized
the world over to any and every sentient being occupying the planet concurrently?
Probably not. Lighting differences.  Time zones.  Poisson distributions.  Factors and
variables in infinite abundance need to be equated, universally speaking.

                I want a woman to relax with.  Someone I can use my imagination
upon and won’t talk back like a thoughtful participant.  Someone I can
indoctrinate with my own thoughts on free speech; which rich white landowners
have the right to exercise; with me at my country club estate.  It’s absurd, but
the prison system operates similarly.  The Algerian, Horatio, strap-licker, they put themselves there.
If you believe in both free-will and destiny like I do…One man pulls himself up and
another person pushes himself back down.  Could there be free wills that have freely
renounced freedoms by agreeing to something or by performing a certain act?
To whom?  Or what?  Or for what reason? Less obvious. 

Semiotic Rheology and Orthopraxy

NuPeter Jupiter
The pearlier gates
Reactive ABRAXAS

Socially awkward astrophysicist
on (his/her) way to outerspace
finds (his/her) pressure stabilized
quarters cozy enough, not
enough living space on
the old planet for all of
all morally divergent cultures,
especially those with no respect
for the mathematics upon which
all of civilization wrests its
universal living from mother Earth’s
loosely tilled land-hands around
which I would work myself if
I weren’t so freeze-dried and Tangry.

Oh, to convince myself that there’s
something I actually like or that I’m
similar to would upset my ultimate
ideals of differentiation of my mind
from this body, overcome with spirits.

J High Priest; Church_of_Separatists
@ NuSeParaSites dot comma chameleon.
Do they get Internet in outerspace?

They differentiate the integral of gamma-
radiation, the wavelength that all new ideas
and NuCombinations of existing Infra(red)
structure that heatsink components
inculcated with the NuReceptive
Mediae, upon which foundations
of our Gnuleretroactive Pop institutions
update sensory timerates, even through BCI
implements to the deaf, dumb, and blind!

“Midway through the arraignment I looked at my watch.  It had stopped.  Odd.  It was the first time I could remember that happening.  Then I noticed that Manson was staring at me, a slight grin on his face.

                It was, I told myself, simply a coincidence.”

                Bugliosi, Helter Skelter, pg. 256

“I stretched out in the grass, my skull on a large, flat rock and my eyes staring straight up at the milky way, that strange breach of astral sperm and heavenly urine across the cranial vault formed by the ring of constellations: that open crack at the summit of the sky, apparently made of ammoniacal vapors shining in the immensity (in empty space, where they burst forth absurdly like a rooster’s crow in total silence), a broken egg, a broken eye, or my own dazzled skull weighing down the rock, bouncing symmetrical images back to infinity.  The nauseating crow of a rooster in particular coincided with my own life, that is to say, now, the cardinal, because of the crack, the red color, the discordant shrieks he provoked in the wardrobe, and also because one cuts the throats of roosters.”

                Bataille, Story of the Eye, pg. 48

120912

FREEDOM Abolitionists wish to abolish freedom, or the notion thereof, that it is
altogether impossible to abolish one without abolition of the counter-balance weight
that runs a thin line between the word freedom and its inverse meaning, slavery.
Freedom has been abolished, the freedom to both own a slave and to be a slave.
If only this should be the case!  In fact, slave owners have evolved into faceless
entities, impossible to Target®, and slaves themselves have no body to blame but
their own, themselves, each other, and enforce blameworthiness for the sake
of management positions, pricks.  Legally, therefore, slavery has been
abolished; realistically, however, the word and the meaning remain.
With the evolution of syntactic structuralism, “the system of differences
that is langue,” erodes the axon and broadens the transmittance gap.
A world dominated by machines designed to divide and conquer deus ex
extinct alone together in separate togetherness.  Nothingness is unabridgeable.
The son of the judge of judges is constantly being scrutinized and corrected for
exact measure in dimension.  The medium is the body, the message is the soul.
What is fit for discourse?  I am not at liberty to say.  Amanuensis
to whom?  For whom? By whom?  Abstract ‘I,’ Josiah, mysterious king
of the Pentateuch.   Because, for where there’s doubt, truth still exists, and
who has the final say?  The rippler of ripplers, may he agitate
in peace, posthumously.  Dark-side engineers Death Star in space, an
ill-defined sphere when nature is shaped like an ellipse
transforming the average of linear regression filters.

The Wikiwater Sports Page

The Wikiwater Sports Page

Controlled Chaos:  My impressions of gas system analysis.

            Expansion, pressure, heat, energy, spontaneity, reflux: Fick!
            Ah me, the transport properties of a perfect gas, Jesus gas, the ideal talking
to Heaven: a perfect system that probably doesn’t exist on account of numerous
repulsive forces.  I measure completely random paths and rates of effusion.
            So me, it’s come to this, do I think about a German restaurant, or some
J matter?  The rate of migration from this world to the next, is it derived from
a single degree?  Constant ‘t’ to an end-point? t₀ à t_∞ ? or the relationship
between a quantity diffusion parallel to axis ‘z,’ by definition: always coming
at me in Cartesian coordinates.  But then there’s also Minkowski spacetime,
temporal isometry, and a pretty little Lie group.  But then I’m getting off topic,
tangent to the plane, field, meadow, or lea.  Must’ve been the J energy drink,
the Jesus juice, what?  Green tea?  That brings me back to chapter six.

How can I avoid equilibrium?  All I can do is fight it, or, more
peaceably, make changes to the system.  This reminds me of the last scene
of “2001: A Space Odyssey,” a glass dropped, shattering, an irreversible change
to the system, a lesser change to the equilibrium of the room, and
(did you know Robert S. Mulliken was born in the same (Essex) county as
John Hale preached? (in Massachusetts)) silence in space,
where no one can hear you scream, “Gas! Witch!” or “Quantum mechanics!”
            Reverend Hale was a Puritan pastor, a prominent figure during
the Salem Witch Trials, as well as a figure in Arthur Miller’s The Crucible,
a play about a closed system used for heating <x> at high temperatures
at constant (atmospheric) pressure.

            I now invoke the Diffusion Coefficient to be set equal to the gas constant
multiplied by |temperature|, and for that product to be divided by the number
of constituent particles in a substance that contains as many elementary entities as
there are atoms in mass <x>, the number six, the ratio of a circles’ circumference to
its diameter, the radius of an individual constituent particle of that substance,
and its ability to flow, meld, or yield.  But that’s all rheology to me.