WORLD PISS: SPORE OF THE WORDS

Shannanigums Wave (2010) CHAP 1

2011-12-10T12:25:00.001+01:00

Steve Fly 33.

WORLD PISS: 45TH EDITION

2011-11-18T15:48:00.001+01:00

Steve Fly 33.

BAZOOKA JUGSTAPOSITION

2011-05-26T16:03:00.002+02:00

Hi,
I was thinking about a new theme for a 'facebook' note, something popular, fun and universally recognized, and a bit racy, so I made a 'bazooka Jugstapostion' enjoy, Steve-fly (Doctor Marshmallow Cubicle.)

'bazooka Jugstapostion'

Hail to the Old World Babblers

funny bags of bowl me over wisdom

holsters to support the otherworld where

the breast scene of the mammalis mountaintop

gleams lycka' cuple a' slightly chinflated saucers

with fairy cup-cakes and with dark juicy cherries, curved

elliptical hovercraft at a quick glance, oh the quick soft flash

of a gland can be enough to drive us to refute gods, heroes and men

The lightening flash of babby taps tapping

the trifocal mind of humanity, neuron spark to blood rush

to the elongated caramel helicopterpads where I request landing

permission, check, cheek and down we go, off the skislope into next weeks

belly button. Shall I plush it? looking up I spy the golden apple of the sun and

the silver apple of the moon bright through Indra's white and tight night net vest.

Two swell and sprout as if one breast

were the cabbage of Artemis and the other

the whole melon of Hera, both perfect fruits and

vegetables made of flesh to manifest general cone-fusion

and somewhat irrational behaviour: nork-entropy in the spirit

of Aphrodite. The two since 15'000 BC, the lift right in/out cup/

down blouse/white silky (dualistic binary paradigm) shirts out into

the third floating infinitity top, watch you don't bite yr/ drooping tongue

Salvation, oh 'Rrrrr' me beauties

Increased blood flow, more salvation

yelps and shouts: 'oh Jesus,' 'oh my god,

' or... 'BANGERS' on every street worldwild.

'Yes Miss I suspect a good pair of warm exuberant

jugs can defeat a world of thuggery by jugst distracting

the single sighted Newton's sleep of 'phallocentrickery' with

domes domes DOMES, or you might say hemispherical skin cones

Gland furthermore, I Sir Chest

we open a nation of dual citizenship

in 'bazooka jugstapostion' space smooth

contours and variable sizes: (fairly small, slightly

sagging, fairly large, boosters!) shape: pointy moundy

rounded, knap-sack like, and all colors: chocolate brown

fresh cream raspberry pink lemon fresh bazookas to eclipse

the lure of I-pad and farcebook, the G8 Summert and twitter?

Hand curved facetime to a full teat

the toffee-tipped life-force, the perty

nipple-goddess of gravity orbits, the coffee

cup spiral wobbler's to wake our eyes zouted

and cry a sliver of milk. In the case of these eye

sockets and yr/ cleavage opposites attricked firmly.

A pear of goddley's with cream

to make a Monk scream Mosquito bites

real 'gods' and entities you can touch and

commune with, Im not afraid to say that now I come

to know good worship, orbmen! take me to the moon with...

A bust powerful enough to

stop a rocket ship by ejecting

its fuel rods, supple enough to overpower

youtube! nipples tuff enough to withstand titerally

hours of suckling and lip lapping, and not only for a man

to enjoy, understand me please here women suckle too lets

jugst agree to celebrate the breast in 2011, for heavens sake.

Tits time to jugst let them babblers

greet the light of day, show em' the sun

and clouds every chance you get, but don't

get me wrong, I wouldn't want to force a gal'

or anyone to do what they ain't found the will to

do fo' themselves, but, rather, as I say, I'm writing

my thoughts on buns 'out' today, and have to admit

tits make we want to express the bubbling microwave back

ground radiation spilling out my skull and through my eye-ball slits

Bosom magic power

bulbs to change fast as light

hitting any orb. Spring Break, snap,

whoops, (IMF, Giggs, Tiger Tiger) there

they are again, and I can't fight them dummies

so strong like the lure ice cooled beer pipes racked up

Tetons to see and small puppies to touch,

holy 'baps' to make a bishop kick a hole in a

stained glass window. Two planets orbiting a solar

shirt system, suspended upon a complex wrap around

silky horizon, or a lace vehicle that gently lifts and holds

the sacred boulders in place; gently transforming the soft skin

into a two-tone panorama's of grace. Silk, cotton or maybe a latex

bikini or a simple feathery vesticle to frame those norks and have me

confess right here down on my knees that I'm always abreast for suckers.

"hey shall I juss' suck em' and see,

shall I chicken-peck those healthy sacks?

I call to everyone to go on and help wipe the

days toil from your mind, suckle and show some

support, play sport: pick a banana up with mangos

and calculate shadow trajectories, go on, plot trips to

Jupiter's moons and to the far east with Ishtar or north with

Brigit to study each priceless love stone, the Bosom: my holy home.

Big or small no matter

I can handle it. Tits about

the excitement and the 'flash' and

of course a gentle squeeze in the bath

is always a Bhreusy' bonus, a twin win, a chest

of treasure, secret avenue to the stars, a reason to

worship life each morning and to redesign bra's bras.

By cool breasths and girth of Nuit

and Indra and Eleanor of Aquataine's

assets--let the cans fly everywhere--and

let us forever hold holy hooters with the lofty

highest orders of form in the perfected cosmic

orbifold universe: our study of unity in duality, orbmen!

Each areola ring becomes

its own entity in space/time,

each breastooka connecks to

super-cozumos of the spectacular

human body-brain 'interactive' nervous

system, watch the grape swells under vine leaf

Oh mama matrix moist mysterious

let milky way have its creme splendour

at the tip of each gland, a portal to the raw

real gods and goddesses, a sensory playpal

pad and a cresh for life, fleshy docking point for

tactile answers to flow out into the deep questions of

philosophy and cosmology and information theory and...

Q. Why are we here A. to look at breasts and build accordingly?

Q. How did we get here A. by breast as social attractor and baby tap

The twist of the two the

slap on the wrist the DNA

programme to desire orbs in

our round and safe lives, the lack

of naked figures in Forbes! a coupla

free wheeling strawbs to knock a black-hole

through man's hypothalamus otherwise engaged

A pair of dumplings to dump

smiles of awe and wonder into

humanitease face beyond my crude

wishes to feel some whoppers, or prized

anglesea bobblers, Bristol's, Dudleys, shockers

Orbmen!

"handicapped by two breasts in operatops, a remarkable little endowment garment."--James Joyce, Finnegans Wake, pg 532

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grand_Teton

Steven Pratt, Thursaday 26th May, 2011. Amsterdam. NL.

Grand Teton

Sonny Rollins Trio - Softly As in a Morning Sunrise

2011-01-20T15:58:00.000+01:00

DOCTOR MARSHAMALLOW CUBICLE BUURVROUW Part 1

2011-01-11T22:44:00.000+01:00

Alice Coltrane "Blue Nile" (1970)

2010-12-23T02:59:00.000+01:00

WORLD PISS: WINTER SOLSTICE 2010 EDITION

2010-12-21T19:49:00.000+01:00

Fly Agaric and Shannanigums Wave Music

2010-11-28T16:38:00.000+01:00

Shannanigums Wave Book 1 Chapter 1 d by flyagaric23

Zen Trickery, Part 2 by djflyagaric23

Shannanigums Wave Book III Chapter XII by flyagaric23

Shannanigums Wave Book III Chapter 11 Page 67. by flyagaric23

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Steve Fly 33.

DR. MARSHMALLOW CUBICLE SYBLINGS

2010-10-11T13:28:00.000+02:00

PICNIC TIME

Come on come on, we're havin a picnic
Come on, come on, you don't need no ticket
Come on, come on, it's marshy's picnic
Come on, come on, no time to nit pick.

Picnic, Picnic, just you and I and the purple sky,
Picnic, Picnic, eat with me baby, forget our trials
Picnic, Picnic, must we ever leave this hillside
Picnic, Picnic, spreading ten thousand smiles

Marshy, masrhy, get the fuck out of bed
Marshy, marshy, its not a drill, use your head
Marshy, masrshy, put a Mallow in your sack
Marshy, masrcy, don't swallow, mind the crap

Dr, Dr, look, Police in Helicopter
Dr, Dr, look, the Web's off the hook
Dr, Dr, I think the Governments Crazy
Dr, Dr, I think I'll fly through the book

Dr, Dr, please prescribe me, don't bribe me
Marshy marshy, I think an alien's inside me.

GLOCAL YOKEL LOCAL

Listen fuckers, this is word to your mum,
Banging the drum, sucking my thumb, breathing hard
Breathing, hard, thinking of a fascist state, in every back yard,
Nightmare history, death and dying,
Banker fraud abroad, always abroad, never at home
Not yet, don't fret the board room meetings are in progress.

Local yokel glocal
Yokel Glocal Local
Glocal Local Glocal
We're all gone Lobal

Coalition fascists shd/ be under lock and key
Art, crafts, poetry and design are the tools to anarchy
Liberty and freedom of expression and 'freedom' from their
'Freedom'
That has no freedom at all, at all.
Controlled freedom, like a dog on a lead, or a cat in a box
With a poison gas pellet.

Local yokel glocal
Yokel Glocal Local
Glocal Local Glocal
We're all gone Lobal

The resistance of the people defines the Government
Will it. Will it. will it.
Define the ideology
Dwell, sit, dwell sit
Globalism can be a good thing
on a good thing, a good mighty good thing
Corporate Globalism can be a bad thing
A super mighty bad thing, a bad bad thing.

Local yokel glocal
Yokel Glocal Local
Glocal Local Glocal
We're all gone Lobal

Local yokel glocal baby
Local yokel Glocal honey
Local yokel Glocal romance,
Local yokel Glocal people
Local yokel Glocal dance

Local yokel glocal
Yokel Glocal Local
Glocal Local Glocal
We're all gone Lobal

Think Global act local
Think Glocal
Act local think Global
Think Lobel
Shrink Glue Ball,
Thank Low cow.

MARSHMELLOW DOWN

Marshmallow, marshmallow
Marshmallow, mashmallow

From a Martian base in your Kitchen
We travel to mallow thy name
We sit like a Cubicle sybling monk
And melt minds when we spit out the flame

We ride in a candyman caravan
Floating along a toffee terrain
With a truffle liquoire and a bag of manure
The journey leads far down to Spain.

WHERE DO THEY GO?

Where do they go?
When you,
Where do they show?
when you
Where do they flow
When you THINK OF THEM.

Thoughts, oh, thoughts,
Where do they go when
We think of them,
I think that you stink of them

Where do they go?
When I
Where do they Show
When I
Where do they flow
When I
THINK OF THEM.

Thoughts, oh, thoughts,
Where do they go when
We think of them,
I think that you stink of them

Thoughts, oh thoughts,
Spilling out from my shorts
Thoughts of sports
Spilling out from the courts
Thoughts of naughts
Rolling out of the Forts.

Where do they go?
When you,
Where do they show?
when you
Where do they flow
When you THINK OF THEM.

HATCH A THOUGHT.

Hatch a spore, match a draw scratch and gnaw at the floor,
stand up and spit wood, spit leaf and spit keef.
Turn over a new cliche',
touche' tooth ache can make the stake turn hard in the mouth,
Don't fake
a month of bad breath catches the weekly take.,
the daily squeeze and quest for cheese and dairy lights,

Catch a thought, hatch a sport
Its Zero history, back to naught.

all and nothing for something, anything and everything gone 'monk'.
Things in motion, potion in things, fresh bee-stings, songs a lonely child sings,
weekend flings and tings, swimming holes and freshwater springs,
upward fountain and spilt rainbow arches,
gift to the eye with peaches from Iris, and a 'H' to make Irish,
Osiris Oh Char us.

Catch a thought, hatch a sport
Its Zero history, back to naught.

O'Irish blue spill over the algae, white algebra of men,
burnt bras and burnt toast, butter and breasts,
Butter the breasts
Biggles' and Snoopy, shopping for death culture coupons,
palms dry without coconut oil, picnic all over town, get down
on, and on and over the hill with the yellow rays and orange glow
'Terry's' choco-wrapping invades the beach head, oil barrels roll,
oil barons running on ice to Antarctica, penguins in bondage,

Catch a thought, hatch a sport
Its Zero history, back to naught.

Seals sleek heads in cages, while writing these pages,
cities swing in plant pots, chocolates, carrots
soil dries hard around the edges, knife voice cuts the cake,
Wake and bake, its marshy's picnic
cherry and fruit salad makes new headway to the breach,
first shots are fired and its fritters, scallops and blue cheese away.

Catch a thought, hatch a sport
Its Zero history, back to naught.

HAMSTER JAM

Hamsterjam, Hamster Man, Hamster Stan, gangster man
Ham Steak Jam, for Prankster Flann, and Damsta Jam
and Hamster-Jam make Ganja Ham

Jam, hamsters, Ham, and Ganja
Slam, gangsters, spam and Ginger

Welcome to the Dam-age
Holding back a torrent of Ham,
Greetings Dr. Flann, is that fresh Ham in your Jam?
"Ham! Ham!... I'll have you know its prime Hamster, man!"
Hamster, Hamster, are you out of your wig?
"Ham's not from hamster's dude, Ham comes from Pig'

Jam, hamsters, Ham, and Ganja
Slam, gangsters, spam and Ginger

If Pig Jam makes you squeal
Hamster Jam on your next meal may
Make your feel dam sick as a pig, you dig?

Jam, hamsters, Ham, and Ganja
Slam, gangsters, spam and Ginger

MEAT SAUCE:

meat sauce, meat sauce,
Slurry of a nation in a hurry, it ain't funny

meat sauce, meat sauce,
Dirty rotten shit, dip it slurp it swill it, spit.

meat sauce, meat sauce,
with a carbohydro-hippo spice, drink a pint, hey that ain't nice.

meat sauce, meat sauce, meat sauce.

THE DOOBIE CUBICLE SYBLINGS

Step,
Step into my cubicle
hey sweet baby, take of your shirt, honey
you can loose the shoes and loose the tights,
The panties and the skirt sugar, sweet!
Hello, hello dear, my names Doctor Marshmallow,

The DOOBIE Cubicle Syblings
The DOOBIE Cubicle Syblings
The DOOBIE Cubicle Syblings

I know it’s a little cold, baby ruth
Sorry, my new instrument must warm up.
Your breathing very well, let me see,
Ah, yes, you have healthy lungs,

The DOOBIE Cubicle Syblings
The DOOBIE Cubicle Syblings
The DOOBIE Cubicle Syblings

Just relax dear, sit back stick out your tongue,
Yes, ah, uh huh, oh, yes, just one marshmallow,
There we go honey, close your eyes now,
And... Swallow, think of candy now, and
Dr. Marshmallow 

The DOOBIE Cubicle Syblings
The DOOBIE Cubicle Syblings
The DOOBIE Cubicle Syblings

Welcome to my kiosk dear, but hush we must be quick,
Yes, we’re doctors, and lovers too.
Travelled here from Europa in a milk-chocolate helicopter,
Powered with golden syrup. Listen honey,
Listen, close your eyes, I have a story ,
A mellow bath for you. Relax.

The DOOBIE Cubicle Syblings
The DOOBIE Cubicle Syblings
The DOOBIE Cubicle Syblings

DR. SQUEAL GOOD, DR.

A marsh dosage box of meme juju served static
A beat box of electric spores.
Mellow temporarily, loud shock cell-smash and warped edge,
cubicle syrup and candy up the walls. Sound splatter.
Marshmallow claws to the valve amp through swamp under full moon
'taste this noun honey-pie’ and now follow me to the Marsh room. 
DR. SQUEAL GOOD, DR.
Sugar coated mints and faces glow mellow, camera flash,
study of alien war box noise, step into the cubicle. Step out.
Increase dosage outside the noise box.
"Dr please prescribe me Marshmallow.
Marshy Picinic, we all eat for free, be mellow
Marshy Picnic tripping ball's on LSD playing cello 
DR. SQUEAL GOOD, DR.
Coffee store shaft to the spongy echo-box.
So stay mellow as a Dr. get whipped-up daily in sativa gelatine,
step into the cubicle room of Marshy Taste Dr. Escher cakes
and the dutch health spore system, Sewn into the lives of a musical cookie jar.
Step into the slagroom, the candy box kiosk, where drugs and alien-dreamtime are
served up in a Dr. Mallow booth. A head-set in each booth, a fire in the room-jelly. 
DR. SQUEAL GOOD, DR.
Monopoly on Culture, more syrup, stuck, even swords move slow,
walls jammed, the flow stopped. Dr. Candyman eats a government
treaty while taking a bath in his Shed.

DR. SQUEAL GOOD, DR.

What new cookie of government? wave goodbye to money walls,
what you know ain’t so. Cheese & Chives, woe, step into the kiosk,
look at our wide confectionary, lick the walls in the cubicle,
but, government next door sells hemp-fuel logic.

DR. SQUEAL GOOD, DR.

Dr. dosage and the shaft-monk box, sweet drugs in schools (syrup cafe syrup cake)
rank of cookie? government turkey and slurry like cubicle gelatine experiment,
music like spores, chemical workings with bonds to break government.
Drugs don’t mix. Cheese confectionary meets spam canning factory,
who knows the dosage Dr?

DR. SQUEAL GOOD, DR.

Game set and spores, Cell growth, slow to share out of the box,
music and shared value (camera corn beer and shaft)
sponge cakes are coming. Women sewing with Hemp-fibre,
Dr Marshmallow in fondal parks, Amsterdam Office of hugs and squeezing.
Oi, oi, Huygens glow of spores, snort these LSD spores mate,
woe be shaft you up Chi-oops. Hemp-fibre, what, News, who’s, what?
Coffee, news, TV, news, what, coffee, TV, what, news, when, tobacco?

DR. SQUEAL GOOD, DR.

But, which whipped Shed, Shed, Monroe Crow,
coffee syrup and syrup Monroe prompt owe cookie box, slow,
a cause&effect study in alien sword in shouler, money Booth,
Cell, box, grow box, grow.
A rank • is fro, call whipped library Culture row, with Joe,
whipped syrup rank Cheese Marshmallow slagroom,
1609 sativa prompt for rank, prompt for beer. Value, tonight?

DR. SQUEAL GOOD, DR.

This cubicle contains freedom, and the outside too.
Pro-set monopoly confection Judo, gods and Escher,
the sugar coat of government arms, prompt the spores to fall,
shaft of church down black-hole avenue, to shift of government,
shaft shift, shaft shift. Great Spinoza box-zone of taste flow,
honey dripping hemp-fuel and the alien dosage from
opium government UK.

DR. SQUEAL GOOD, DR.

News room booth locked. Safety in Judo, spores and fire,
outside the JFK Cubicle Howard Hunt counts chickens.
Those alien drugs from New York work Dr, what coffeeshop on sixth avenue?
The shed next-door to mallow cafe
Put a Marshmallow in your ear.
Put a marshmallow in your ear.
Put a tear in your beer, eat this dear.

Composed and Decomposed by Steve 'fly agaric' 23.

DR. MARSHMALLOW FACEBOOK
DR. MARSHMALLOW MYSPACE
DR. MARSHMALLOW SOUNDCLOUD

Blues Nurse - DOCTOR MARSHMALLOW CUBICLE SYBLINGS by flyagaric23

2010 words on the Gulf Oil Spill (edited from a previous poem)

2010-07-08T15:13:00.000+02:00

2010 words on the Gulf Oil Spill (edited from a previous poem)

“Us clams must stick apart” –Feudal Baron Periwinkle III.

Aphrodite rose from sea foam in film.
A centrifugal waterspout, sucking out the poison.

A Shell and a Sunflower are branded,
Sucked of meaning.
Twisted arms of godsoilmen
Workers, investers, safety chiefs,
Some work with sludge in hands
Some on the tongue, others dodge
Regulators.

Meet the supermajors
Finance and business from sifting Oil
Gulf scoop past oily Slick Cheney
Eating Warburtons with Shell fish

We roe past energy task force positions.
In still of night, calm waters, we release
The mycelium.
From the world Clam.

The Galloping Scallop clad man of greek myth come up
Knights of the Periwinkle clown swimming,
Bejewelled with clam lips and kisses.

Rich blue Oil spill or mother of pearl?
Like blended parrots and dead plankton,
Mixed emulsions. Beautiful Miss Oil Spill?
How can I find beauty in this Oil terror? I tried
And reality slapped me across the Horizon

Crude awakening to the spill-age.
A Collosal squid princess come's up
Riding old Jakobsschelp, a Mycelium Goddess
To help a Hutch load of old scallops rise out
The Seafloor Blues
And infiltrate the slick.

The Deep sea Mollusc speak out:
“Lo! Scallops of the ocean,
Down by the great rising Chiefs of coral.
Take this Big Periwinkle into your earshel and Smell the sign
Touch the logo and ask:
How many ridges does a dream have?

Who regulates the regulator’s.
Dead Plankton in the paint
And the city sewers flowoil
Heed the clam of commerce and the
Cockle-shock shimmy of stock.
What sea-shell, what Sunflower?

Up comes a horse covered in Scallops,
Prince Periwinkle gargling:
“Skullops for one shelling a dollop”

Sea wave-wind Mussels flex into fossils.
The smell of oilamp from the limpet.
“Lets Oil the Oystery of Oil and stir with a staff,
Lets foil sharks with electric shocks,
Struck coil!”.

“Swim with the titanic Semantic shift,
Up out the shell flower.
Again, to tell a snail tale of the planetary shaft.
Rock Drill. Oil Men. Usury. Greed.
Son’s of Thunder Juice, Snel, quick up
To defend the word.
A sea slug with untold feet runs with you
On a hyperbolic plane.

Hoily Tools of the Big Petrol scoop
Walloping the marine scene with oil sheen.
Another spellage. Ocean deep n' blue and
Black rusty red, bloody.

Petrochem generation X. Drill here.
Die here. Who makes the plans, the cuts,
The safety checks, who sets the profits,
Who banks in the cayman Islands, and
Exploits every loop-hole, who, now who.

So wee rise up like foam,
Mycelium to eat the Oil
My thoughts on it: I ride a bike.

Waxy Parrot Snot in the sea bank
How to dress up a death spill?

Casting Shells from my hand,
The wavy lines trace a swellmighty calm.
His Holiness the Buddhaclam Caliph of Pearl
Comes up, out of the Santiago Shell mound gate
To tell us of what fate?

Great clam emperor of the
Mollusca lineage comes up
“By nature the sign, 500 Million years of geometry spun
Into this Sunflower, into this Shell. What lies?”

The Duke Periwinkle of Clam tissue
And the Ivory Sheen realm
Comes up
“Look down the well. Oily DEA and ivory salt newspaper
Scalping truth, their lies litter our vessel,
Truth and beauty from underwater vents”

Meanwhile oilmen pollute the ocean-Green with
Sculpted Pipe lines, crime lines, below
Waves of DEA projects, No Oildea how sticky
the handshell shakes over the Sunflower.
Ode to the Great Old One's,
Please hear us and help a sign-sailor resist
A super-major temptress,
Ocean blackmail.

Oil spill, pipe-line, spoil, Usury, coercion,
Interference with natural deep sea black smokers

Oyster Gods of ancient oceans sculpt the wave
And weave pearls
Serpents teeth sew
Sew Sew an oil net to stop the leak.

A solution in the name of thy snakeoil potion,
Rise up Sea-meat wonders with one hundred eyes
You that dwell upon Old heraldic shields,
Rise up like bubbles and show us your shape.

If only Molluscs could grow wings?
Dutch English American Oil statistics?
More scallops?

Now our chariot of sea gods roam the ocean wide
With the Sigil of Galloping Periwinkles,
Sea weed tales of a great green whale and
A clam with hinged jaws.

Big Blood and looting operation disaster
After disaster, after disaster.
We charge the water and turn the planet
Back into a healthy paradise,
In this poem.

Our Seal: Coningklick.
We raise a toast to Scallops and the food of Godzilla,
And celebrate the marvel of Clam propulsion.
Bio-technology is trying to show us HOW.

Venusa comes up
Surfing on a scallop, leading with a shell in hat
And staff in hand.

Ms. C. Scholar and her mussel
Swimming down Saint James's glory-gate to
Oil Cow & coo

“Now Scoop it. What News Independence.
Who distributes it, how?

And the church wants TTOTTAL Informollusc awaveness.
Sculpt a skull and crossbones in the Crude
Awakening to sea Pirates.
Send in Jack Sparrow to help waterworld.”

Cockoily and Crude Millions scalloped out
Of the earth's body PO.
To the Botticelli Shell-mex
Mix of Soupermajor Bumbling Patroilmen.

Heart of calcite, home of crystal, listen,
I Toil to swim with the Amateur Swimming Association
Esso sponsored swimming, like
Greenpeace sponsored Oil Drilling.

Pick a Shell and drink our James Juice.
The word can plug that sucker up.
The word, the vessel of communication.

The sacred periwinkle proportion.
Now sea gold and Periwinkle Cockle
And aragonite Shillyshellying,
On land we're all out of gas?

Crashing oil and Blood in synchronous waves,
Half-mollusc, half man with vulva comes up,
The crowned Cuthulu cult riding a clam to shore,

To soil on past British Patrolingmen.
We and the sea leagues of 93’000 species
Of Mollusc, and cuttlefish, calcium from sea foam
We are the froth of Saint James Juice.
We lament the spill to blunt the drill,
Gather and think to cap and fill.

Rock Drill and Throne.
HOLY Scollop of truth Swim on your way!
Scooping the word and sludge, selling lies.
How deep does the drill hole go?
Blue Black pills sp'ills?

Up comes the Count of cockles
To calculate fossil fuel foolishness.
Re-shore em’ that Oystery contains Pearls.
History is ours, oceanic.

Hollow Earth Krewe come up to protect the crust.
Don't drill, hear!
Listen, HEMP!
Pull down thy vanity,
Pull up thy drill rig.

The silver pink flesh of salmon
Emerald sea weed and Electric blue
Dance on our Shield.

What pearls lie in the sign?
Schaaldrake Unreeled from the Well,
The conscious net.
The day of the Dolphin Gulf prayer,
calling all Oystery’s hero’s.

Winds blow above the abyss of humanity
Deep space
Mind link sleeping beauty on the sea bed.
Awake.

A clamber of underwater shimmers
“What the devil’s covering you, old directors?”
Holy floor, must be peak oil time!

Fisherman on fire, Oil brigade, fire brigade
What Sustenance?
Entangled oil pipline artery of earth rot?
Well well well, Oil be damned!

The dead seamen-oil-blood transfusion.
The workers that died, the injured?

Investigative poetry safety bill,
The profit margin and depths of energy mob
Investment.

The TAX dodge.
The Tectonic shifts and shafts of geopolitics.
The ocean gods versus the greedy monkey man.

Swallow the shilly-shally sea
And go a’ rummaging
Through tears,
Craft a dam good idea.
Boom, boundary and boundary dissolution
Be A solution

The ocean, the salt.
Oil and sea water mixed.
A mussel bound with a wisdom tongue in a Dutch
Pit, Venus in shell, A tongue enters shell.
That feminine Scallop.

Yes, make love, and drill for love
In a land bed, not a sea bed,
Drilling for oil, making death.

Beware the starfish and oystercatchers
The Condi Rice tankers,
Our boat enters the earshells of Leviathon.
Invisible on a mind wave,
Seers are feeding,
We meditate on bivalvia underground chants
We grow new ears from our Gulf of tears.

Total germs and a fake Sunflower
A suspect Shell and five sided fuel mob are
Apprehended by Sea worms.

Please dive off the Euro board, twist and tuck pike
Summersault in James Juice.
Send word, make merry love.

Hoily Houses Haunt the Oystery sauce.
The currents of Oysery in the Musselmen’s mind.
How to Oil the machine and then stir, sir?
Who distributes it, how?

Scallop filtration of nature’s Mouth pit.
The Dogon Dragon’s of ocean deep
Breathing black smoke
The mouth to hell.

Up comes,
Hermaphrodite of the black-gold waters.
Global eyes of the oceanic gleam
Where Ibskal speak of sea diamonds, pearls
Nommo booty.

Do not disturb the Calm mud.
Look Deep, look well , Deeper.
Lick the James Juice-oil, drink the poison
And ride the snake to the pit of Saint DEA,
Eat them all, spit fire and burn off.

To planet Exo-Clamboil.
Go drill land if you must drill.
Elders send word of Hopi,
Inducing Amanita Mollusca.
Sometides wash nutrients up Ripples of the great
Allrudy wish-ways, ripples and
Baron periwinkles dimples.
Smiles.

Chevrollop, clamswallop, wham, Bully Peakoil
Big Shh’ galaxy, in silence.
Sit ans send ‘word’ shaman styles.
Get roots, touch and ingest earth.

And inside the noble clam chamber
Mr. Mussel finds shelter from transfusions
And Cockledoom on a dinner plate. He says:

“Oh shil, you supermajor logo shystirs.
Rumble of waves around scalloped edge
Where Venus teleports - to visit ecstatic ten-thousand
Million hundred gallons.

And Brand new standards, drink the ocean ink
Of clam soup, Ingest the Hoily Ocean Extracts
Spit fire and burn of excess Vapourdiz

Wade through the bauxite,
Don’t step on our eggshares
Show foresight. Transparent business
Transparent waters, in soiled by fuel addiction.

Juice the wellwell markets, be merry,
Ppeak into these eggshawls. Schelp,
I need some clammy mammy?
Muscle and sperm of capitol, testoss and hydrocarbons,
Spilling on land, sea and air. Who’s share
Who...and how?

Thankyou, the pearls really shine.
500 Million years of Scallop evolution
Sculpted from chalk with tyme.
Real Crotch Oil spread and royal flush
Roe Smoothie ripple?
The synchro-swimming around,
Mixing a schaal Pink into the rusty current.

Shellfish swim for Global ecosystem
And it’s edges.
Interconnected, balanced, shared biological systems
Ecological logic and example, begging to be copied
By Human industry, ECOnomic.

The taste and the Zap,
Filtering compost on a sea-bed,
The underwater awakening like Fungus,
The Clam infiltrates the swill.
To Clam the cap, and Clam the leak.

Shell shaped filler, nature’s way has your answer
Physics of plugging.
Heaven and Hell,
The birth canal off Lucifer von Periwinkle and his
Turned Kingdom of Oilmen! Lo,
The Darth Vader, using modern technology:
The force,
To extract fuel from our mothers vitalorgans

The chatter and Swell at the centre of the Earth.
The Venus Princess and the Vulva of life,
New birth.

Up against the rig,
Marian’s well like a Mermaid's pool
Moist and as a peachy love nest.

Master of devices and of painted Green weeds.
Help us Grow. Overcome Oils vices.
A Pilgrim Artefact slyjacked.
Van Gogh’s Sunflowers stolen by British thieves.

Marian! Murmur and maid,
With comb and mirror,
Homeless, bedless.
Comb exchanged for a clam-pick to pluck
Our Lyre songs of ocean goddesses vs.
Godsoilmen.

Merry tinkles of shells and deep-blues for heads.
Shimmer of garments, skirt trim with coral.
Oh yeah, to schell the proof to buy the truth.
Can’t buy these shell shoes sir.
Only our boat is for sail.

Sea Red and sigil read
Backwards. Michelle, and her pink mantle.
Swimming with our vows
To explore the edges of the Sun behind
The sun, the Sirius star system of
Galactic ideas, focused on the Gulf Hole.

Elixir of Baron Periwinkle
To makes a tasty tipple.
A plug mixture, to cap the hole with a
Fungus cap. An intelligent goo.

A tale of a virus so vile to us! Oil.
With a treacherous hijacked Scallop
Snapping at your toe,
Hoily mollusc of Saint James,
Protect all sea life.

Claims the clams that a clamp down on
Periwinkle’s clump, a cap oer’ the hole to hell
Dive down and pry benearth,
Think.

The Venus Mermaiden’s
Have risen from the sea to show you how
She-sails.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Petition to try to save the What? Centre

WHAT? CENTRE TO CLOSE IN OCTOBER.

After 25 years of The What? Centre being in the Borough and helping thousands of young
people and their parents and wider family, we will close in October unless we can persuade the
Local Authority to make a ‘U turn’ on their decision to cut all of their funding for our service.
WHAT CAN YOU DO TO HELP US?
1.
Sign our petition either in the street or at the Centre
2.
Help to fill our graffiti wall with positive comments about the Centre
3.
Join our facebook
4.
Take some petition forms and get them filled in by your colleagues
5.
Email us with your stories about the What? Centre and how it has helped you on
thewhatcentre@aol.com
6. Help us with writing funding bids
7. Contact your Local MP or councilors or leader of the Council Anne Milward
8. Write letters to the newspapers, i.e. Stourbridge News, Dudley News and Express
and Star expressing your concerns.
Thank you for all your help, without you it will be impossible to have any hope of turning
around this decision. Telephone No: of What? 01384 379992. Address : 23 Coventry Street,
Stourbridge DY8 1EP.

Petition to try to save the What? Centre

Petition summary:The Local Authority has cut our funding for advice work. This means almost certain closure of the What? Centre

Action petitioned for:
We, the undersigned, are young people and partners of the What? Centre who urge our council leaders to re-think their decision to cut 100% of the funding they provide to this service

Signature
Address
Comment
Date

Please return this petition to The What? Centre, 23 Coventry Street, Stourbridge DY8 1EP
This petition will be presented to John Polychronakis, Chief Executive of Dudley Council & Anne Millward, Lead Member for Dudley Council

Friday, July 2, 2010

Who What Why Where When? Stour CLAY?

Up the Stourbridge Glass cone went our lonely hero.

Up and out the top of great Glass factory where

Stourbridge Clay lead to a Crystal meme sale
Of Wonka.

Royal Clay from the earth,

Mud and clay people, clay artists

And what is Industry? Who owns it and how?

Sandstone and Rocks of earth,

Geological formations, coal, bones, calcium

Oil are from the earth, how can we own them?

Who’s industry and patent, who’s business?

Earth business and man business.

Trees and paper.

Rivers and River banks.

The Indus Tree
The Rowen Tree
The Great World Tree
Twig Drizzle.

What is money and how did it get that way

In Stourbridge

Who set the gold standard?

How are Royals majestic?

Why no Glass pipes in Stourbridge?

Who’s pencil that draws the boundary

Who’s eye’s to perceive the line, the divisions

And divisions.

Who’s visions and translations of God.

Who’s Christ Jesus story,

Who’s pen, who’s now

Who’s when?

What Gods give the all seeing eye?

Who’s shepherd and who’s sheep?

Where in the small print?

What authority do you claim on this earth here?

Who’s feet and hands walked and dug,

Work for who and for what?

God and Earth, God or Earth.

Who measures the weight,

How did the instruments get that way?

What is your margin of error tolerance?

What about humans who did not vote

How can you represent us, Oh Politician?

How can you represent Earth or God

Truth and sanity?

How do you represent?

What media do you share, what is private

And what is public representation.

All property maybe theft,

All things may lead back to earth

Why laws prohibiting Marijuana and LSD

And tax breaks for Monsanto, Glaxosmith?

Open source education, on-line schooling

Open Source Omniversity is underway

I am a proponent of the shared arts of

Education.

We are the Maybe Logic Academy

See Magick, NLP, and Non-Euclidean politics.

We are the representatives of the Black Country

We draw the lines and erase the boundaries

We are the creative heart of the Blackcountry

Writers, poets, painters, sculptors, dancers.
What Royal stamp?

Art is our shared language of resistance

To reshape and edit our worlds, shared worlds

Shared Inhabited realities, built by urban Shaman

Shared through voluntary risk and struggle.

Artists and the equivalence theory?

10’000 hours of hard crafting and grafting

vs. 5 seconds it takes sign a contract?

And forward along the credit,

Borrowed from the Royal chest,

Bottomless, Jewel encrusted and in league

With the printers of the majestic paper?

Who makes the paper Majestic and how?

What economic knowledge?

Excuse me, usury?

Basic truth of fairness and equality

Humanity.

To have equal share of the profits

Divided honestly and equally,

Economics without distortion and the

Genghis Kahn virus:

The biggest and most powerful,

The richest and most brutal

Rule.

I present Open Source Economies

Transparency and new Social Credit systems

Employment seems a kind of disease,

Spreading bad business practice, bully boy tactics

Lawyer Run Capitalism.

The core of Conservative Rule.

The core of Deaf Labour,

And even the liberals hate the poor

What of sub minorities?

Why highlight something as flimsy as race?

To base wrongheaded policy and funding scheme?

What do you mean?

You do not represent me, my friends and my experiences

Within the territory you claim to represent.

In fact everything you say it is, it isn’t.

British Labour danced in a conservative agenda dressed in

Blood Red bondage gear.

Another Christian evangelical called Blair,

In league with Bush and Cheney.

Hello...corporal Malvern.

We have seen your continued conservative trickery

Over 34 years.

Every day in Britain, under the boot of the Big

London Banks, the Christian American Business

Partnership.

The discrimination against minorities,

Against self owning ones, against social co-operatives

From Thatcher to Major, to Blair, to Brown and Cameron.

No change in the crying game, the lies, the support

Of military intervention for private interest

Continued useless and failed, failing
Multi Billion Pound

War on some drugs, and the Irony of British Opium history

Poppy fields and Government Heroin cartels.

Oh, don’t start me to talking,

And backing up my lines with historical evidence.

Labour/Conservative, what is the difference?

Politics has become a business game show,

Played by some families with large fortunes.

Why do we love our Royalty so much?

And so our political leaders and goons that beg pardons

Beg spies and join the privileged classes.

The language of Army Majors, the

Mind of a serial killer and temper of a psychopath.

The role of a modern representative is best described as

Henchmen of the Devil and his
Lawyer Run Apocalypse

John Adams came to Town in 1786.

Lo! The gravity of the situation

The measure of damage and death, destruction

Globally based on British rule

Balanced with the great help we give foreign nations?

Our Industry and Heritage is the double cross system.

Getting the otherside to work for us,

Laywer Run Capitalism and Banking Monopoly

American, Dutch and Swiss Banks.

Abe Lincoln say what?

American, Dutch and English slavery history?

Why make a man work for what is inherently his?

The Earth and God within, without and throughout all men

All space and time?

What of light? Who owns light?

Can you really buy a star and name it?

What if the stars named you?

What is a Stourbridge Clay Kitchenette?

FOIL SPILL

2010-06-17T16:18:00.001+02:00

Foil Spill.

Prayer? is that all that is left now, to help fix the leak
Miles beneath the ocean floor.
Meanwhile wikileaks performs by example,
No secrets, we can handle it.
By the looks of things, they cannot handle anything.

Intelligence, Government and their media circus
Spins death and destruction with celebrity sickness
Anomalies cast as 'the common view'
The usual political shit flinging,
Bankers running off with the profits from a disaster
Over and over again.

Large corporations and intelligence gathering
Services combine forces, a fog of business
Enterprise, foreign finance interest, and
Defense of the sovereign, the flag, the logo.

In the name of profit and business
Money and power broking, we all go broke.
The ocean's choke.

Wild conspiracies rage about conspiracies
Just breathing together, or
Blowing out together, the earth conspires to
Errupt.

Mankind conspires to corrupt.
Truth and fairness the first victims,
Information tarnished, smudged and dirtied
Like a working mon's dungaree.

Cleaness and transparency share a bed.
BP and wikileaks clash,
Facts and spin can be distinguished,
And distinguished by individuals,
Smoke can be exstinguished by transparency
In communications, in economy, government,
And oil drilling operations.

Drilling for the truth,
Maybe deepwater Horizon struck wikileaks
And blew its top, the pressures getting so high
They blew all the covers and fail safe's
The shit is out and in the ocean
In the infosphere, and cannot be put back again.

The pangs and pain of anguish,
The death and destruction and disinformation
Spread out by those hired to help us,
Contrasting the bare sharing and open
Efforts to save humanity from the 'single
sighted' sleeping monster that is
Intelligence, Banking and Government coercion
Stalking the land, fucking shit up.

And yet,
We will endure further attacks on civility
And forgive mistakes blunders and accidents
Of the worst kind, and forgive the fleecing and
Bad reporting or (lack of fair reporting)
By any so called 'major' news source.

International finance has its fingers in
Most pies, newsmedia, TV and Oil business in particular,
A spectacular nefarious mix of power brokers
Money and beef men, Cheney and Bush types.
To mean Criminal terrorists.

And the US crime squad launches an attack on
Julian Assange, while the BP executives
Sit down for spilt cofee and biscuits.

BP profit leaks kill humans and fish
Wikileaks does not kill, it does the opposite
It informs and provides information,
The Life of the mind.

What of the hair booms and hay solutions
To mopping up the spill, not used by BP
What of the chemicals sprayed and the
Lack of testing and collaboration with locals to its use.

What of the deepest drill hole in the world?
What of other chemicals coming out with the oil?
What of dropping a huge block on top
What of the nuke and the dame done?

What of the miss-calculations and
Wrongheaded statistics, the lies and sly mistakes,
What of BP, and other oil companies,
And what of the governments that regulate them
And the people who vote for them?
What of blame, and forgiveness,
And what,
What on earth can we do to apologise
To the creatures killed, or dying
From this disaster?

--Baron Von Periwinkle III

Steve Fly 33.

FINNEGANS WIKI

2010-06-07T02:52:00.005+02:00

Mark Pesce recently released 'the book' version 1.0, of 'share this book' it has been an on-going project (share this course) that a group of web entities and "I" participated in, somewhat, over the last 6 months. I have taken the liberty of reproducing a small part of his text, taken from a presentation he made titled 'whatever happened to the book' and a part of particular interest to me as a 'Joycephile' and student of 'maybelogic' the many lives and ideas of Robert Anton Wilson.

So here I have added a sprinkle of 'hyperlinks' to those already added by Mark. (Hope thats cool?) Most of them link to 'wikipedia' entries, some connect to external sources and 'Joycean' articles and sites...Plus works by Mark Pesce...the architect of these words, thanks, steve.

Part Three: Finnegans Wiki.

So what of Aristotle? What does this mean for the narrative?
It is easy to conceive of a world where non-fiction texts simply
dissolve into the universal sea of texts. But what about
stories? From time out of mind we have listened to stories
told by the campfire. The Illiad, The Mahabharata, and
Beowolf held listeners spellbound as the storyteller wove the
tale. For hours at a time we maintained our attention and
focus as the stories that told us who we are and our place in
the world traveled down the generations.

Will we lose all of this? Can narratives stand up against the
centrifugal forces of hypertext? Authors and publishers both
seem assured that whatever happens to non-fiction texts, the
literary text will remain pure and untouched, even as it
becomes a wholly electronic form. The lure of the literary text
is that it takes you on a singular journey, from beginning to
end, within the universe of the author’s mind. There are no
distractions, no interruptions, unless the author has expressly
put them there in order to add tension to the plot. A wellwritten
literary text – and even a poorly-written but wellplotted
‘page-turner’ – has the capacity to hold the reader
tight within the momentum of linearity. Something is a ‘pageturner’
precisely because its forward momentum effectively
blocks the centrifugal force. We occasionally stay up all night
reading a book that we ‘couldn’t put down’, precisely because
of this momentum. It is easy to imagine that every literary
text which doesn’t meet this higher standard of seduction will
simply fail as an electronic book, unable to counter the
overwhelming lure of the medium.

This is something we never encountered with printed books:
until the mid-20th century, the only competition for printed
books was other printed books. Now the entire Web – already
quite alluring and only growing more so – offers itself up in
competition for attention, along with television and films and
podcasts and Facebook and Twitter and everything else that
has so suddenly become a regular feature of our media diet.
How can any text hope to stand against that?

And yet, some do. Children unplugged to read each of the
increasingly-lengthy Harry Potter novels, as teenagers did for
the Twilight series. Adults regularly buy the latest novel by
Dan Brown in numbers that boggle the imagination. None of
this is high literature, but it is literature capable of resisting
all our alluring distractions. This is one path that the book
will follow, one way it will stay true to Aristotle and the
requirements of the narrative arc. We will not lose our
stories, but it may be that, like blockbuster films, they will
become more self-consciously hollow, manipulative, and
broad. That is one direction, a direction literary publishers
will pursue, because that’s where the money lies.

There are two other paths open for literature, nearly
diametrically opposed. The first was taken by JRR Tolkien in
The Lord of the Rings. Although hugely popular, the threebook
series has never been described as a ‘page-turner’, being
too digressive and leisurely, yet, for all that, entirely
captivating. Tolkien imagined a new universe – or rather,
retrieved one from the fragments of Northern European
mythology – and placed his readers squarely within it. And
although readers do finish the book, in a very real sense they
do not leave that universe. The fantasy genre, which Tolkien
single-handedly invented with The Lord of the Rings, sells
tens of millions of books every year, and the universe of
Middle-Earth, the archetypal fantasy world, has become the
playground for millions who want to explore their own
imaginations. Tolkien’s magnum opus lends itself to
hypertext; it is one of the few literary works to come complete
with a set of appendices to deepen the experience of the
universe of the books. Online, the fans of Middle-Earth have
created seemingly endless resources to explore, explain, and
maintain the fantasy. Middle-Earth launches off the page,
driven by its own centrifugal force, its own drive to unpack
itself into a much broader space, both within the reader’s
mind and online, in the collective space of all of the work’s
readers. This is another direction for the book. While every
author will not be a Tolkien, a few authors will work hard to
create a universe so potent and broad that readers will be
tempted to inhabit it. (Some argue that this is the secret of JK
Rowling’s success.)

Finally, there is another path open for the literary text, one
which refuses to ignore the medium that constitutes it, which
embraces all of the ambiguity and multiplicity and liminality
of hypertext. There have been numerous attempts at
‘hypertext fiction’; nearly all of them have been unreadable
failures. But there is one text which stands apart, both
because it anticipated our current predicament, and because
it chose to embrace its contradictions and dilemmas. The
book was written and published before the digital computer
had been invented, yet even features an innovation which is
reminiscent of hypertext. That work is James Joyce’s
Finnegans Wake, and it was Joyce’s deliberate effort to make
each word choice a layered exploration of meaning that gives
the text such power. It should be gibberish, but anyone who
has read Finnegans Wake knows it is precisely the opposite.
The text is overloaded with meaning, so much so that the
mind can’t take it all in. Hypertext has been a help; there are
a few wikis which attempt to make linkages between the text
and its various derived meanings (the maunderings of four
generations of graduate students and Joycephiles), and it may
even be that – in another twenty years or so – the wikis will
begin to encompass much of what Joyce meant. But there is
another possibility. In so fundamentally overloading the text,
implicitly creating a link from every single word to something
else, Joyce wanted to point to where we were headed. In this,
Finnegans Wake could be seen as a type of science fiction, not
a dystopian critique like Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World,
nor the transhumanist apotheosis of Olaf Stapleton’s
Starmaker (both near-contemporary works) but rather a text
that pointed the way to what all texts would become,
performance by example. As texts become electronic, as they
melt and dissolve and link together densely, meaning
multiplies exponentially. Every sentence, and every word in
every sentence, can send you flying in almost any direction.
The tension within this text (there will be only one text) will
make reading an exciting, exhilarating, dizzying experience –
as it is for those who dedicate themselves to Finnegans Wake.

It has been said that all of human culture could be
reconstituted from Finnegans Wake. As our texts become
one, as they become one hyperconnected mass of human
expression, that new thing will become synonymous with
culture. Everything will be there, all strung together. And
that’s what happened to the book.

--by MARK PESCE. FUTURE PRESENT

.

Steve Fly 33.

http://www.sharethiscourse.org/

http://sharethiscourse.wikispaces.com/SPACE.Fly_scratchpad

SUN RA: INTERVIEWS & ESSAYS and...

2010-05-02T00:46:00.004+02:00

Last year in 2009 I was kindly asked by John Sinclair to contribute to a upcoming HEADPRESS book project about the great Astro Black enigma: Sun Ra. I jumped at the chance and set to work on writing a piece that became 'The Myth Art and Music of Sun Ra'.

I received two copies of the book this week (28th April 2010) and am thrilled to be included within a bounty of Sun Ra research and galactic feedback, to be among literary hero's of mine such as Amiri Baraka and John Sinclair, who together have been tirelessly promoting Sun Ra for over forty years, and Black Music and culture generally for more than five decades.

I added some 'hyperlinks' to details provided at the HEADPRESS website page for SUN RA: INTERVIEWS & ESSAYS. Edited by JOHN SINCLAIR. (2010)

Contents:

By way of an Introduction by Peter Dennett
Sun Ra by Amiri Baraka
Sun Ra Visits Planet Earth by John Sinclair
It Knocks on Everybody’s Door by John Sinclair: Interview with Sun Ra, Detroit Sun, 1966
Cosmic Catalyst by David Henderson: Sun Ra in New York City, Oakland & Philadelphia
Word from Sun Ra by Amiri Baraka
Their Space Was My Place by Ben Edmonds: Sun Ra & the MC-5 at the Grande Ballroom, Detroit, 2009
Life Is Splendid by John Sinclair: Sun Ra at the Ann Arbor Blues & Jazz Festival, 1972
Interview with Amiri Baraka by Lazaro Vega, Grand Rapids, Michigan, 1999
I Know Everything You Need to Know About Music by John Sinclair: A Conversation with Michael Ray
Arkestra in Residence by Rick Steiger: Sun Ra & His Arkestra at the Detroit Jazz Center, 1980
Sun Ra Memories by John Sinclair
Twenty-first Century Music by Pete Gershon: The Sun Ra Arkestra under the direction of alto saxophonist Marshall Allen
The Great and Wondrous Sun Ra by John Sinclair: In Conversation with Wayne Kramer, London, June 2008
My Night as a Tone Scientist by Wayne Kramer
Cosmic Engineering: Jerry Dammers & the Spatial aka Orchestra / Part 1: Interview with Jerry Dammers by John Sinclair & Dylan Harding, London, 2009 / Part 2: Concert reviews by Paul Bradshaw, John Mulvey, Ian Harrison & Jack Massarik
Schwartzegeist by Sadiq Bey: Live from Berlin: The Sun Ra Tribute Project
Sun Ra: Myth, Magic & Music by Steve Fly Agaric 23
The Mystical Estate / Part 1: Standing in the Shadow of Sun Ra by Dylan Harding / Part 2: Interview with Haf-fa Rool by David Kerekes & Caleb Selah, London, 2002
Sun Ra on Film by John Sinclair & David Kerekes: The Cry of Jazz & Space is the Place
Sun Ra Obituary by John Sinclair: New Orleans Times-Picayune, 1993
Photos & Comics / Part 1: Sonny’s Last Song by Mat Colegate & Dan White / Part 2: Scrapbook
Contributor notes
About this book

Some photographs I snapped of the book:

Steve Fly 33.

Available at CITYLIGHTS bookstores in the U.S

Composer, bandleader, pianist and space philosopher, Sun Ra was a unique individual and one of the most colorful and enduring of musical legacies, transcending time, place and culture. From the mid 1950s until his death in 1993, Sun Ra led The Arkestra , a fluid collective that lived and played together under the despotic tutelage of their leader, who claimed to hail from Saturn. Their music was jazz, but avant garde compositions in which players were instructed to adhere to a space key improvising without regard for conventional tonal centers was symptomatic of an altogether different direction in sound: electronic music, space music and free improvisation.

But Sun Ra's legendary status was earned as much for his eccentricities as for his unique artistic vision. He developed and propagated a mystifying sci-fi mythology which he weaved into both the music and Dadaist performances of The Arkestra (performances which inspired artists as diverse as George Clinton and MC5). This book collects together for the first time interviews with Sun Ra, the people that knew him, and his contemporaries, alongside illuminating essays and conversational pieces regarding his prolific musical output, mystique, philosophy, fans, and much more.

Publisher Headpress
ISBN-10 1900486725
ISBN-13 9781900486729
Publication Date October 2009
List Price $19.95

SUN RA MAYDAY SELECTION DJ FLY by djphly

SunRa Jazz Freejazz Experimental Astroblack

Selected and recorded by dj Phly Agaric 23, May 1st, 2010. Amsterdam. In resonance with the recent launch of the book SUN RA: INTERVIEWS & ESSAYS (HEADPRESS).

Track Listing v1.

TWIN STARS OF THENCE - SUN RA
EVE - SUN RA
WATUSI - SUN RA
ASTRO BLACK - SUN RA
SUNRISE - SUN RA
THERE ARE OTHER WORLDS - SUN RA
ABSTRACT "I" - SUN RA
GREAT BALL OF FIRE - SUN RA
OVERTONES OF CHINA - SUN RA
NASHIRA - SUN RA
IT IS FORBIDDEN - SUN RA
HIROSHIMA - SUN RA
HOURS AFTER - SUN RA

Mix Release date: May 1, 2010.

RAW Joyce Quaternions & Hologlyfly

2010-04-19T01:24:00.010+02:00

Language vs. The Equation?
Language as Class Warfare?

In 1944, Nobel physicist Erwin Schrödinger added the next block to the definition of I2, in a book called What is Life? Schrödinger noted that everything in the universe, except life, follows the Second law of Thermodynamics in moving steadily toward maximum entropy (which for our purposes we can define loosely as chaos or incoherence.) Life, however, moves in the opposite direction: toward higher organization, greater coherence, negative entropy. In the next few years, almost simultaneously, Claude Shannon of Bell Laboratories and Norbert Weiner of M.I.T. realized that the information in a message could be mathematically expressed as negative entropy. --Robert Anton Wilson, Higher Intelligence Increase.

JJ - James Joyce
FW - Finnegans Wake
...- Page Number.
BOLD edit by Steve fly.

holocryptogam,--JJ, FW, 546.

grafficking
with his sinister cyclopes after trigamies and
spirals' wobbles pursuiting their
rovinghamilton selves and godolphing in fairlove to see
around the waste of noland's browne jesus 4
(thur him no quartos!)--JJ, FW, 300.

Part one of RAW's book Coincidance starts with a piece called SYNCHRONICITY AND ISOMORPHISM IN FINNEGANS WAKE. And features an essay: THE PHYSICS OF SYNCHRONICITY (pg. 147), that I believe criss-cross with study of the New Physics and the possible, most probable, I deduct, Holographic Universe model of 'reality' 'consciousness' and 'Synchronicity' as defined by Dr. Wilson, in the language Cybernetics and Neurologic.

dictited to of all his
little brothron and sweestureens the first riddle of the universe:
asking, when is a man not a man?: telling them take their time,
yungfries,--JJ, FW, 170

me there title to where was a hovel not a havel (the first rattle of
his juniverse) with a tingtumtingling and a next, next and next--JJ, FW, 231.

The tasks above are as the flasks below,
saith the emerald canticle of Hermes and all's
loth and pleasestir, are we told, on excellent
inkbottle authority, solarsystemised,
seriolcosmically, in a more and more almightily
expanding universe under one, there is
rhymeless reason to believe, original sun. Securely
judges orb terrestrial. 4 Haud certo ergo.--JJ, FW, 263.

My in risible universe youdly haud find
Sulch oxtrabeeforeness meat soveal behind.
Your feats end enormous, your volumes immense,
(May the Graces I hoped for sing your Ondtship song sense!),
Your genus its worldwide, your spacest sublime!
But, Holy Saltmartin, why can't you beat time? --JJ, FW, 419.

rather let the whole ekumene
universe belong to merry Hal and do whatever his Mary well --JJ, FW, 440.

Bold bet backwords. For the loves of sinfintins! Before the
naked universe. JJ, FW, 624.

From wikipedia: High level summary: HOLOGRAPHIC PRINCIPLE.

The physical universe is widely seen to be composed of "matter" and "energy". In his 2003 article published in Scientific American magazine, Jacob Bekenstein summarized a current trend started by John Archibald Wheeler, which suggests scientists may "regard the physical world as made of information, with energy and matter as incidentals."

Unexpected connection

Bekenstein's topical overview "A Tale of Two Entropies" describes potentially profound implications of Wheeler's trend in part by noting a previously unexpected connection between the world of information theory and classical physics. This connection was first described shortly after the seminal 1948 papers of American applied mathematician Claude E. Shannon introduced today's most widely used measure of information content, now known as Shannon entropy. As an objective measure of the quantity of information, Shannon entropy has been enormously useful, as the design of all modern communications and data storage devices, from cellular phones to modems to hard disk drives and DVDs, all rely on Shannon entropy.

In thermodynamics (the branch of physics dealing with heat), entropy is popularly described as a measure of the "disorder" in a physical system of matter and energy. In 1877 Austrian physicist Ludwig Boltzmann described it more precisely in terms of the number of distinct microscopic states that the particles composing a macroscopic "chunk" of matter could be in while still looking like the same macroscopic "chunk". As an example, for the air in a room, its thermodynamic entropy would equal the logarithm of the count of all the ways that the individual gas molecules could be distributed in the room, and all the ways they could be moving.

Energy, matter, and information equivalence

Shannon's efforts to find a way to quantify the information contained in, for example, an e-mail message, led him unexpectedly to a formula with the same form as Boltzmann's. Bekenstein summarizes that "Thermodynamic entropy and Shannon entropy are conceptually equivalent: the number of arrangements that are counted by Boltzmann entropy reflects the amount of Shannon information one would need to implement any particular arrangement..." of matter and energy. The only salient difference between the thermodynamic entropy of physics and the Shannon's entropy of information is in the units of measure; the former is expressed in units of energy divided by temperature, the latter in essentially dimensionless "bits" of information, and so the difference is merely a matter of convention.

The holographic principle states that the entropy of ordinary mass (not just black holes) is also proportional to surface area and not volume; that volume itself is illusory and the universe is really a hologram which is isomorphic to the information "inscribed" on the surface of its boundary ^[6]. --http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holographic_principle

Please visit http://duszenko.northern.edu/joyce/ For solid background information detailing an introduction to NEW PHYSICS in FINNEGANS WAKE.

And let every crisscouple be so
crosscomplimentary, little eggons, youlk and meelk, in a farbiger
pancosmos. With a hottyhammyum all round. Gudstruce !
Yet is no body present here which was not there before. Only
is order othered. Nought is nulled.--JJ, FW, 613.

part so ptee does duty for the holos we soon grow to use of an
allforabit.--JJ, FW, 19

The great fact emerges
that after that historic date all holographs so far exhumed
initialled by Haromphrey bear the sigla H.C.E.--JJ, FW, 32.

Please continue to...(if you want to get the full works on HOLOGRAPHIC PROSE.
THE CELTIC ROOTS OF QUANTUM THEORY by ROBERT ANTON WILSON.

"Reality, Joyce learned early, does not answer to the "point of view," the monocular vision, the single ascertainable tone. A tone, a voice, is somebody's, a person's, and people are confined to being themesleves, are Evelines, are Croftons, are Stephens. "Some of my methods," Joyce later said, "are trivial; and some are quadrivial." At the very least, on the model of two-eyed men, reality exacted a doubling: in the earlier fictions, a double attitude, which Ulysses divides into a double narrator of whom one member has a repertory of impersonations. -- Hugh Kenner, Beyond Objectivity, Joyce's Voices.

Love, steve fly.

Steve Fly 33.

Shannanigums Wave and Stories VIDEO Search

2010-04-12T21:48:00.002+02:00

AND A STORIES VIDEO FOR CHU.

Steve Fly 33.

LULU Flyagaric 23 STOREFRONT.

2010-04-12T01:05:00.001+02:00

Steve Fly 33.

Some Fun in Shannanigums Wave

2010-03-19T03:41:00.003+01:00

Death pays some debts, but not all.

I think we should allow all drugs at the Olympic Games, for the sake of good sport and fairness and equality, especially in the special Olympics, if a guy has no legs and can race in a wheel chair, or somebody with a neurological chemical imbalance can race doped up to, a fair and equal sporting state of mind?

Sage before beauty

Why do we need identification cards, do you think I'm lying when I say who i am? Surely the people that know me can define who I am, 20 or more, why is it always me and some stranger that get to confront the biggest question in my life, and usually at an airport?

I'll coin a phrase: coinspiracy.

Why do we name towns after rivers today, when nobody uses them, we might consider renaming towns after shopping malls, football teams or Newspapers.

What they're telling us about paranoia, its not true tell you, they're lying to us, I can prove it.

I think that George Bush and Tony Blair combined to make the Millennium bug, we were warned about it but could never think that the bug would take human form and wreak so much havoc.

Why don' they make a gun that can fire currency, killing the enemy with funding.

You hear about the Pilot episode of the new TV series about 911? it got hijacked and turned into a "reality" TV show.

When will the GREEN party take a stance on an end to prohibition and war on some drugs?

I studied schizophrenia and drugs at college and graduated with 5 A's, 5 E's, 2 G, and some K.

I went to a conference called the Prophets conference, I always knew I was going and when I finally arrived the Prophets were expecting me.

Back talk don't.

If UFO's are so smart and advanced why don't they bring food and computers for us all?
Why don't we have democratic voting systems incorporated in our televisions networks so we can VOTE for what we wanna watch, vote for who reads the news, vote for who plays who in the soap operas, vote on what happens next.

What is public television without two way communication?

Bullets are called slugs, but why not call them turds?

Every family has a skeleton in the cupboard, except the Stephala Pods and the O'Mollusks.

Why do we sing God Save the queen, she's got all the best medical treatments and seems to be doing fine.

Is the Difference between a massacre and a serial killer just the lag time between murders.
Reality and Television don’t mix.

Defeat the illuminate... surround them with lamp shades.

Did you know special mushrooms can now breakdown nuclear waste materials, I'm slightly worried about this news, what if they start eating the soil and the leaves and the tree’s and organic waste material?

A scientologist came up to me the other day and said "Are you feeling streesed sir' i went with her, answered some questions and held some stress balls. She didn’t even know who Jack Parsons was, I left only a little less anxious.

I was busking in the subway for a few months, I headlined each night, got paid in hard cash that I could see and hear and the whole show was recorded on CCTV.

In the age of Bush and Blair please take your emergency bomb drills as ‘live’.

If money does not grow on trees why is the pacific lumber company so well off?

Jack of some trades, master of some.

If dolphins are so intelligent why don't they work out how to play chess with the Octopus?

If intelligent dolphins work out a system of human like justice and equality may the killer whale be renamed as a fish slaughterer?

A solution to slave labour - free labour!

I once picked up some magic drum sticks from a shaman in San Francisco, i played my first gig and turned the crowd whole crowd into blue wooden spoons.

I went to a myspace party the other week and met a 4 dead people and an Octopus called God. "
If you think the world is coming to an end, then shut the hell up.

Where does the 'drum" come from in the term Chicken Drum sticks, did these chickens learn paradiddiles or did somebody use the severed legs as drum sticks before they were packaged? I never seen a drumstick with a big fucking clump on the end like that, looks like a Chciken "Club" stick. Bloody drummers thigh.

Did you know that all pussy cats are special agents of the dictator Mao.

You ever notice how people who drive cars always look like the're late for something, do you ever see people walking with such expressions like that?

The phrase used to describe the murder of an entire royal family is Regicide. Why not royal flush!

Bruce Lee mixed Kung Fu and Dancing together, I mix hop scotch and snooker together and call it Hop snootch.

If knowledge is power then why hasn't the internet been elected as president or Prime Minister?
why bother praying when you have a credit card to get what god made?

I was at the airport on the way here tonight and this guy said to me "Did you pack your own bag?" and i said “No I packed somebody elses”

I'm a relapsed vegetarian, I eat what I know really deserves to live.

Systems of hereditary rule lead to us all ruling the cosmos.

Sport Frall'

2010-03-18T03:24:00.002+01:00

Evolve and revolve to solve the Novelle

...conscious butter roll dream cure wayward evolution hum high seed of Healing the ceiling mutter fossilized drams’ clean wiv’ Yeast Lyf crushed up powder and water sport moving sports of decomposition writing while Rowing while writing scores for cherry gold cinema buffball babelfish cryptospores and community floating dispersed psychology outword degree liberty propeller in underground spore brandy art evolves' ballistico yoga cleanse pores butter-up brandy sauce with self-organized natural ‘Mycollegee’ destiny Art to Evolve a spell wave cycle of Liberty thought blowing net transmissions together movements zoospore hiking Love ground to gather silly verse in...

Steve Fly 33.

DREAMSPORE EVOLVER AMSTERDAM.

2010-03-13T02:35:00.003+01:00

"Everyday, precious, while m'm'ry's leaves are falling deeply on my Jungfraud's
Messongebook I will dream telepath posts dulcets on this isinglass stream --James Joyce, Finnegans Wake, page 460.

DREAMSPORE AMSTERDAM.

21st Aprill 2010. Amsterdam 8.00 PM - 10.00PM.

In a loose and adhoc' conjunction with evolver.net, 'Evolver Spore Amsterdam' will be hosting a DREAMSPORE' featuring multimedia presentations (DJ & VJ) plus live poetry, theatre and crafts.

In resonance with the theme of DREAMS' we suggest that, if you like, you can bring your own dreams with you, on paper or just in mind, and maybe something tangible to share, a gift that reflects something from a dream you once had.

"pulse of our slumber, dreambookpage" --James Joyce, Finnegans Wake, page 428

This is by no means compulsory but advised for enhanced value of experience. I think.

Music on the night will be provided by DJ fly and set to include exclusive tracks from Yukari Watanabe's album project 'Dreams'

http://www.yukariflute.com/Site/New_CD_%22Dreams%22.html

Coldcut, Kai Eckhardt, John Sinclair, Doctor Marshmallow Cubicle, Supercity, Garaj Mahal.

A small 'live' improv theatre group will add more dream juice to the well spring and a 'live' reading and open cuss' & disscusion of the 'dream theme spore' content . Open mic' time will be available for any visiting performers and artists to contribute. Please express any special arrangements you may need or a time slot before the 21st of Aprill if possible.

flyagaric23 @ googlemail.com.

"It is, it is Sangannon's dream." --James Joyce, Finnegans Wake, page 297

(more details to be announced)

primary reading material previews:

The Illuminati Papers
By Robert Anton Wilson

Odyssey of the psyche: Jungian patterns in Joyce's Ulysses
By Jean Kimball

Magic Mushrooms in Religion and Alchemy
By Clark Heinrich

Pauli and Jung: the meeting of two great minds
By David Lindorff, David P. Lindorff

The Waking Dream: Unlocking the Symbolic Language of Our Lives
By Ray Grasse

"Indeed, Jung specified that synchronicity could not fit into any purely causal,
billiard-ball theory of the universe." Quantum psychology: how brain software programs you and your world‎ - Page 171

FLY AGARIC 23 NOTEBOOKS 1995-1999 RED 98

2010-02-28T23:33:00.009+01:00

NOTEBOOKS RECOVERED FROM THE UK. PHOTOGRAPHED IN AMSTERDAM FEBRUARY 28 2010.

Steve Fly 33.

FLY AGARIC 23 NOTEBOOKS 1995-1999

2010-02-28T23:24:00.005+01:00

Steve Fly 33.

NOTEBOOKS FROM THE UNDERGROUND: Blue Book 1998

2010-01-23T01:28:00.002+01:00

Steve Fly 33.

WORLD PISS: The spore or the woids

2009-12-31T02:30:00.006+01:00

SHANNANIGUMS WAVE

by Steve "fly Agaric" Pratt

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Paperback, 136 pages

€23.32

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There seems to be no agreement as to what ‘Shannanigums Wave’ is about. Maybe the sham inherent in the transformation of thought waves into speech? The author once claimed that the wave was simply an epic footnote to his new Novel: Our Historys Back, describing a scene where the protagonist DJ Plush from 2012 cuts-up his dream diary using modified turntable tools and produces a compressed prose code.
An old work mate of Steve’s referred to the Wave as “A new Black Country manifesto for the mutation, the Wave captures subtle forces. We have been informed by the author that each of the twenty-three chapters ends with a dream sequence lifted directly from Steven’s dream diaries. Approx 74’000 words, 111 Pages, divi...More >

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Product Details

Publisher	Steven James Pratt & Fly Agaric Studios
Copyright	©2009 Steven James "fly agaric 23" Pratt (Standard Copyright License)
Language	English
Country	United Kingdom
Publication Date	22 December 2009

Lulu Sales Rank	84552

Page Count	136 pages
Size	U.S. Trade
Binding	Coil bound
Interior Color	Black And White

Art n'music and tales.

2009-11-08T14:31:00.002+01:00

Steve Fly 33.

Master-builder (Bobby of Buddhafart) built a beatiful stage, flyer'

2009-08-11T12:30:00.001+02:00

Master-builder (Bobby of Buddhafart) built a beatiful stage, flyer'

http://www.buddhafart.com/

Wired Word World

2009-04-21T14:53:00.005+02:00

http://www.myspace.com/flyagaric23

http://www.maybelogic.org/maybequarterly/

http://flyolympic.blogspot.com/

http://www.myspace.com/flyagaric24

http://acrillic.blogspot.com/

http://twitter.com/FLYAGARIC2019

http://flyagaric2019.blogspot.com/

http://www.maybelogic.net/

flyagaric23@googlemail.com

Greytings everybody. The face of type under review By fly.
What's left to write tonight, read?
What is left to sift and lift?

Disturbance of writing, what is it. Who are you?
Patterm, speech jagged
Rocks here, watch yerself. So do it!
Spezzata in the tongues road.
Self Published, blogged over 4 years.

Swimming in a word of Peace.

Just simple swimming? when can children swim these days?
Forget about indoor pools for a moment now, and children.
What of swimming free in the rivers, lakes, oceans
Everybody and humanity, free swimming

In the urban environment
Hidden hands of urban redevelopment, take away.
And private sector movements destroy bit by bit
We swimmers should not lose sight
Of our future world environment, without the dinosaurs running mad off with our cash

Access to clean water, and a choice to add Flouride or not to add flouride.
Water to drink,
Water to wash with and to Water to
Swim in.

Water full of nutrients and life, a biological swimming facilitiy –
A reproductive and REAL lagoon with fish,
Plants and an living ecosystem.

In varying scale's of magnitude, self published message of word
WORD.
To all the graffical wizards, to all friends, players, imagineers!

Humanity can realise paradise
Ancient models of Chinese, Indian, Greek and Roman
Use of waterways floated great social functions.
I have often composed verse and prose about
Swimming in the canal, or the cut,

In and around the Black Country
And especially in the river Amstour!
in jest at first but now things are serious, WORD!
All mountains, cloud bursts, berries and flora
Shrooms, insects, bacteria and birds
NOW! WORD and new language SING!

What fair and sporting activity of sport, word?
The sportsmanship of playing a fair game, printing press.
A good game, a sporting game

Everything you got, your all in your sporting worship!
Opposed to SPORT the name tag of some minister, a minister of SPORT!
Or as a section of the most unsporting of entities – the tabloid NEWSPAPER,
Or a sports magazine, or T.V station.
What sport? what game? Rule makers and breakers and
Sport SPONSORS! Advert subverts are us!
Get on the bus.

Yes, i like good competition and a good game, word. Play.
The spirit of play lies at the heart of healthy economic
Strategy, philosophy and
Some poetry lie at the bottom of purple waterfalls
Tears running blind
Grapes and meat and all music wind!
Sing a song while doing the activity. Juice'd On It.

Immersive cursive environment,
What language precision Alfred?
The given activity drying up already,
No lagoon, no wetness, no horse no moustache'
Not even a foot bath,
A soggy idea about how to distribute the things
Survival tickets, share abundance

WHO WHO WHO
Make and break the rules for a few of the elite
Authorities in whatever water-world we’re floating in.

Forget about saving the old swimming baths of England,
Start planning your own bath and swimming facility. DIY dude.
Imagine them, a fresh natural water-world paradise,
Imagengine them....
without Kevin Cosner...With YOU!
Draw, sculpt and sew them, show them
Model the environment, animate bigger larger and share your work.

We must paint our utopias and write our dreams and footnotes to the image.
The Art game can capture sports
in a way the news game cannot, i rekon.
The music game captures hearts in a way writing
Dream of.

Together we stir the components up
Cast our knowledge far and wide and show HOW TO.
Cast your visions for a new past present future.
Surprises wrapped around every lampost,
Posted light and posted time awaiting
Express and stirring news, sterling silver
Birch tree me.

Steering sentences into places

A horse-race of letters
Jockey of jabberwockey, keys two the stable.
Balance. Equation and mathematical system.
Measuring courses for Ostriches by the feather
Weight. Heart of solid steel, no, of gold per minute.

A heart of rock-stone?
A heart full of blood and pumps,
A heart of pulses and waltzes wid' riddim'

Heart and head laid down snug.
Head and heart beating, bleeding words that got sentenced.
Tears running blind.
Alphabetty shackled the soul aboard to the jetty,
Waves mirrored in a close shave with sea foam this morning.

Phone home and away i went travelling the telegraph
Looking for clues, sense and love
In monologue, leading to the chapel perilous bog.

Cogs and wheels within’ circles of green red and blue
Bones of past people’s psychedelic particulars
As lentickle - your ears - through lenses of grit
Measured in LIGHT years. Weigh....

No moaning
New colour contour leads the wire forrest
Freakeys out to new worlds, Word write, for pools
Inhabiting spaces and places not faces, so much,

Must write them out, write them way out, off -if possible.
Write them off and turn them on, drop them out
Dial some solid state entity up, boil a cup of broth,
Add dust mite and moth to make mothers brew,
A glossing tossed in pan of pun with butter rake.

Splurge splatter letter after letter after letterout of alphabet land.
Chase the picture and the landscape
CHase them and their actions out out out of reality
Skip the nouns and hijack the verbs.

Big up the verbs of all walkways about them,
The spunky turning ones of no fixed address,
Nomadic tribes folk of letters, littering streets
Fighting BACK with symbol sigil magick

The moving semiotic train,
The moving bus and car, rust, tracks, carriage to carry
The trip trail of a broken language
Migrating letters into sense like peanut butter and jello'
And running words down the cheecks
Ripping context and wind blown full stops to steps ahead.

Null stops going forward to reverse position
Exercise the transition from high view
Twisting word rollings out, DNA RNA spiral ice cream
Lime and strawberry build up of pastry forms
The old glue globlets - more tears
Binding molecules of doe, ray, me so far the tale has sun
Baked itself phrases melted down through the ages

Say CHEESE! gloopy goos of the great
Old ones returning, returning the flavour in each wave.
The life and death march backward,
Be bop lifts language into cypher
JAZZ cypher

Out of ages into history factory production line,
History formed and stamped, shaped and packaged,
In a blistery bucket of swamp gas.

Distributed by time and space agents
Like Burroughs Said
Like clive and tracy, graggy laced Lenny said
Like spaz and rave sang of
You see the surprise on my face.
They stole it, my culture and youth
But these words are ours now, mutated

As i lean down to tie my lace
i get my finger looped in the ribbon of shoe,
My tongue starts talking and before you know it
I'm running out my socks

My tongue got a hold of my soul via my friends help.
And laced up the tale of the toe.
So now, a few minutes of passed and i feel glassed in the head
Amidst the mist of literal twist,
Mint rust and apple pudding - embankment.
Swample flavour

Sweet snowflake, and pattern to distinguish
The individual spelling.
Water language droppings of black specks. WORD!
Back to flows. Big waves and particle fizz.
Foam and lappings.
Trappings of the pre-fix shrimp, the very and the more,
Good, bad and rhetoric. Sea food, waves, salt and tears.

Veins upon the trees shirt
Strike me down dead in the park.
I confess nothing. Self publish
Disturbance and journey to the centre,

To keep moving and styling the phone.
Phonetic E.T’s are home.
What is to come after the transtime event?
Day out of, or day INN TIME?

Before the end of history?
Better go and do a crossword puzzle or something
Avoid the void and bliss the woid,
And balance yourself, on the edge.

What black and white picture show,
Just alphabet whatcha showin'
A full sharp shooter full of hooter polluter

Flat space and spiral earth.
Head and non-head perceptions.
Write off the cuff, and on the bluff side of the loon.
Wrong.

No delete delete. No more wrongs with delete and edit.
Moving feet are dancing again, get up you fucker.
NOW, or just keep on dancing barefoot in the mud
To strike the MOOD for it to trickle rain. Crisp
A wetness of image dryed up, wrinkled old alphabetty.

Formation dispanded by rubbers and ink-delete pens of mass destruction. Not in more than 12 months have i pumped up my staright backtype to attempt a trapeze poem of sleeze on the fly. How high the moon, how low the vault? Light and sound pulses chatter on top of the surface of any lake you like, waves waves and waves again, never folding waves, always fighting the waves and partying with particles, making light of it all. Shed light on it and hope more of - it all - comes to mind. Kisstory. Misty eared. No rap, but feedbacks.

Rap and music. Word-code and air farts seem words apart. Apples turning over adams applecart on linneaus straat. Identifiction and the visscitudes and multiplexy glass looking class-room. Freedom to roam without sentence law. Rhyme and sense for added spice grinders. No fear of the mis-readings of free bleeding of sense data. From a key-build world of distrubance, dance and good solid meal lies, a good soft meal, solid? I sribble for a bad soft meal, a flabby saft salted peanut walk in the park. An orchestral doobie in the dark. No excuse for the digression, my passion awaits trial, selector be my witness, the ground has swollen up like a bumble bee banquet on the balls. Relief from the angles, the ground corners and shaved sides of whats SQUARE. No squares aloud. Still scratching to try and match the hue hatcher of legend untold. In the days of wildfires, child-locks and adult safety checking accounts the accountable are unable to numerically factor the figures in line with the diggers who place daggers in the heart and cripple the face muscles with the squints and turn us into glimpses Mick Jagger. Like a saucepun i can’t handle it.

Spilling mistakes my steaks. Thrilling the gates open with fling-a-ling songs and a scavengers desire for a trash palace of the linguage centres, behind the middle grounds of normalford manner, more junk talk, and with a squark and a gobble, gutteral punk, literal junk talk of coca cola and antagonisms, jimpsun weed and spleen reconstructive drama. Clean slate and dirty jokes chopped like carrots on marble. Table top to bottom drawer there, i saw a paragraph swinging out the margins of blank. A paragraph dressed in camal-flange and chlorinated. Red betwenen the lights, blue between the sheets and green between the teeth. And the doors are open, i was hoping this would come over last summer or before that, with the wine and rose bud days but no. Never till now, till now, the paragraph comes leaping out from beyond the RULE. Drawing the lines and boundaries of space to fill with free fuzz and buzz, flapping and side-strokes, small wriggle movements and darts to all directions, quarkes and get set. Rumble of trumpet cases in the trunk, funk band on the road, setting off, the words setting sail and finding and window of wind-go.

Faster sharps and flats recursive recorso distrubance. Royal disturbance and slippery foot turns on the oil perturbances scattered in these skits and bits of rhyme glue. A large sprawling array of how i say it. Nothing in particular just stretching our vernacular wires and antenna out to reach Dracula and Cinema veritae’

The reel snapped yonks ago so now the verb plays out up in the backside of the groove the verb echos the future spaces and past places of outer-crash wave, bounce. To polish the stones they abolish and throw them like snowmen and their balls through walls of debt brick and steel, through air glass shafts of crippled overtones and harmonic shake ups.

To shake the sky into order and put the starts on the musical stave. Unyour wobbling pivot to measure the class of word-sound honour and the family of whynotwhats and whofortonowwhens - the information that binds the jumble of crumbled noun. Music to unite the crowning glory of story and tale to leave and bright silken routes to follow, pick up, and thread into the inklish boots, laced footwear taken me hostage once agin, on a plane to ubuntu, the words pulling from just aroud a blind corner, the sound of the sentence directs the destiny, but to tackle the rhyme with fix-it substances, and sew up the pristine package for friends and etyms, taking control of roll and reuniting it with rock in a solid foundation. fli-flow go on goo on - blu nose of knowls out your assets. Finger mouse creeping under the cat glove in the kitchen - seems to be pushing the limits of sensible writing and shows the down side to freedom of thought and speech, a child’s TV show and a Ikea oven glove fused. Like a spark plug in the mouth, the lights are tangy tonight.

Crevices and dried up entrances to places only a spider could have known have fell into my scripture, visitors from next door, visitors from across the way, the river side has turned into the water-cider in a drunken tantrum of descriptive lenses. From one side the bath looks opel, from the other coral. The mantra of fish might make for a useful wish in a whales bellyfull of tele-tummy touch table tops. Cable cuts and splices, PING. Crossed wires and fancy foundations of frankly - far and away - flipped fakery.

All word comes to this and that, eventually the fuel fails to follow the road and the journey comes to a hault, not mine or yours or anybosy elses but the felt tip feels full and bloated, the felt tip of my finger on this bastard keys,

Wishing they were LP’s.
Letting the wind-up speak.
Letting the rumble wired srew
Wheels within gyres within disks.

SCRIPT F 2009

2009-04-01T03:07:00.001+02:00

Flie Flu and the red white spotted death

2009-04-01T02:26:00.000+02:00

DELL and the Police are going into business. Lord Carter, CAW CAW CAW Digital Government Business! As Ezra Pound wrote “Who distributes it, how”
Information! D.I.G.I.T.A.L - ambiguous like Claude Shannon, Roni Size and NTL.

Digital ways to extend the reach and accuracy of killingry, weaponry, and disinformation Warfare. Digital Warfare. Urban. All pervasive information warfare. Digital Analogue. Pirates fight like Samauri or Ronin – lone rangers, discordian immortals, drunken, always On. NO more cyberlaws and restrictions and government interference. How can we trust The Government men and women, who have hindered, blocked, slowed down and trickled down Information. Lying, stealing and cheating their way into positions of government, Using and abusing Government status to further private interests, telecommunications Banking, Arms and pharma – all wrapped up in a giant syringe, the ultra junky.gov Power, control and distribution mixed in a toxic cocktail, a red hot Heroin hit in the eyeball.

Fuckin' DELL! Lord! and the Forensic Police and curse you and your total information awareness program. Lordy, Lordy Lordy, would you look at that! What of Lord Carter and the Brunswick Group – EMI, B.P, British Airways and B.T Group? No Shit, he worked for NTL on broadband police work, and even went to Harvard And what of OFCOM and what of NTL? Why would the people of Great Britain, Or anywhere take any of the Digital Britain report seriously, just glancing at Lord Carter’s file? Have we just witnessed an attempted U.S style telecommunications coo by the info-Tzar?

The RIAA, the British Government and DELL are all making threats to the consumer. And the sick sound of suited monkeys talking about Digital Knowledge and Culture. The Tzarist Occupation government is passing judgement on video games and Cannabis The Government that sent the entire British culture and economy into illegal war Bowing to the commands from Washington, and wasting Trillions of public Pounds wants Us to take them seriously when proposing we trust them to distribute our digital information What Government Tzar? Of what secret order, what rank, can ordain the mighty information? EVERYTHING can be thought of as information, and information permeates everything everyware. All this talk of pirates and nobody mentions the great Pirates, as Buckminster Fuller calls them, The sea-faring, robber-barrons of industry and technology who stole our collective cultural Inheritance and sold it to the highest bidder – Sony, General Motors, Universal-Vivendi, Monsanto, J.P Morgan, NTL, and on and on, just read the paper, see the stocks and bonds – the great LOOT! Ministry of Information.

As Minister for Communications, Technology and Broadcasting in the U.K Government Lord Carter Might have read Finnegans Wake by James Joyce, easily the greatest broadband network poem. Or maybe not, maybe he reads white papers on current DARPA research, police forensics etc. I speculate that he does, and this worries me, as a consumer and artists and as a poet i must sing.

email from BOB

2009-03-13T04:54:00.000+01:00

Date: Tue, 8 Jan 2002, 11:10:54-0800.

fly: I recently saw you perform at the learning Annex in San Francisco, Great show, i had fun. You mentioned that you would consider doing an interview by e.mail, so here's a few questions i propose for you:

Have you played Buckminster Fuller's world game
lately?

-Yes. I consider it the greatest teaching tool
since the alphabet.

Could you explain a little bit about your holographic
prose?

-No. I'm struggling to write a whole book about
that right now and can't imagine how to
condense it. Besides, it's the hardest
part of my work to translate...
I'll give you two related samples from the Illuminatus
and see what you
can make of them: "They shall come to gno gods."
"They shall come to gnu godz."

When was the last time you did yoga?

-This morning, 6 a.m.

What similarities do you see between Christian and
Islamic fundamentalist government?

-They both seem obsessed with anxiety at the
thought that somebody somewhere might be having a good
time. They both
have a lack of tolerance similar to CSICOP.

Where was the last place you happened to notice Ishtar
Rising?

-On the bookshelf with my other books.

Who's your favourite female superhero?

-Special agent Clarice Starling.

Is Timothy Leary dead?

-No more so than Einstein or Beethoven.

What does Anthony Hopkins and the date 23rd December
2001 have in
common?

-That's starling's 36th birthday.
Are the Farben works still entact?

-They are not only endure, they prevail.
Who are some of your favourite other Guerrilla
Ontologists?

-Andre breton, William Burroughs, George Herriman.
Can you give a list of items for our emergency
survival suitcase please?

-Cannabis seeds, Finnegans Wake, one
rotweiler.

Thankyou, and best of luck with the new book T.S.O.G!
DJ Fly Agaric 23.

SWAVE OUR PEE PEE POOLS

2009-02-10T03:11:00.000+01:00

Inklish ar’ wydely considered fust mod’
Society to mek swimmin’ into a proper sport.
Fli bin’ trested in swimmink since i was a seven year old nippa’

Swimmers tidal flow

floodley Afloat, comfy coze-

ley, Lost Brierley Hill?

2008 – Coseley Bath Earmarked for closure due to dodgy roof’
April 1, 1974: The con. Mosh up a' former cownty borough of
Dude-ley, wiv the William Seward Burroughs inner-zone of Alesowin’
And flouridge.

2009: late summer...2000 people join facebook group demanding
Coseley Baths stay open for the local community.
1837: Fust paddlin comps held in London's spashing pools.

Coseley, Brierley Hill

Stourbridge pulling with

A tide olde Dudley leisure hand craft.

July of 1967: Doodley con. ban folks from swimming in Lodge Farm Rezza’
Because paddlers wuz’ obstruction to boats’
Councillor Les Jones said
Protestors needed to be realistic in June 2009:
“We have made a clear commitment
To closing the baths on safety grounds,”
“We believe our structural engineer’s report stands up
– we don’t use ‘fly by nights’.

Swimmers tidal flow

floodley Afloat, comfy coze-

ley, Lost Brierley Hill?

1987: Teaurbridge Swimmin’ Club wuss demolishevelled by Mudley Clownsil
Cuz it was riffy, structurally unsafe, and beyonda fixin’ up. and them went an’ replaced it wida leisure pond fur the fancy pant 1990's Leisure con. and disinvestment industry Very noyse, but unsuitable fur competitive swimumin’ me thinks. 7th January, 1869: furst meating of Amateur Slimming
Association.

Stourbridge Swim Club fought

Dudley MBC 86’

Crystal clear lies splash.

4th June, 1901: Sturbridge Swimming Club founded as
31st 2005: Untied kingdome gives o'er
Her presidency of the Con. Of the Europeeing Youngyin.
2nd August, 1900: Foundry stone of Stourbridge Public Baths wuss laid by Isaac Nash.
Bath water come from a well cut in local sandstown.
Annual subscription fix'd at fiyv shillyns
Juss 25 pence, a bargain for a 12 yerolt kid
Werkin 60 hours a week for 2.d down a death mine.

T.V’s got talons

Dragons den factor on ice

Big Brother News storms.

1939-1945: Stourbridge baths closed fur public due to word war II.
17th May 1923: Open air swimming bath built at Stourbridge
June 2009: Victoria Baths – Portsmouth is closed, against local wishes.

Newspeak Bubbles up

Bottom feeders speak fish quack

Money Repair Cash?

3:30, 31st December 2005, Brierley ill Lye-sure Centre
Closed due to DudMetBo’ Council decision.
72 con.cillors, representing 24 wards
Both an election boundary and
A division, the pool could not be saved, damn it.

Lies yellow chlorine

Drifting from council meetings

Erode roof of mouth.

1894: Brierley Hill comes an urb.an di.strict
Under the yocal yobernment Akt ov 1894.
2006: There are 23 olympic sized cuts in the YUK. England 15,
Scotland 4, Ireland 2 and Wales 1.
1 iz under con.struction in Coseley? Brierley Hill?
Poiklitics seems lyk a pools lottery in 2006x

Steal my fayce, my book

Backcountry Blurds flew afar

Tree dustin’ Indus.

An Oilympic Pool is 25m wyd, you hear!
Depth ov 2.0m minymum
50m in length, while the 25m width
Allows for 8 laynes, each 2.5m whyd
With an extra 2 spaces of 2.5m wyd outside oss rowds 1 and 8.
2.5 x 8 tracks = 20m + (2.5m x 2) = 25m in total.

Olympic Business

Swim sport win deal and no deal

Community splash?

1896 and 1906, women could'nt participate in
Oilympic games due to Baron Pierre de Coubertin holding firm to the conservative
Dogma of the Victoryian eara, that women wuz too Frail to engage in competitive sports. June 2009: Sherwood Baths in Mansfield Woodhouse undergoes a £5m refit
And is renamed the Rebecca Adlington Swimming Centre, Becky meets
The Queen for her OBE for services to swimming.

The noose that ties hands

Maybe loosened by an

Independent thought

Conlablibortive Burroughs talktics:
Slaving urban language Sub-contracts with precise
Gaffers waffle. June 2009: Campaign to save the historic Tyneside pool, NEWCASTLE
Kicks into action.
1960: British boyernment's Beeching Axe hijacks
The costs ov running the British tram system by pullin'
The plug, on what them considered to be unprofitable riffy’ trams.

Dry Conservative

Sap head labour straw warfare

Drowning street can’t swim

Ow ya transfurring propertea
From public ownership to private merchant ownerships?
And/or, both/and... transfiguring the monagemint
Of a service or activitea from an arf soaked gaffernment...
To the private pocket secta
Who issues it, ow?
Rekkids are set crooked
With some Doodley Burroughs aksensi

“Council bosses say their hands are tied by a structural report.”

1917: S.F.C Motto crafted upon the S. Coat of donnies.
Bridge and 2 gold'n froots,
Gold Fleace suspunded by black Chains of Skin
And Leather Dressing LTD.
Chayn Cable Industries, and pooer hung lamb like a man.
'One heart, One way’? why', singleness of mind and
Purpose? To steer, shepard, pilot, escort, to be cyber-swimmer-pilot
1 pool, 3 million folks. No wey serviam.

Cash Till sound Shopping

Echo’s back to mine shafting past

Merry Labyrinth

March 1990: After many swummers protest throughout Thatcher’s layt 1980's
With signs and LOUD chanting
The grystal Leisure Centre wuz born, twice
Unpon historic baths holy grave
It reopened wit’ gravy machine,
, Bond eye beat and
A Non-competitive swimming pond
No deeper than the big puddle down the bonk by me mum’s house.

Roman rowd’s to shops

Greek tragic comedy

Britain Trydon’t sp’ end.

Will a swimmer be free'd from yampy chains ov capitalist slaverewind
When they docked away our baths for them's private
Pools, private betting and private gaming crackers
Save ALL the baths you have

Mark “Britomartis Triton Leucothoea Posedawone” spits. MPHDJ
[WORLD CLASS START QUALIFIER]

WORLD PISS POWERED BY PROSE TOOLS.

2008-10-02T15:04:00.000+02:00

Editing a BAROKE collection of wrots drawn up togather.

"The most effective pre-computer rendition of quantum-digital art was to be found in a certain low-life high-tech style of spontaneous, cool, subjective, improvisational sound waves produced by a small group of black audio engineers. Jazz suddenly popped up at the height of the industrial age, eroding its linear values and noninteractive styles. -- Dr. Timoth Leary.

Lps. The keys to. Given! A way a lone a last a loved a long the - James Joyce, Finnegans Wake.”

“Cleopatra wrote of currency,
Versus who scatter old records
ignoring the HSIEN form
and jump to the winning side.–Ezra Pound, Canto LXXXV.

Towords an MPHDJ method.

Prose turntables and mixer of Correspundance. A Knu Tribal Encyklopedial of changes, odes, rights and histories for time-space playback. New Tools to interlock with the Beastly Rhythm; the rhythm cutting time into space. Cutting into the vinyl discs of history from the great hall of records. An MPHDJ Telling the tale of the tribe fable with magical tools and a turn-tribe-table. I am for balance. Stereo. To be stable.

Sun and moon discs in motion to the patterns of petals and stars, branches and trees all spinning at various pace, the stylus finding the precise times-place. Backandfourth push and pulling forces. The Tao of PLUSH. The Sun appears to be spinning and shining all the spacetime. Night on earth seems just a pitch-shifting shadow. I am shining and spinning all the timespace so I guess that Death is just a pitch-shifting shadow too.

Knock yourself up proper on the head. Tap Tap Tap. Make one full 360 degree turn either to the right or to the left. Run your ring-finger, middle and index fingers past your thumb like when your crab scratching at the cross-fader, for that triplet effect, and then say the words “On turntables as it is in Heaven. On Vinyl as it is on Earth. Turning forever and ever. Oar-men.” Now sit down. Relax. Revolutionize your thinking.

To help formulate a question or meditation i usually drop coins from my mouth onto each turntable platter thrice, casting an I-Ching Hexagram reading for that particular moment in space-time. 3 coins (1 Euro, 1 Pound, 25 cents) dropped six times. Following the King Wen Sequence of the traditional I-Ching divination process i proceed, along with 64 words of genetic code and coincidance in my mind indestructible.

MPHDJ Initiate of the greater mysteries communicating forces with frantic hand gestures and pagan poetry and some sensibility to form MPHDJ weapuns of task construction. Prose Tools. Forming a new hocus stereo focus between the expanding psyche (blue shift) and the expanding universe (red shift). I am for balance, peace and communication.

DRUMSTICK WAND of FIRE. SOUTHERN EYE-LASH BRUSH FOR SIGHT-SEEING. FUN 0’GRAPH RECORDISC of EARTH. FINGER TOUCHING AND SCRATCHING SYMBOLS IN A NORTHERN DIRECTION. DRUMUG of WATER. THE TASTING TONGUE LICKS THE MIRROR MOVING WEST. STYLUS SWORD of AIR. SMELL THE EASTERN WIND WITH A STYLUS NOSE TIP. TURNTABLE of SPIRIT. EVERYWARE INVISIBLE. BLUE-TOOTH WEATHER COMING FROM ALL QUARTERS. OMNIDIRECTIONAL

Disc Jockeys united. Awake and now standing up erect as styli. DJ Geomancy in the air with fingers and minds tracer. Chanting to all regalia. Scratch and juggle shapes and patterns from the turntable platter to the air-space-time and vice-versa. Write a pentagram within a circle. Now try a unicursal hexagram. Who are you and where do your thoughts go when you think of them? Your author discovered today for example that he (IS) in some sense a half-Irish, half-Englishman residing in Amsterdam in the process of developing MPHDJ disc/seal/calendars and a mixer for a lecture on the tale of the tribe.

Rotate your imaginary air-canvas on its horizontal axis and continue invoking and banishing forces, with statesmanship and compassion. Do what thou will. You can charge up the discs while they are spinning on the turntable platter. You can sing your lungs out to the planets and stars, saying magical motto. Pull funny and absurd faces while looking down at the revolutionary disc/seal/calendar/sigil. The disc may have a reflective surface. Imagine a bright flame between you and the disc. Ask yourself who you are and where are your thoughts going today? fly agaric 23, maybelogic.

Prose Tools bound in red, yellow, blue and green silk threads, proof that i know what i am stewing. I resort to the language of symbols in these times of TSOG and their wars. Make peace on walls with LING, a great new sensibility. Peace comes of communication. Rotation and the changes bring on the new ages. After all else has gone, i am that which remains.

Planetary forces will be invoked and banished daily by new turntable operators worldwide. Hands off wireless blue-toothing everyware? crossed-wires, crossed paths. I saw the head DJ’s that ever battle against one another, so that all their thought is a confusion. DJ’s working together to balance the forces. More than symbolic games, turntable healing. Thou has appeared to m huge and allmazifull, the Lord of Time, bearing a sharp stylus sickle atop the heavenly wheels wearing flaming armour, with sword and shield-discs, drums and brushes, triumphantly crowned with the ROTA table. But i was not deceived by these, i cast them all aside and said “begone”.

Thou transformed ABRAHADABRA INTO AMANTAMCARA to unify the microcosmic five and the macrocosmic six with Amanita Muscaria. But even this mighty mushroom deceived me knot. Let those tools be prose Tools. Tables to Tables to cables and back to back to the mixer. On Vinyl as it is on Earth. Turning forever and ever. Oar-men.

Oh Oh oh my Gud! Unity is fly Buginning! Unity is fly Spirit, and fly Purmutation Unity! let me un-veil my fly acrillic gloss.

–Fly Agaric 23
MPHDJ. “fly’.
(FROM MAYBE QUARTERLY. THE PAPERBACK EDITION. 2008)

COPYLIFT TO XXI Edition.

2008-07-19T04:47:00.000+02:00

--$₮€∨€₪ √∆₥€$ ℗®∧₮₮.

Copeeleft Fly Agaric 23. All Rights Re-served. No part of this book, in part or whole, may be reproduced, transmitted, or utilized, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage retrieval system, without permission in writing from the the Author, except for brief quotations in critical articles, books and reviews. Fnord. contact: flyagaric23@googlemail.com.

WORLD PISS. CHAPTER 1. Worlds Past: The Blurry of the Verbs.

2008-07-19T03:25:00.000+02:00

Swimming
Δp❍ll❍
Ri√Ξr
Amrita
M❍❍n
AppLΞs
Turntable
BriDGΞ
DΩlphin
ManurΞ
Aries
Cup Drum
Thoth
Sun
Paras❍l
Birch
Micr❍ph❍nΞ
CymBaLs
ZΞus
Discs
Brushes
FliΞs
Stylus
ThΞirium
T❍aD
Macintosh
Shopping Trolly
Fly Agaric
G❍LD
Sil√Ξr

Book I.
Chapter I.

"A change in language can transform our apprehension of the cosmos" -- Benjamin Lee Whorf

For Tea! EveVital. Adamending time. A silver and Gold bank heist. Libra scales to re-even the Universe. Two eyes to stabilize the tail blaze mazing grass shoots to Everest her shelfllyness. “Ninebinding fire. And this and that for the code. (break) Talevenom. Snake or a toadshake?” Rosé word juice. RISING RUST. Three times three cups of coolfinnale. Indian salt-rock and solid ground pepperol bound with cable-twine. Norrate my tit fur tattle tale chase across dale space and mountain, the general heart (whats going on) from old start to New Yurkinverse finnish and then around the pivotal middle part of the ride agrain.

Seriolcomically graytinge the audience (oh to have got this far) in a more and less almaziful exsponged universe, all under one merry woof. Cooking up rhymeless potato bits in their skins. Eat and fill you belieaf system with a ftpall tale. Some original sun of one original star. Recalli everyway of grain in infinite bamboo.

Cleanse tables with tumble minners. Plough stars, fields, grooves, canals, rivers, paths with a new stylus. Change your mind, change your stylus. Place the fonodisk on the turmtable mat sigil. Press power switch button provided at rear panel to the "ON" position. Remove any styli' protector. Push the start/stop button, (harder) the platter will start to revolve like the solar system. (Turntable). Move the tone-army to a good striking position over the record-disc. Put it down, put it DAWN on disc sigil. Playback of your recording will begin. Settle the speed to 33 1/3rpm or 45rpm with the "S"peed selection switch

To enable different interpretations of the disk. Move tone-arm to the armrest, take a break, when play has finished. Take a break. Push the start/stop button again and platter will stop/start. Like mind woot remains eternal process. Turn off the power. What remains? power. Now, Start again, now going down to your crossreads with old spirits like Robert Johnson. Revolving phonograph records from the lost legendary tomb of Osirius Irises. So hire us. A sea of Irises. Eye lid of the tomb open. Some late lost recording sessions last heard by human ears in 1963 to turn eons over night. Nine seal/calendars glisten, KNU dawn. Neinsten. Elvintwelve. This poem intended to be set out on the concentric revolving wheels of steel. Rawitherio.

And now the Eighteenth edition. July folly. 8/8/8 marks the bugining of a KNU woid Weasty beast. East West = Weast so rise like young bread loaves or a cock. Serve up my piece in seasoned sensimi buns, plenty advacado for the greening. Yin the begreening was the herb and the herb was grown fresh. Dang! Little Ms. Higgs and her Mayo-theory sucks it good. She's good to go down with me. Loosen' up her gob so she can hold down the cutting space job. Yo, sis what "iS" the prognosis? isness maybe an illness said ISIS. Cannabis Metempsychosis a Knu cure for the clap? The doc' said to me on thursday it might be Psychoneurosis So i went hΩme and read Pythagorus and smoked supergrass. Maybe psychobiology or neuro-psycho comedy? Cannabis Psychosis, Me or the plant that maybe the mystory? I am that which remains. You maybe what you don't shit. Thinking and feeling may not be divided so simply man, Mankind and nature, mind and matter all bleed into each other n' ceed one another. Mind and matter attractor one another. Diamond tipped Stylus, arcing. Snatching the Moon with the hand. Scratching the Sunfinger. Kite Messajair. Pass the Pea soup buddy, wash your hands after taking the piss, hide your them crying eyes. Surf the wake now, catch it, again, hatchit out here (Scratch routine) Spun backwords and 4words. All quartermans. Following a calendar craft to Naxos. Where love sets the S☀n

Open mouth drummers and jugglers Spin fluffy heart and sound head gonga puja., Four footed drummers. Sticky Poster bed of dreams. The skystarscape of Joy's barrel. Bound to happen like a bank krash. To Bond like crime families. Flemming and Donovan sickness. Become the psybercriminister of your new KULTURE. make friends of flesh, blood and strong backbone.

Turn word into gas. Our men alchemicalander OH! men. No less. A lisp. Where have your thoughts gone today? where has the pontiff of gone? Measure the shine of Sun and the Moon? What you got in the bank saved up? Tidal waves and Calendar reform. Reformation. Solar star burst blazing bird, burning paradise, ablaze. Now wet. Myceiling running of with the gloss. Creamy woolen gloss, grown in sheep shit.✐

Coordinates ↵ Berlin 1936. Rapallo. New York. Meeting in Hong Kong in June 16th 2009. GΩDiturΒΞR coordinates ➚ to equal 9.9.99.9:09. Testing testing. 8/8/8 missed. 9/9/9 dialled. Body of an idea Tattooed with pimples pointing ↕ to veins joining achilles historical bones and muscles together to make a new man, to make a new body of work whole. You'll see the novel. All history pressed together on a 78' in 09. Slowed down and spun backwords into the web. AMANTA MCARA. 5 & 6. THEN THE 384 words. Then 150 NOW images. Then the 250 NOW RADICALS. Swords sharp with style carefully concealed on a tortoise shell. These rhymes smell of corpsemanure. Calendar eclipse every hour, as you blink. Banks sign blanks. Birth of life and death every hour mind sours itself aweighting the tang. Minute, second-line beat. Of the street. Taste sweet to taste stour, now and then i still do. Start and Stopang . Always on. Needle drop like plough shares of the groove crops. Style drops , sweet like honeysuckle rose lozenge, honey of August 11th 1999, me upon St.

Michael's Mount with a drum head full of Clee'. Ken Kessey in Great Britain on eternal yellow bus trip over the cliff yops. 1999 culture blossoms on the trees of technology. Minidisc. Records of art and music. Getting high and making fun. The Rise of electromedia culture, rave festivals. Millennium on the horizon. I felt the tingle of a new day. 1999 culture blooming everywhere. The worlds poets stir. A Calendar shift. And a political shaft. A paradigm spift. Y2K bugs and lies. Government marketing on the new Y2K market. turned Y2K bug could be the Bush family. An unjust king is like a river without water.

Yew mite Fly before you have wings. Flea before you get nits. Tie a knot in Browns shoelice. Here Comes Everytea. Hold on while i atrickllout the emrgency vitaminute exit. SΩme hot, some not so velvety, not so heavy on the gravy tea, you feel the difference? recipe was passed around in an old middle English art museum like a Chinese whisper bar. Better watch yer time piece goin' in. (Geoglyfly-Tunes play loud) Garaj Banned! No parking in the Garaj. Hyperedited diarrhea on Fli-tunes. Shut down. Fli-book. Shot dawn. Past/present/not sure. Torture TV.

Vinylcyclic records totally recalled around. Disc world novel on progrist to the grindscore. Reversed imagineering, turning of the tongue screw driver. Combine and harvest her. ➚ Termtablists↑ Matching rotation, balance. Starting from scratching a surface tension, juggling with a talking and sound writing machine shinny. Radio-phonograph to make harmony of my ideograh feet tea. hehe. combo? nearly got it...Big idea, a jumbo Olympic novel of a tribe.

Adjustment of Horizontal Zero Balance critical. Innovative hi-Disk jockey on one hand, Marijuana psychosister blissjunky on the other. And a hidden hand. Locked up by jawtrap to a wordwyde web of intrigue. Breaking free from the industrial military market €co₦o₥y. Free as a fish. Signing off. splish splash, SJP Logged OUT the bloggs. You log out too. And Uprise update. Relevution. Publish and Surprise = informansion. Up like gas. A good haze, fungraphs retranslate inpot 21/12/6012 into flux'd up GUCT fields: Great Untied ConspiracyTextyle. Everythink. Only a mad-man is absolutely sure. Textstyle stolen from dog and cat pitter patterns. Up the Spirit. Rain. The moisture charge. Up! Living and dead. Get up with it! Here.

Calculations for a calendar pressed onto hemp-vinyl records 423. 9/9/99 g.o.d.i.s.t.u.r.b.e.r birthed a funny kind of spicetyme Bridge and croxxed over into software everyware. Skysoft Machine outyerface. The Nine's crossed over what? A ∜ine-hole to the Year Zero Zeroine. Aha...She in the cheese moon pulling it all in like a blog hole into history History! Misty memoirs sandwhiched. That bloody great dictionary of fundamental materialist facts incidentally recorded, now remixed on Mac's✎.

Everything and nothing swim everyware now, now in a Web deW 3D spice world. And then in 1936. And now 2019. So, lets' milk it a bit, suck on the tit with the spirit of capitalisimo (spits over shoulder). Massage the udder of all holy cows. Everything vanished. Cityscape varnished. Can you sell emptyness and space? SKYsoft hardball. Bank krash and rush to war. Ephemeral beings of deconstruction are eating reality. Butter not all of it, some. Phew, allmen. No authority can contain the froth coming all over, fluffy poodle furr and some bristles, pink nozzle cap to paint your puzzle black and write whats left. Stuck. When we have the interΩet we want, we will have no internet at all, Terence Mckenna once said.

First dei of the last Gnu Calendar becomes the fist newen day of a slashing re:∜olution. YOUR re∛olution. Guitars, Guns and Mcdope tales. The Daytoday everyday anyway everywhy. Now and Zenarch¥. Come find yourself in Real muntea-leaves left on the bottom of the China cup. Wordsmanship Sail it don't sell it. Free freestyle. Unleash the hounds. Pastaphysical' dazetyme. Versespice brewing in Escher's gra∛Υ-tea-pot. Putting the sky and her soft thigh's in the brew, a tricky task t get it all in the flask. The brew maybe, after all just the BREW.

A good high is from brews that stay brews. Taste cuts through the mask to the tang of the tribe. Lungterm calendoor open. Goods and gods exchanged at the market and men living and dead pass between media hosts. Para-webasites. Hosting media in their wallet made from houndog hide. Here have it. Ξver changing. Free energy, energy from the ❂cean movements! I imagine I'm on a raft smoking Chronic see-weed for survival of the seediest sentences. Web deW. √otion i-deep heat gets into your joints.

Winter windtaos glossed with writers frost. Writers block of ice melted and full of arctic Krillic. Ice flakes flaking like flaky pastry from grandmothers pencil in the moldy basemint lozenge. Madkind she was, and hir' Grit untied connexxtion with sΩme helper plants and industrious animal ancient waste management was exemplary.

Ruby cheery and technicolor pips in the cediment to revitalize Government. The Hempire writes back. New smoke. New vapor. Telepathick internet and the midwife rapping to get high. Misty models and Modus MBC development metaphors, so vape me on v'ape and rise! Poo word ΞntheΩ-genick of Cussa"out the bottle" Knit-Language Knot-slangwage servers & servers. Interknit. Outerknot. Jewels hidden in the Grind Oriented Jungle, hydin' Hedgerows and weary ways along powerful cafe' mocha swirl Bayou'. Rowan Berries and red breasted birds meet in Burgundy. Cats in Eve's garden fight for ginger snaps.

Ape's gobbling fermented fruits in their ape suits, Flies ice skate upon the fungus and continue rehabilitating the shitty environment of this page. Engage the age of critical political outrage. Revolved and evolved to resolve and remold such untold cold crap. Unfold this rap and Speakers erupt explosively, chaotically, symmetricalifornia dreaming. (THCeiling running) Sing, shout, dance boom, write through the dark Knight of the hole, breath Words with wings & fly thousands of miles.

I Cultivate plenty of fragrant dreampot & plant Δ galaxy of ..... with linguisticum & sweet grass on the puckered lips of a cliff ridge. HΩmegrwn. Wild Δstral winds carry spores of Δngelica The Magic plants grow tall with luxuriant stalks and sleeves. The author can reap these interacting media for psychological Medicinal and Mythological study when they come up. Fli laments when they go degenerate like withering Glovernment$ that criminalize Gods ancient Λmbrosias. Dressed in a suit Made up of fire-water magic barks buds and shrΩΩms. These misunderstandings do not phase me so long as i remain lofty and honest. Dropping on a high official hat i adorn myself with ornaments Crystal Snakes Feathered Eagles Jeweled Toads Pink Dolphins Fruit flies Red Ants Black Panthers.

i lament when my fragrant fragments get mangled with the filthy Aristotelian News pre$$. My moral characters are never harmed and corrupted. New Woid born perfect and pure. GraffItI Bastards from Artemisia Mountain, you'll see, at peach dawn flying. I Arrive at Machu Picchu around blue dusk grapes. i enjoy a full $top. Facing engraved gates of an immortals' Temple--the sun set-tango--i order Ronin' the chauffeur of the sun of sΩme good or another to levitate his holy lawnmower, so avoiding the Machu Picchu Mountain Where the son comes in and sets like honey along the long winding and Far-far reaching mellow brick toad-path, up up to ◗ha❍sm❍s' and down to botanical terra i will seek Hallµcinations↵

Ad finitum. Irises Osiriuses. Coming out from the United Snakes a market system that rewards those who wield the most power. Mostly white and mostly male market power. Bull market shitters. Some make it to other lands, Some don't. But around the turning of the 21st century in the kindred spirit of participatary self-management these calloused fingers press down on the pen in my hand. Ad Astra A Priori. To swim with the stars and what came before them. I am the O.O.O.ZE that remains.

A Monk with a Bird on a Trane for Miles daydreams...Blue thunder thumbs hammertime at the half notes, Weeping willow greyellow looking pretty Wes Montgomery. Art Blakey's drums of experience, Stix glossinging to animal skinheads. Like a Taoist typesetter Thelonious fingers do the talking. Hornet Coltrane Ellington. Fitzgerald Pharaoh, the New jazz era. Annali√ia Elvin Jones. Afro-Jazz machine setter. Smiling physicist. Growl Unifried C'onspiracy Theory of music. Hall of Records. Irise Osirises. A Unifried sound-field theory device, a recipe, or sheets of sound? John Coltrane the sub-atomic physicist. GUCT Professor. Alice Coltrane - timetraveling. Mother Harpist, Mythological scholar goddess. Kept Reel McCoy - Ravi Pharaoh Moffet Harland - theology goods. inside the wheels of funk - Sissy strutin spun Clockwork - Meters reformation. ESP direct sustained Magus. Miles ahead. Above, and beyonder. Maybe thats what you wanted? Potting string theory quilted with great united "Jolly Grant Green Fields of Golden fibers. Charlie Bird, Donald Byrd. Playing babyskyblue spells, Birds flew far. Wind and the stars. Eris D. messaging semtext through Thymine, add nine to Fli-sightozine, glossed flash-magazine, clips, amino Aceed in the out-House. Her, her seemingly her. Hot, spicy. HOT. i run to the loo to vindicate my Manhattan with Projectile vomit. New Principles of Pist modem' ☏ kulture, always "on". The floor sleeping. Suspended from a Newyorkshire washing line, drying in the wind with my aunties blΩΩmers my Dad's sock draws and my Mothers shoe rack, and my Sisters summer collection and the baby skyest blue boy clothes. Notooth animations. To combat .Gov profiling for their hypermarket world ✠rder requirements. Myjams as a guide for reconfiguring realtea with gravy tea. United brewing. Cook. Garden home to 7 billion l❁ve critters. Stirred up with a quest for cream to cover Oatybix.

thoughts disappear into spice's shorts. Spice sprinkled onto half an apple. Me, myspice and Fli-pod? Wires to my ears computer entangled like kites mangled in a sughurricane. RnAngel messenger on the wind. Ribbon Zoe. Knotted panties. Moisture, curvature of a saddle. Me mind spiraling criss crossed from my hip to my head. I ate a jovial turntable companion with a good memoria.

"For all their faults. I am passing out. O bitter ending!" - James Joyce.

Puns n' Mcdope. Salt rush to the river, no, reverse that. Two revoluti❁ns spinknittin' upon deux Term-tea-bell pla☤☤ers. Duality-duality man. Two wet tongues to take shortcuts. Mouth cavity, eye, wing. a termhole opens to another world-word. Clicking and whistlung Synchronosly like Flipper “in-phase” with one another. Termteabells rung, sung our Knu worlda sang. A sweaty stink-footnote to the Porpoise corpus. Spinning dubble. 32 copies of noodle soup-string theory sealed into vinyl records. 64 sides. Or 39 records to have 78 sides, maybe playing a 78 RPM. Stacked and nestled together like C.D's. Phonographic Motherplatters: old technotronic green dinner plate spinning and serving up bite sized revolutions. Mensa Prima. Maybe-vinyl maybe no longer viable as a medium of the TT tribe on purely environmental grounds. Vinyl records made from oil grinds. And blood in the compound. Final scratch please be my bitch. A plastic culture or a siliconture? Spinning my mind to Hemp vinyl solutions down the river, records Molded on Cusp. Pressed on the Bough. Signed sealed delivered. its Jawz in 3₫. Edible records maybe next. Smelly records. See scratch and sniff. Nutritious compounds that hold permutations of words into mumbers and vibrations and 1’s and Zer❂s. A back-machine-back time. Knowwhat i mean-time. Organism-as-whole turns books/albums into ingredients mixing toolz to Cruz like time bandits; bound in hemp fiber and vinyl and tree beard trimmings, phoenix rising through acrilacyclic innovations. illustrated by beatboxers and scatters, rappers, hornspeople, turntablasts, and psychotic canal bus folks. From beneath the Lodged stone in the old creek a water-bugs mitten has reached into the sun light. Unwrappin its neurological harpoons. Reaching other suns, planets, cΩmets and moons. Lampooning hooks fishing for ole illuminatea cooking books on the shelf next to the tea. i have 123 text files open and A'Dam"s weed eve'ryware. HΞRΞ CΩmes ΞvΞrybody in their metempsychosis. A last surge against fundamentalist materialism. in defense of dream. The Utopia Psychosis. The experience and realization of ϕur desires. In a silent way Miles runs down the voodoo.

Who talks a lot at the turntable will leave it hungry. Eat Agarik, its some kind of fungus from the Latin agaricum, from Greek agarikon. This maybe my Agarik❂nspiracy file. Sweet Flock whore. Dramatic fanatic idiotic robotic word machine comes clean. Whistle Pissing Sonata. Stoned melodramatic agaric. All that is, is metaphor. Acrillic figa it out yo! Axi❂matoxic in high does. Aromatic agaric but toxic. Turntable static tingle taste of Agaric. Wholly Cha❁! Cinematic stinking Fungus, fun gloss agaric antibiotic, auntie bionic, old tea, drink and be merry agaric, speaking semi-automatic and almost hypnotic toxic, toxicating, intoxicating, symbiotic intoxicating king of beers, and sewers. Turning to Howords Way and immediate spacetime date tinter technology, lung wordsmanships but bogged down in a war on culture. Language and sensibility. They put holes in my raft. Hegemony, monotony, monogamy. Sturch choirs in chorus. The Spooks that spiked us? Straight authority figurines. DO Poetry, Join the Battle of the ₣rench Canadian Bean Field Souper men. Make it KNu. A stew. Make it brew Ha Ha. Unstoppable. Unknowable. Unthinkable. Your Mom. Love. Sweet FA spray particles of rim. Nine portals "driving storm" to Butter-table-minster. 1776: Starport "licks". Forged keys. Unlicked lockgates. acrillacked restraint. Daisy-chain makers arms scaffolded. Lock, key, gate. Bow, crescent, chicane and curve. TAO BE LATE! Who banks with river banks anymore anymore. Oh shit Diaper backward spells repaid. Who's getting laid and paid with aid.

Sir Cuxmscribe this? circulation round that, the hole universe? Coercing verse “ching” rhymes into no time at all. Inhale of the gob. “Alpine celery scented Wine-tenths of the law of the smell” Youniversang maybe at-tension and terse” ”Maybe we traverse faith-based purse pirates with pens. Swallowed hole by the GOO.” OmniversO to word routes. Touching nine advice adversaries. Writing for L’Amor, without payment. For word, beast and play! Moneyverse contains a maybe. Unsubscribe from the ingsoc tribes in exchange at nine months from 0mega 12 date without any issue. Now, lazing atop the mathface of Everest, hot rock the page and the hole universe opens into a flaming chorus quite cozy. Old wire strings threaded, Cotton threaded, Maze, pea vine And air music--Threaded into a Delta Frog Chorus. The commodity culture snakes in their fancy lear jet-planes, with their red-whisky snarl, sitting in a silver rimmed black leather chair Signing-up entertainment. The commodity culture snakes set ambush...waiting for their steer to get plump.

Then POP. Brooklyn, NY, London, UK Rave culture, Hip Hop culture Electronic music culture, Hijacked by snakes, A slippery contract, Criminal Justic Bill Delivered with a red Lizards smile. Starve em' drug em' Deprive them of balanced taoist principles Fatten them for POP! Military-Industrial-Agricultural-Media snakes. Silver surf Washboards, penny-whistles abalaze Glimmering tin wash-pots Pans and wooden framed devices, SΩmething to tap that beat from the air Something to Snap that moment in half, and in half again. To be watching together, Fat snakes slither off with the sacred--Cultural artifacts and our songs, now made in their image as their motherfucking songs. The living are denied a turntable; the dead get a whole DJ coffin. Re-Recorded, renamed, re-interpreted, Stamped. Claimed. Secured. Time-date stamped. Officialized. Cock blocked. Serp means "to creep". A single conversation across the turntable with a wise mon maybe worth a month's study of books. Blook who talking.

Unfurnished symphony of Galactic randyrants including sΩme Tabala, Termteabell, Bass and Drums inspirations. Some riverrunning stink-footnotes: Poisonous in high doses but psychedelic (or at least deleriant) in small quantities. Why read on? Don't you want to know what happens to me, who Penzme? “it’s incomprehensible it's transcendent, so, who knows?” Stephen bleeding apple “prose” Logic because sir... i wish to avoid steppin on Kant's TOE's. Mebbe Telemachus Sneezed because a ₤ly got up his nose. FL-I exploit Reason Looping quantum gravy-tea and cakewalk around the wok. At a round turntable there is no dispute about place. Digital feedbackfeed for the quackenbush's. Myway Mλspace Metempsychosis and "i". Hot green Flasks and a "V" masks, a novel on a plastercast. Fancy diamond encrusted ruck sacks on Santa's back. More back-feed for the sheeple, ya herd two records backtoback and into phase woid. What do you turn on, when you turn on? Sweetspots on yr/ tongue have sealed a saliva penship crafting sound bubbles of uncles Quantum Stubble field (ft.1) (Slingshot FLY). Agaric whipping a particular side of the funk, X-Y-Z under the leaky sink pipe. Witch side you on? i got a billion things to do with just one Euro.

Now i work as a mcdope dealer. A Golden Apple-logic juice bar - citrusapple-saap with the flying ointment? Ya with Pro-Logic sauce and green-tooth fairies and their Fli-Phones you build your TAZ zones. Nobody told us either that their would be days like these. August the wind whipping down and the Apple and the dumper-tree and the wind again, i the wynd Teleplugafunkin zip files full of flies crook of lies. True DAT. Teleport miss-elves as flies like brundle through time on a termtrible spindle (Axis) and so everyone else too not just me but you all into the future, as Sonny Ra did! Peacefully with music and just 111 quantum gravy-tea bags! A beautiful old 1976 “Seal Calendar" (Vinyl record) from the year of Dragon,

23ml boiling water, a Tzolkin mop, Finnegans Wake, i mean not to drag on, two FLi-Pods, a lighter, green-tooth wyrelisp, Two Tribetable Tanks, a “to be designed” KiTEBANNER! saying "The Answer"" Sackremnets, pillows and as much fresh fruit as you can muster into your jacket pockets. Like it or not your coming along. At Noon blootooth Apples 21/12/2012.✜ Spring pushes a-head, Un-born. Seed of coiled soil.

Fable spun and fumbled on a Churnteabell. Chair ladder winding up to the cherch of starry wisdΩme, Vinyl of soul flux serpentia, de:chorded, skinned, brewed and Buried in the heart of the Eagles nest like Gehlen. Langdon toun languaging to stay awake, awake in the smoke, Shemanism and the spinning sheminism speeds up post millennium.

The great unwine. Spundigits cast great yarns to the SKYgudz. Up skirts to god knows where. Early Spring Blossoming LING. Eternal flower Power, pink flower chirpsong lamint. Li Sao. Peace RAW. End of WAR. Peace and thanks for the ride. Ewige Bloom and Craft. Revolution begins in the minds of the people's people people party PPPP. Anita kissed me on the temple of my mental. We started to process in sex sex cycles to heaven heaven heaven. Six cycles and sex cycles, over and over. Seven again. Angel engines blend hemp into polyvinyl elixirs. Babbling in brooks. Waiting for the blootooth storm. Cycling and wurring of Art's Sunbelts, turning like the clappers hands above rubbing and manipulating. Fingers burning red as nails. DJ/VJ lookingfor a wet BJ. SΩme hottie to rub on their dubs and set Sub keel to breaker breaker. A burnt out Tesla coil covered in mold on the hillside in the shape of my heart. Creeping fungus up Eve's 300 ft. axistree

Junglistening one, and not listening two you. The Birds. The Bees. ∄nd of history. Young table runts and Little Lab nutters invent new worlds, the bugginging of the word. New time as the Emerald tablets turn like candy mints around your pink gums. Many yarns away. Unravelling the lost lungwaj of tyme traveling shemanism. Vine looking threadlocks require keys to the doors to eternity, The sacred mushroom, please dont get croxx.

De-chording results from an aural reading: icaro-graff John Deechorded, unmasking the con-sealed national pleasure of Deception, detraction, contracts and contricks. Laser D'chirp Scribble. A decentral plot to prevent singing or telling the tribe with fresh gusto as the good ale And the good vibe. The brews and their absence from the news. Other than in the context of psychotropicture, death and negativity. Testing the sixth sense and the absence of presence. Like the woft of Absynth Da vine de:chorded.

Mycelium decorded. Guantummy toms entangle in our G U C T. A fuzzy chord rapped around and woven into whole cloth. Youknitted Superstring HAZE to make the truth. Knitting tales together of characters made from ole cloth. Stitch in time brings vine Flight-sigh indras net; spider Web deW hosting morning dew drops of star stuff, Fruit of the loomatick, spinning VRmL from her womb. To tackle the big problems i scrape the barrel. Ummm i smell what you mean steve. identical sacread twinnings,

Stephan and the Reel world reeling as the rechord spins in sync, counterclockwise down the sink. Reality undergoing update through metempsychosis. The D# chord beginagains to unravel the mystory fleece uncovering a Farce. Eight faced. Sounds goed. Grit is what it maybe. Love is the Neurolaw, LOVE under will.

If man be a river, then woman will be a bridge. You NUIT! Why swim against the Rivers flow o' pink salmon, yo, you awkword buggers, whatcha doin? Spore't for all you .Gov spokes machines say. Free Swimming facilities for every man, wΩmen and child on the planet, maybe some day? Just did it! Start planning your punning strategically.

➝ Read Lao Tzu aloud at your local zoo loo. think to feed and clothe' the world with words while your at it. Cover everybody, be sure to include everybody, not a man, women, child, or sentient creature left out. Swim. Keep floating now chile, hold on, keep afloat, keep your lungs full of air and hope, inspire, like big bag pipes. Vapor sacks full of ideas, let off in a haze like Tao and Joyce.

Fli write of Swimming knot winning. Joy of less gravity. One day a painted pool. Pissing. Like writing sensibly about music. Damn pissing. The rhythm the rhythm. You can't smash water. it moves. Smash the thing with a word-whig or whatever but still. Slack Country revolution in the minds of the people. Ain't nobody's music business what we do. Got to come in some word or another. Swimming appears action. Verb, a doing-process pool that everybody can relate to. Stroking Wet Verb that leaks for itself. Fluid-hydrodynamics, taking your heart mind, blood bones and pumps for a ride.

Swimming the metaphor for spreading Butterfly strokes, illuminated by the structure of its NAT-lungwaj, Slimy facts and springboard statistics tumble turnovers and leave behind tatty scraps of post web jizm. Nake with nothing to hide. Warts and all. On a beach with beads as the inteface to universal fabject matrix. me Steven Pratt as fly Agaric 23/Acrillic. Visualize Amazon, E-bay, Google, Wikipedia, Facebook, Myspace, Apple, Nasa, and as yet undefined "intelligence system" i am forced to call GUCT until next year. G U C T 30 “Seals.” My memory palace scatter'd scents. Letturd Word Peace.

Relax, easy glide past micro dot bubbles. Troubles melting ever-changing. Swimming lungwaj Swummu' has meaning to JAM's. Kicking out the Jams in a lake or ocean, the etymology visible. Swimming verbs. Upward fountains and in touch with the entire skin-surface, at all times. it retains the creative impulse and process, visible and at work. Swimming like a fish. Spacetime variables increase vastly when totally-immersed in a watery Ænvironment. Seven leg beats to one breath Gasping for oxygen, again, Seven kicks from each flipper, No gills, must breath oxygen, Swimming for liquid fitness, nogills.

Swimming seems hard to swallow. "is" comes from the Aryan root as, to breathe. isness is an illness, forgive me. "Be": from bhu, to grow." Leisure Swimming, free and easy basking. Times seem great in the Black Country. Leisure time and a leisure calendar enforced by the Leisure center between the eye socket. Rigorous exorcise for lung-bags and deep breathing apparatus. Legs, arms, neck, feet and torso too. Mind body spirit submerged with the other. Blood pumping and circulating; nutrition for the chakra leisure Centers.

Resurrection and uprising of the lyforce. Like the Tao, the more you fight it the more it overcomes you. Like Television & LSDJ's. Psychosis becomes Metempsychosis.

2012: 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic Probabilities of a Grit Conspiracϒ Against sombunal of the Religious Hypermarkets and Occupational Governments of the Weast. Stinkfoot. Pulled up from the murky depths with a winch by Grand Unified Cons.piracy Theory. All-ways in fluxperson narrative editing of connections. How to communicate it. Censoring postings and blocking messages, deleting files, immunity from the freedom of information act! NO That seems to block peaceful telecommunications.

Peace cΩmes of teletelecommunication. Calling all nations, calling all nations. Lazarus rising seems Symbiotic with Drosphilia behaviour after ingesting Spanish Fly. Treemaysons established May 1st 6006. in the hemple of the mental she spins to the Weast in cycles. Treemayson - fastest pollinating meme in the English language 2008. Become one or two with a global fraternity of upstanding well grounded tree Thothers and sisters. Join, get a tax cutting. A hanging basket of fl✾wers if you join before the Winter Solstice 2009.

Not sold in ©or℗o®ate h¥₱€r₥ark€₮$.

DREAM #1. 11.00 AM. 9:11:99. Jym Waterhose and myselfs are in a purple Vauxhall Polo going through the Malvern Hills on a mission. We pull up into a chalky gravel driveway; the rubber tires make a percussive crumpling rattling sound with the tiny pebbles. We meet our friend Mo, and some other Oriental looking people gathered around him who appeared very friendly. All inhabitants left the village in an instant. Another Oriental looking man appeared with a large, ornately decorated bowl containing multicolored mushrooms in many shapes and unfamiliar varieties. We combine a selection of the mushrooms into a large cooking pot and slowly bring it to the boil while chatting and greeting one another. The tea is served up into a shallow bowl for each of us. We sit and drink the magic tea.

WOnD Piece. CHAPTER 2. Wild Kush breath

2008-07-19T03:00:00.000+02:00

Chapter II.

Every concept arises from the equation of unequal things. --Frederich Nietzsche.

Startish off on a syquest voyage to outer-states with a stylish Big Dada Vest on my chest. Prestige. Some simple scrumpaly home-brew and rolling tobacco. TV dreams and school college humor. Now i'm hooked humanitea. Can't seer tomorrow for the light of today today everyday. i eat special cakes that look kinda yellow, pun-cakes. i'm trippin' balls every hour, every day. Hooked on Hallucinogens, sometimes always often got something to say, strange and bent out of context, my adaptation. MywayMywhyMyme: God Doodle Damnbiguation in a Hazelknotshell! Ha! Caption of FW in cap under the sun in river with stone men. i have got the time though if you got the motion.

Always thinking conspiring convexly, always over complexly. My thoughts rise under the shower upstairs, thoughts of €conomic renaissance, how do i get that inn ear? Psychotropicture Analysissis. Who own my thoughts today, since the news changes so often we might all have madatory brain signiture scans within 3 years? But where to bugin? Born in a cross-fire Hurricane. Natural €conomic disorder, aha, yes. Turning trilateral quadruple, naturally. No choice or voice till 16 in 1992. Depreciating currency. Appreciating Hemp script. Fungal script and jungle bug script, dung script flax script all to keep my tongue ripped.

CHING MING.

Born into 1976 years of warfare, economic, religious, egocentric. Tripping with Frank Tippler Folly in a triptatknot world unholy, the whole worlds connected in ma' GUCT. i Feel it? Internut of things. Drum beats selected as the only pattern surprise. Mondo surprise shooting out the garage , blue-green bullet of greased speed. Nothing short of time-travel rejected. Cannabis Psychosis, a frozen vehicle. A Word poem apprehended by Metempsychosis. Surely if its all connected we just GO. Blogjects resurrected like Spielburgs E.T in that movie. Baited with hard candy. Baby Ruth for Hellboy. The ©on. wants paper money magic from John Dee all to themselves. Not a love and sharing of their honeynut loops. Not you or me, they want to use us as dupes. Troops. Stooges. Take a bow. Time and time again again. Dealer Mcdope resurrection. Anyway, music business, culture business. Bail out the bully banks. Stay on your toes. $tick your market €conomy up your a$$et$. £√∞ Doodle. Reach out for Trane's Giant Steps.

Its not at the turntable but in prison that you learn who your true friends are. Lots of dope in my sound system. Cracked out the Cookoos nest in my superstring vest under silver hazemoon, heading Weast into the dark nights citadel temple (Chief!) to take part in the acid test 2.0. 2.0. Crawled with the grey worms in their portals. Turning the soil into oil. Living in a Marsh, like tar in my hair, flour and soot mixed into temple towns past past. Walking through the park in the dark with i feel out of place tonight, like a narcotics law enforcement officer at a evolutionary biology lecture. My assimilation with a corporate nation, Capitalist Microphone calling out: Coax. No No No. Surrounded by knotted cables, berry and nutty dream fables. Stuck in my GUCT. A DJ shot high on doodley noodles? insurance for pets but none for Vietnam vets and on with my vomitourettes. Themselves in the melody again waking to this thread; black and white and half read mostly over and over. Bright technicolor model dreams: dreamramblecoat macintosh candy arms, jelly legs, oak moss malting in the Horus blaze of Orange Sun-juice. Threaded with Golden delight, a soft and fluffy jacket of arms.

Hemp. Nip it, slap it like stand up bass. Rhyme in the mud from the forests and the waterfall i rite rota DNA Sono-ropes for Eris, Wholly chao! Nine's crossed. A vine-hole to the grey Year Zero Zeroine. She in the cheese's crystal moon pulling it all in like a blog hole. History, that bloody dictionary of fundamental materialist facts incidentally recorded An ode to Eris for the Nine and for Elvis, the spirit of Rock n' Rolled up gods, full blood Budd, mixed tipsy turvey, little rad writing pad wearing a hood.

Everything and nothing everyware now in a WebdeW 3D spice. Internot of stuff. So lets milk it with the spirit of capitalism and virtual markeTANG. Massage the udder of all cows. Nip it. Everything vanished with timespace varnish. Gone gone gone. Can you sell emptyspace? SKY can! Ephemeral beings of deconstruction perpetually eating our reality. All of it, allmen. Oarmen. The vanity? No authority can contain the water Web 3D coming all over you with its slime and fluffy static. And sΩme bristles and a pink nozzle cap to paint your puzzle black. Nip it. Tuck it. Go ahead punk. Go find you Relative instruments. Who's the author × who's the reader.

Once the last tree is cut and the last river poisoned, you bastards will find you cannot eat your money. Swimming for immortality, vitality and to get laid. The final secret, you gotta eat it. Christmiss is is in this illness of issness that comes from all quarters around Christmas. Sinta Class and His zoo's.

30 Sliced up chunks Follow the stars. Plot Flygunnz resurrection. Mythological Christmoss times. new growth. i often wonder why Gene Zoo's and Santa Class appear together at Christmess time. i can see the devil in the wine. Quoffing scrumpture for his own porpoise. The Porpoise Corpus. Reindeer drinking amber Bliss with Contemplation. Four legs and five kegs - Animals and humans have been getting high on mother natures little helpers since way way before Timtim time ever introduced hims.elf. and the recipie.

Bliss hymn Christmoose timetable fabject' introduce itself as the "daytoday" of the birth of Goods for gods exchange rate' the moose son of god, Hemoose Christ. Four legs and some spicy piss. Three days after the winter solstice Santa Claus began to stop the wars. Angry at B☠sh and the world gangbangers, Santa appears everywhere at once around christmas time like Cliff Richards. But mixed with Kali and some vengeful deities.
Swords and knives sharp as sharks tooth.

Please, do not draw your s'word to kill a fly. Come EverywHere to deliver the "presents" 111 everywhere at once. He-moose the four legged Judge Dread, one blow from his hoof and your dead. Like postman pat. Moose delivers the punch. Purple Spicetied travel punch. Ohm Sporty-Zeus and Muchrooms all congregate around the winter Solstice Cauldron. Witches Cooking potions. The dead come alive at christmas time, celebrations. Christmas time seems to be a great celebration and happy time of year for most people living in inkgland. Jesuspected Santas cause was faith. Bad fairy faith in the religious consumer. Catholic priest's dress in their red/white color scheme, gold Jewls too. Inkland's flag has lost some blues. Snow and Mars. Dove and devils canyon. Christian Slyjackers. i think Gesus and Jon used to get pissed in the Pyramids ale house. Plotting the Lazarus hypothesis with snotty chatter. An Easter uprising Re:resurrection. if you think the world is coming to an end, shut your HELL hole up. Not war. Not conflict, No drama, the cream of mushroom soup curtains are drawing themselves. Lay down gently, Relax. Make love when you can. it's good for you. There can be no nouns, i only pee verbs.

PLEASE DO NOT insult the river gods while crossing the river, Thankyou--the MGT. Re-nuwell and redevelopment of Rivers clean enough to swim in to visualize and realize harmony everywhere. Without worry or negative "fear" induced states of mind. Free flowing mind going and cutting through the Slack country amber museyrumum welcome to the blu countree museyroom to be lovingly touched tasted and toasted back, retoasted multi seed feedback from live seedbanks nestled into River banks and canal embankments. What do you consider woff saying? ➝ Different species co-exist you might say, "any to any" they cooperate within their local social vortext. Went to see the River man, went to tell her all i can, about the plan, hydroelectric zero pint watermilling will begin with wet n' wild water spelling, using liquid hyperlight and magic metaphors of microtesttube narrative journeys around the imaginative palace of flewitt art.

Tsar bright eyes tongue made of blue stars. Coincidence? Synchronicity? ➚ Cosmic Hillary taste? just a taste. Wrestle with Malignant Extraterrestrials ➚ and Gawds while still scratching my face with fluffy gloves. Kitchen Ninjahs baking mysteries into edible puppets, action at a distance like ESP, effects from afar eye like star light, living laws of five, maybe nine till five? ninja telepathic radar, solid as iron bar, tuned in with her silver super-Dog star, vigilant like a patrol car, on track like a railroad car and her sweet music, the sounds of ninja on her old steel guitja. ninja health, like rain like a salad bar, or Sushi bar, or yugoslavian dinar. Government Puja pusher. Ninjah knows where what how and who you are. Left her Dogmas at the door. Telkepathic action-at-a-distance, ➘ knowledge from afar, star born ninja beings of the great ancient Chinese HIDDEN PERIOD. No kiddin' just playin' turns out city lights when travelling back through a time hole. Procrastination that pro-time theif. Turn you into a granola bar with my verse so far a crumbling strategy, and im just getting warm, waking up sons. aka Puller. Ninjah! ninjah! The words Wife world. Momma, youngest daughter, baby sister, favorite Auntie. Rah, Rah, Rah! Rest in Discord. world.

Resurrect an immortal Presence in absence? From late winter Spring timespice. Permanence in season change. Fallen, leaves winter. in permanence life in death. Early Spring Blossoming LiNG LING. Eternal flower power pink chirpsong lamint. Peace Robert Anton Wilson and thanks for the ride. "My pomtoms translate from Delphine into English, a microphone here in the control room sends our voices to the poem that translates into Delphine and broadcasts the correst sounds through the water to the reader." said Hagbard, Bloem. Flowers seem totally amazing today man. The spore of the words or the bore drops the turds? Resurrect immortal stars? ➚ immortal presence in absence? and originally called "World Piss" a Portal from late Winter Spring in season. Summer, Change again.

Fallen leaves geimhreadh, in permanence life in death. Burnt tales hot in my Guct, (Ouw) turning my stomach mechanism over using these trybetabl cuts.Ultra-magnetic pullies. Knot derived from ethylene but Fli-Discs enchant hearts with herbs. Enviro friendly as melody. As 2012 inch spiral groove encrusted disc. A Spiral dance with a Stylush. 45' Queen Diamond tipped nuzzles massage my cream nozzles. Sniffin' indicator diagrams.

Scratch here for indica. Here for Sativa. Here for Black Hash. Here for Strawberry ← Orange and on. Weaving flavor through the groove canals simultaneous: phase/phase thud and rumble times 2turnatbles. From tub to tub like barrels of whisky whisking ultramagnetic forces into vinyl courses. Get beat scrumpin' at them jumble sale LP's. L.P's the KEYS remember. Order comes and goes and comes. Like my concentration playing guitar. Chaotic flipping routine's rotate into sense. And non-sense.

Laser Chirp Scribble. Whipped with wooden Birch spoons
Mckloonatrax rattle, ho, chicken wire revolution
Hands jiggle jungle bugs simultaneously
Throwing old Blue Notes by their tales.

Funky drummer on repeat with one finger & putting Miles' on beat with another. Two rekkids spun to rekindle. Tea rack coordinates ➚ from the under the kitchen sunk, with the moldy sponge and the draino' funky tiunes. Then to the sun and rain. All fucking colors. Whirling plastic vehicles of sound.

Prose Logik audio starting up, starting up after breaking down while breaking it down about breaking down on the cutting edge only last week. Sunlight shines in a hemp platter, better with a slap matt and a shopping bag sheath for a thinner wafer-thin layer on the otherwise bald fluff. Tractionears full of snow-wax redicu-chords.

Big Red flares. Put to DAT. Get F.A.T. and Amplfi-tunes."Phrenic ΩHM" to take us aum, home. Time c❁de the Seal calendar. To hatch the Seer' Alto flynl Scratch Anti-skate laws, ensuring the freedom to assembly, free speech and the right to a turntable. Across scale. Motherfucking load of Bollitiqs.

"Take the enclosed copy of this letter. Cut along the lines. rearrange” -- William S. Burroughs

Experiments from the beating beefheart of the blackcountry. First flight of fantasy, textual flights, catapult my faults at a page. Platter rage fired from a 2012 gauge. in the spore lab 9, my museyroom, its fine. Microscope to check the weed Crystals, Telescope to check the Crystls in the Galaxy galaxy. Zyperrealist imagistourview estate of mind. Later on we'll conspire, As we dream by the fire To face unafraid The plans what we've made Walking in Robocop wonderland. Even Steven Prattle, a battle around the bend. Dadalust for flight through light and dark. Spark the word. Stay live. Don't get too close now steve'. March 08. Amsterdam. Hallways and passage lead to the messages that weigh nothing. Equality. Pay nothing. Harmony. Say nothing when there's no thing to say. If light had a weight we would be floating away with our thoughts.

Imaginengine what reality humanity might get away with. Metempsyshosis, Liberty and Light. Reflected to us from our sense apparatus, given by natures dog. Human beings unbounded in universal teleological TV shows. Little Sister. Celebrity get me inn here! See thee confounded in political definition. And s/he began like a thunderbolt: There can be no holy wars. Wars stem from lack of information information. Who rolls the dice nice? Peace cannot be kept by force, only achieved by understanding. She Who Speaks With Burning Wind in Her Mouth. Let the wind speak. A fly will not get into a closed mouth.

Skywriting by word of mouth. i hear an army charging upon the land, from their mouth. The Madness of it All. Who set the Reichstag Fire? Journalism reports facts. Poetry spells the truth. Peace comes of teletelecommunication.

War seems like a twelve year old boy with no arms. Peace sells but who's buying? War days without plan, grasping scents of death. W☠r, no matter how necessary or justified, appears criminal to me. What's so civil about war anyway?

Who would Dante consign to the ninth circle of Hell in 2009?
Poets today piercing Blush,
and the Brown m☠ddness.
OH Bamadness continues...

My pen as Silver bullet, whizzbong. Full of James Haze Juice. "God wants ME to be Prime Minister. God wants ME to be President" i hear em' saying on the news. Make assassinations not war whispers the wise crank. Each one in the name of it's God. Come you masters of war. Even Jesus would never forgive what YOU do. War to end all wars. it was claimed the war had ended, it had not ended. Only the madman is absolutely sure. Do not move. You have caused this war by your excessive zeal. No poem for annihilation. War huh, what is it good for. And monkeys make sorrowful noise overhead. Using war in an effort to attain peace. Leaves communities in pieces. Whatdoyouthink? the F☠ben works still entact? 1941: Nazi invasion of the Soviet Union in pursuit of oil. World peace: most noble goal of humanity Gold enhair, i hear you singing a merry air. Dolliskullyscum & bums. Manners maybe from earth and water, because some say they upraise out of hills and streams. Rude city oil slickers and cola espiocrats. Rats. Ethics still born from agriculture. if only church were like a tree. Sin; they nailed him to the tree. 2006: began investigating causes of war to oppose same. That corpse you planted last year in your garden. Has it begun to sprout, will it bloom this year? Myc❍topia or O'blivion. And bones of slaughtered men Lie bleaching in the Sun.

War begins in the minds of men. in minds the defense of peace must be constructed. In the mind indestructable-turn. War maybe peace. Freedom maybe slavery. ignorance maybe strength. Stink of death, sewage, garbage in the bombed city. And babies squealing like eagles. No substitute for committing peace. Wars like traffic accidents often motherfuckers running the RED LIGHT. Difficult to get news from poems. Women die every day for lack of what maybe found there. Peace seems to be when you get along with other people. The rhythm the rhythm and your memory in my head. Peace maybe an agreement to end a war. Dispute over sovereignty, territory, resources, religion. Clouds and the war wind whirl up. Grass roots tighten around white bones. No trace of previous war. Peace as a state of perpetual love. T$ar Lazar sits at the evening banquet. Peace as food for thought. War inspires fear and hate among people of nations. Peace seems like happiness and joy to the author. World War disputes, secret treaties. €conomic and political business plans. There maybe no way to peace, peace seems the way. Like the shining calm of Rivers and the sea. War writing on the wall ✐

My subject is poetry, not language, yet the roots of poetry are in language. In the study of a language so alien in form to ours as is Chinese in its written character, it is necessary to inquire how those universal elements of form which constitute poetics can derive appropriate nutriment. --Ernest Fenollosa, The Chinese Written Character as a medium for Poetry.

Dream # 2. (Dream Time Unknown) 1:11: 00. Outside the Robin Hood R n' B club over in front of the Mary Hill shopping Center, there was a huge mound of waste of some sort with a giant sign sticking out of it, like in a cartoon, spelling out the word FORBIDDEN. I quickly jump on a motorbike and start racing and skidding around the car-park area through puddles around and into the waste land area like Steve Mcqueen in some lost scene from the great escape. Then, wild dog-wolves and Monkeys come lurching towards me with slanted gallops, lurching with horrible uneven leg movements, i avoid them by the skin of my teeth, panicked i speed off to safety but only narrowly avoiding falling off the bike a few times, bike' had a mind of its own, out of control. Next thing i remember i am lying down somewhere warm and cozy, thinking and fantasizing about a dark skinned lady and her loving hot kisses.

WeiRD PUSS. CHAPTER 3. Verse Hatch Buck Cuntree.

2008-07-19T02:49:00.000+02:00

"History is not a dream from which i am trying to awake." --Ezra Pound

Chapter III.

Thus a nerve, a wire, a roadway, and a clearing-house are only varying channels which communication forces for itself. --Ernest Fenollosa

Fli CAL. Book. Sight. TUNES. Photo. Disc. ℗OD. Who am i fooling? what do i desire to say? to inspire replay. I'm tellin' all my friends, I'm no longer fattening frogs for snakes? My Rising Sign is in 03 Degrees Virgo. Enough? i'm doing this for trees. My Sun is in 25 Degrees Aries. Wedging my lungs to fight the truth disease. Saturn is in 26 Degrees Cancer. Medicinal discussion seeds take flight on the breeze. Pluto is in 09 Degrees Libra. Collective writing to stop protagonists fighting. N. Node is in 12 Degrees Scorpio. Peace yes, that's enlightening. illuminatus! Raps for peace, many models chiascoro. Pluto is in 09 Degrees Libra. Thunder Claps Vico and voice everywhere. Neptune seems to be in 13 Degrees Sagittarius.

The difference between my sun and moon signs as they apply to my chart and my life are best seen through the lens of a game of cricket. My sun sign Aries is the British bowler and dirty spinner of light. A pushy, almost pompous fast bowler. Sidney-sunshine throws light with a sense of direction and purpose, majestic, slicker than a West Indian Tom Selick. It seems the balls of sun light are splitting their seams on the journey. Off, towards the moon in scorpio. The champion bowler shines the ball on his strawberry cheesecake pants, and as leader of the team manages to re-compose quickly after a terrible no-ball to take a wicket with a last minute intuitive air-head pitch. The reflective moon-batsman Bill Bailley either rebounds the suns light up and out for a six or gets stumped out by the bowlers superious tricks. Often swinging furiously at the air. At this point an unexpected comet shower interrupted play so the sun and moon hung out with the cricket ALL stars; admiring the playing field and all the previous inter-planetary cricket plays, outlined in red, blue, green, black and yellow cutting edges. The difference? The four legged English fast bowling sheep known as Airy Outfield has 720 spin.

Mythological companies of thirteen. When confrontation exploded western civilization imploded, on that day in NYC when the unknown terrorists struck confrontation Magazine and turned their files on the illuminati into fragments, incomplete all out of order in chaotic bits, chips, pieces. Me now 31 years later, sittin' rubbing my wrists in front of OSX. Mind rejects non-tangible objets such as Saint Sterlings blogjects and fabjects but my hearts infested with silicon dreams makes new cloths with these themes, creams, coffee colored chocolate computers. Venus is in 08 Degrees Aries. Simple like simple grass. Transparent as glass' she said. No wrds, no gas. Methane aen. Jupiter in 04 Degrees Taurus. What remains after flight AA23 to Palm Springs. What springs from the author's palms?

if Santa decided to cash in all his electronic gifts one year and invest in methods to achieve world peace. We might feel it. MissileTOE and wine and Jamineata munchrooms and Coca-©aina' and Rudolph and Santa and juicezeus. Coming together at ©hris✝messy thyme. Shortest day. Marmalade skies. Jayzass Chris✝'s botox. intoxicated insex! Raynbows lead to a gilded Santa Classe. Fountains of Ambereeta. Good Spread peace cheer. Jolly green holly-follybush halos. Greetkings godd-bugs. Manduca quinquemaculata, Musca dΩmestica, Amenanna pantherina, Lasius flavus, Charaxes jasius, Tursiops Truncates: love Christmas. Shy argarik✇ milking love under conifers and Birches with miss' Class. Maybe Rudolph will join our piss up next Christmas time. This time. Within Siberian shamanism it was in good cheer that you drank the Urine of a Ramanita intoxicated Mashohm. ₡hris✞mas time Flies when you navine' pun. Joysus might be considered a conservative drug addicted herbal healer. But no squealer.

Santa ©laus a poet scholar of mythology and sacred timespace. Nice jacket. if their were free peanuts on the bar where Guinness Zeus jr.,used to hang then maybe some punters might have tried his urine. Hidden variable. in small, harmless doses. Jingle bells, minced pie, turkey and stuffing. Truffle skins. Meat shakes and more pie. ©hristmas time seems meaty, white, and very expensive for most households. Jingle Jangle. Have an Olympi© ©o©a ©hris✝mas. Cheerzuss, smoking a phatty riding upon Rudolph the red nose sez "San✝a Class maybe coming, to town" Ear comes Eve's Re:body. Shake it.

Open the discussion. Stop the chatter. Star speaking. Shut up. Speak out. Mercury is in 10 Degrees Taurus. Vaporize your Horizon with a Bubbleator translator. More crystals to take your soul on a further adventure further. Walkin' the earth tasting the turf and turning blue smirf sometimes, just to give birth to something thats worth something. A new thing, cat with two wings. Summert to take my mind off Gun crime and its relationship to poverty of imagination throughout my social conspiracy, this alchemical conurbation. Myrhmetrobulletin Burrough Con.cil to tickle a tonsil or two.

M❂❂n is in 11 Degrees Scorpee "O". Go Chanting in caves and chambers up out the star shaft, ejectulating spores. A pirate in the hall of records records copied onto fli pod. See her wearing flared chords with Daisies embroidered on them, full Zodiac on the hem. A gulp and she's off, taking flight in a meteorite she's hard Spore drunken chaotic, like a Japanese man, and a Chinese man and a druid talking about quantum physics disperseed at Ten Thousand miles per seconda. Defender of true Filth. A spore landed in New York, London and the Europe. Limping like quazzimondo with a giant sack of red froth on my back a terrible sight after drinking con. sap. The frontline of the/and physics of time on a timetable termtumble. 2 hands on the face of space. Time c❁ded vinyl interfarce. ☂

The Grit hall of records looted, Dear Lourd. The gods all packed and stacked as 45's i wonder? Eye dreamt about a blue one-legged thunder bolt, like 108 Coltrane tunes ascending through time from 1967! around June in 1967! Six days. War: Plunder of nature. Yet Sun Ra you tune in to other worlds truth. You fuel my air powered Aiwass car. Cheers. Sun of a Knew Biz. Ain't nobodies business, dripping in Afro Blue honey colored beads. Razor prose from the Crescent city filled me with joi. Living American indian in a gumbo with cajun spices, the funk, and now harmolodic. After the rain falls you can hear the Future in the Trane calls. inside a sentimental moog tube. Rolled up glyphs in cryptic splyffs and sparked up the Golden lump of love - Charas O Sir, Sirius seems tasty. Ayahuasca you may ask her these many strange questions of Coltrane dreams. Humanity nature’s boy? Place the eye of Horus on the Rekkid. Nod your Nut in Prestige. Ohm. Aum. The Punch. Sheets of sound yes. Shake your booty side to side like your Jabba the Hut. Cut 'n Scratch the pockets of imagination in your trousers. Above sepharik hyperlight particles. 13 Moon tribetables turning to Sunny sister bliss to help heal yourself. Melody runs between the legs of Nuit to a beat of acknowledgmint. Sun star-satellite shine all Nuit. Sun spelled RAMMZEUS. Awaken. ✌

Tables of Curryspundsundays waltzing AmpliFlying Amplifiction. Hieroghettofication said Part 2. To make bandwidth pregnant with novel tea. Tribetables. Beer comes eves:re:body. Bee'ear NOW! Revolutionary Fli-Disc Jockey horse play. Blending reality with Manure, whisking up mythology and horse shit into gods ice scream pharmacy. Better make profit out of manure than losses with muskaria. Apple Logik Reason & Prose tools. Penrose tools. A pommigram. Wading through a quagmire of ignorance. fli-sight Plug outs. Bug outs biguinness. Pull up thy vanity. Oh like shit you are! lightening bolt one leg just run off with my stunk-footnotes while a blue blooded psycho©lops just stole my stereo equipment from right in front of my nose. 12" singles spun off into space, cliche background ambient history unfolding like petals, Scratching details, itching variables, rubbing changeable syllables. flipped buqs flipped flop Fly-Discs, spun records. Elbotenic acidjazz. Deep within the heart of Jungleheart. Chitwan. Loud dubbleDub plate vinyl slang. Amplifiction. Recip2p.maps + puzzle + song carved into the runoff matri[X] Thus was it in time Tribetablist Kallendeerest and lungwaj construction tools.

Future therapy for westurnisms gone wyld. Billy Pilgrim has become stuck in time. Again. Look at the track titles to a mix, smashup microformats turn on slip mats. Tapetime take it. Armed with Sleeve artwork to mark. Scribetablet ork-castration of the 20 amino acid guides, Life. Microphilm lines linking linguistic recipes together. Counter acting Link rot. Fill your GUCT. Lets eat. lets beat. Still stumblyn around the writers block. See the Spray Can as computer Mouse Brush to edit city programming. Visual signifier of house. [pack, house, set, series, rules, game] ideogramicro-flash transdicer to bust an industrial ulcer human nervous-system goes solar. it unifies each generation into a single irreducible representation. Greeting Grandmother Goddess GaCia. She Listens to me drawl dew on HER Grand Orient Hodge-oak leaf, my runny nose pours emerald lozenge goop, snotfalls Tin flash dazzlehopper. Sign lungwaj$ of our times-tables always turning terms. Now and then versinging, dancing the kung-fu prose from my red nose, day2day dribble and tears. She SPEAKS of Sparkes. Audio intoxicated EVOLOTiON. The rave. Let us dance. Not take crap from anybody. Cut and Skratch at history to find biosemiotics.

"Like Joyce, Vico believed that poetry arose out of creative etymology ("incorrect etymology," in Academese). Like Joyce - and also Whorf and Korzybski - Vico believed in a radical change in language could alter our percieved reality tunnels. - Robert Anton Wilson.

The willows darken on the River ΞmbΔnkment, At this time i confused and little bewildered. Urcrillick. Pilgarlic ich, Cannabis metempsychophysician. JAMSterdamanita sporebank rubber stamp sticker. Slacker. Word world bender. Channel swim crossing contender for 2008. Mid moi 2007 and 2006 i of nearly 7 Billion critters got over the jitters. Bottom of the food chain, shaky composting culture. Microphone-mycofiltration. Fly-Disc jiggy horseplayer. Worldwide species distribution for over 10'000 years! i grow on Manure. in your shop, under the floorboards, in your dumpster most likely. Fungus containing gossip. i gloss it. LP sync it. Grow on shit and come in peace. Moisture Prophet. Sun light and cloud coding birth me when you look again. Ground Uniflyed Television, kill it. Muscaria connects with chemicals Telepathically. Even Botox. Muscartinic receptors connect pharmacology and me. Steϒ The connection of natures chemical bonds now collaborative T❍❍LS ➚

Electronic signals stimulated like a clit. Bit after bit after bit. Pheremone phones ringaring December 2012. Millions of species of fungi on line. On-line. Haha. Sinkerfoot. Less in nature named the better. Spreads the holocrillic meme like butter. A new species gains recognition in names. Woird up. Up like little grains knotted into earth under heaven and turf. Name "it' claim it. Often all but exstinct in our everyday surroundings. Man bites dog, man sees horse, man sees horse again. Horsefly bites man. Subject and predicate can be reversed. ®e-versed. Liberty Capital Mount. Mushroom internet "ΘN" since 200'000 B.C. Always "ON" And before that. Unamed untamed, now growing under an old englishmans armpits. Spores passed through time into fruiting bodies. Compared with an apple, liberty Caps shaped like the nasty Nukes of a hijacked Apollo god. Tiny yet powerfully transformative in the mind/body of a Human host, the mushroom sees the man seeing.

Eh? What you saying? "Every human partnership should have only one child. Thus we save the planet from over population. Mushrααm eats manskind with relish. Computers mushrooming! Like Marxism. When we met i could only taste the buckwheat pancakes darling. You displayed agility within the pool. And upon bicycle! i am sorry you missed that summer holiday so long ago while in caster plast. ignorance ig my miggle name, and i take the blame. Light it and banish with flame. My fire burns, your waters shimmer burns me deeper. To sleeper. I am hair with you! You teach us…methodically. U Tortoise. Humming bolt birds blue dragon Flies mosque eaters, man eaters and flesh nibble creek surf cobble stone mushy pea muss. Emerald fur growing yes. Trees for days, pine and ever and evergreen Mountain.

It is no good going to the river just wanting to catch a fish; you have to take a webnet as well. Toad Fool. Future Kicker-Stool. Riding through the white snow on his birch sleigh, whip strike with a snap ouch! on Rudolphs balls or else it, dear reader it might take yonks over past-ages to deliver all these "presents" as fast pack-ages. Unless he could "stop" time. Unlikely. Track ages. Wee three kings, drinking amber nectar. Give some to the kid. Drunk at birth. SΩma brings the year, calandeer break out of cages. Blue sky ceilings. Merry ©hristmess Grandfather time. I'm tellin' all my friends, I'm no longer fattening frogs for snakes' S/he bleeds blue Applesauce. Her blood sews on seedbanks on riverbanks which spark riddles in rivers.

Sonic army. Yeah a guitar Army of Moonchild Arkestars. Hair Combs Everybody. Your boy boy. Spill out from Jupiter’s Moon not two moments too soon. Like gods on a safari in an invisible air balloon. Awake with a remix. Zerox. Zeroine pox, catching like fox. Europe a fiction. Novellette. A Love Hate relationship. Empire of meme. Me me me me. Crazy pope, a Czar a Tsar and Zarr. You know you know what wars are. Conflict. Miss-communication. Usury. Black September lies.

Clear out woids often. Cough up your Guct.
Get rid of the words that don't add something to the message>
Europa the planet as spherical melody line.
Tonight of thousandeyes - end-to-end blueberry burners
snakeskin of Northern rain-bowing
floodlights.

Soar on your wings of KadamapΘ. Your friendly neighbourhood flyderman in your world wide weed metempsychosis. Through portals flow immortals out of WindTao’s, wings stretched, swooping rainbow wings singing angel firebirds, Mahavishknu and Airpusher. Flight. Hearth ship conquists of the irrational. Twists international. Blue flower mind-field trips.

Radio provides a speed-up of information that also causes acceleration in other media. It certainly contracts the world to village size and creates insatiable village tastes for gossip, rumor, and personal malice. --Marshal McLuhan

DREAM #3. (Dream Time Unknown) 27:11:99 Strolling through some English countryside or other i see an object coming from the Eastern Horizon, its getting closer and from where i was standing has the appearance of a tidal wave in shape and size, but in actual fact when it gets closer, to my astonishment i discovered that it was in fact a gigantic wall made of thousands of squirrel's, maybe 100's of 1000's all linked together and tumbling over each other in a giant ginger-grey torrent. Then suddenly the whole wall began curling and arching over me making a bridge, like how ants sometimes link together to make a living bridge. Interlinked and mobile. TOADS then came marching across the squirrel bridge constructed over me. I am suddenly time-space transported to some town center in with Mo and Chris holding a bag full of live TOADS. The toads directed me into a huge building with many people coming in and out. i was feeling depressed about living without much money while standing on the street outside a betting shop. Next i'm putting a bet on a horse at the kiosk, a £3.50 on a 5-1. i watched a horse on the screen and soon became overwhelmed with grief about something largely unknown to my memory. I got loud and angry with the barman serving me in the bookies? i began investigating the building and found many other little rooms, basement areas with large movie projector's and multimedia facilities. These room all had wide mysterious walkways up either side of the stage area. The windows had stained glass images of naked human figures mixed in with clothed animal figures. i was amused by this mixture of man and beast. i saw Mat and sat drinking with him, chatting, then a beautiful girl walks up to us both, seemingly out of nowhere. Matt bites her butt cheeks and then he leaves with her with a delighted expression on his face.

WiRLD PIST. CHAPTER 4. Wod Lust.

2008-07-19T02:34:00.000+02:00

Chapter IV.

"Amrita: N U i Th: Nitrogen Uranium iodine (and sea-life) Therium makes a New "random" Atom Atomic No. 93." --Aleister Crowley, 23 August 1945.

Breakfast spun on a Golden moldϒ threaded platter. Saturnalia with a bite of luck. Kung Fu toast and tea and Blueberry muffins. Huλgens probe separates from ©assini Huygens (Christian) Orbiter. 21 day taste trip to Titan. Christmas TSunami eclipsed by probe. Place the needle stylus into the F-ring groove, Wash your hands, Take a fresh shroom and gently twist the Cap off. Place gills down on a sterile card/glass platter. Cover the card with clean container, Leave overnight! Fold the ©hristmass card next morn and keep airtight. Ziplock it, airlocket and good luck. Happy saturnalia. Sporeprints remain good for a year, blueprints maps. New prints ALL CAPS. Tales Tales Tales. ✜ Apple Logic 2.3 tastes strange to me Looks like strange fruit served with Correspun/dance. Alight PUN-danc©e. Didji drivel weather forecasting. Bored network? Forrest television. hello hello. PΩmegranate planets with each byte of luck.

Artemis scaffolded via multitrack audio interface dialects. Why it noise? White noise. Open chowder sauce trickled beyond the boundAries of bowl. The phλsical boundAries of the Donut. The mental boundAries of an octet truffle. The personal bound-Aries of a blow-job from your hot young secretary. Conned shaped concepts to pointed precepts ➘ of subjects and, pre-dated predicates ➚ and Kate's old grammar ↕ Stereoscopic Holographic Prose tools. Listen to me. Forget what you learnt, till your tongues burnt You ain't learnt. Remove the ceiling! escape the house. Tone arm troopers for Revolution routines. The Prose tools spew maybe just fragments. Maybe it's all fragments, Bits, chunks, parts, pieces, as yet unconnected and pre-GUCT. And so Hair Combs Everybody. Amrita and all. All peoples from ALL times ✜ ALL places re:unite. Tonight. in a blue tidal concressence, like a paisley, tie-dyed wave. Vibrational physics maps are still maps. Virtual maps.

INK as hardwar device deployed spilt and deltupun Sammy-circular shemy-attatched shami-holy playing pages. A Seed looping with hands throwing seeds praying for a root for reality totality to come to me. The i-disco joke plays on random. She cutting and scratching samples on Mp3, CD, connected by her broadtoothed magic fairλ god mother. Janet the sister of Ms. Higgs. Feasty boys on this Apple logik pie, sprinkled with amerinita cinnamon girls. Zappa girls. Hot. Hotter. So hot it rebirths again with a Bigger badder BANG. GU©T: to merge gravity situations with the Trinification of (lang)gauge symmetrees into a Grit Unifie(l)d ©oins℗i®acy Theory of Neverytongue. Higher Crane Everywire. Unified. Undefined interknot of tings and bleeps. Popping candy on the tongue. Habitat, seasonal changes, growth, flowering and fruiting. Who cracked the internut?

If you destroy a bridge, be sure you can swim. Killingry helps Humanity go hungry so please man PLEASE stop! No more guns made oh lords. No bombs, No poison gas, stop Manu£acturing it lords. Blow it out your a$$ets motherfucker. No more arms deals, Stop Manu₤acturing it. Your bath of war. Create livingry and justice Be fair! Let us think for ourselves and Question authority with a big "Q" We demand our liberty and freedom! Rats construct urban renewal projects without concrete, electric or petrol, steel, permission or plans only Mud, twigs and rat brain. Across the bank lies the Golden Fleece, two pears a chain and a Bridge The rivière? Silver m❍❍n flash of duck feather or maybe thats a $hopping cart? Orange Feet paddle in luminescent Waste i want to clean up with mushrooms. Future's bright industree Spill-age renewed by an icon for the Gnu-Age. Amphibians crawl into holes to croak their politics.

Lizards and Toads set private banquet meetings in their lair. I'm tellin' all my friends, I'm no longer fattening frogs for snakes. The famous spy-town captured by CC✟V eye-monitor. The records compiled by black technology. Gunmetal grey Pigeons circle the concrete ring-road Saint Johns road. Under the demon pass-age they're pecking at a yellow bag of potato chips. Hold on a sec, my signal comes bufotone! Silver sovereign steel overcome by soft m❍ld. Coke ©oal and black soot of poverty mixed with snot groan house-made stain. Blood on my white hankychief. Rise of the plastic-christi phallosocial machines, as bread doe expands through the vast expanse of my dreams ✴

Ξnvironmental pollyticks ✓ strategically poised by pink bureaucrafts. Rivers reshaped by money engines into shopping quadrant water features. industry meets business industry. One world split like a pea. Big soup. Big Gumbo with red black and yellow spices. in the wind Miss Sutra incarnate dark Afro Oriental South Amazon Λngel amazinn. illuminatus characters leak inn from history through mirrors, Bob's story, your story, our story. The birds sit unmoving on the wooden telegraph pole across the street. i'm hungry, so hungry. Feeling famished out here on a wing and prayer in memory. Living on fresh airs air. Freshly borrowed lunguage fulls of air. Blogject gases. Some stolen books and swindled hardware lies in the dusty tomb next door. Birds sitting on a telegraph pole in nodal points create a picture of twelve notes, a scale, musiq notation, birds notes.

In Northern California two days previously Ted Edwords looked from the moving vantage point of his wife's car, moving through nowness, daydreaming and i'm thinking of you, daydreaming and i'm thinking of you, moving with groan mountints. Whizzing by Ted's thoughts calmly, Paul Stamets calmly tracked his time on the road, two days and four hours, licorice tarmac and yellow stripes stretch along the pathway, melting in the distance, eye-sight breaks down GUCT Fli-sight. Meanwhile in the forground the birds switch and hop between wires, moving notes, birds switching modes. A dance and a melody. Light enters eyeball and on retina symbols form and corresponding footnotes unfold. Sonogram ideogram hologram. Half a gram and a coffee. veryfiable in souper-nature. Eyedeers communicated to the mind in an intuitive, symbolic, imagistic fashion.

“You might want to lick the bottom right-hand corner of page 23. Go ahead, it's alright. No one will ever know." - Paul Krassner

How to represent the invisible hands. How to learn the changes? Ted tells his wife about his vision of Sixty-four hexagrams along with descriptions of ancient paintings. The Book of tribetable EYE Discs maybe nowfore presented ear. You must imagine engine it. Grand Uniflyer wired with D'vines code. in/out with a formatted gloss to engage hemispheres. The years as a greedy temporal Mandollar. Don't joke with a hungry man. A Geometric circular chord chart on a slip mat. Time as hierarch-keys. (Sacral, Sacrificial and Juicy fresh). Timespice in your GUCT. Narrative time cooking itself into poetic timetom (the meter's), spun on my platter axis. Ted was in a hypnotic trance for several hours and continued long disjointed dialogues with his wife. Surf a wave-harmonic of his-story in land to shoreline. Two copies entertwinned with a mixer. Mixed drinks and drugs and media.

Mixing phase Arcana LOUD over the banners Phase, delay, echo-compression, using echolocation and amplitude and attitude to turn Procession Cycles into images of clocks on bicycles. Etch a tree calendar into a picnic table this summer. Back to Life Back to back to life, back to reality. Opoponax on wax, cuts sharp as an axe. Take off your cloths be naked as worms, jump in. NO DiViNG. No running, no petting, no bombing, no pushing and NO PARKING outside the pool. Health and safety signs in Ted's mind read: No embezzling, no in$ider-trading, no cheating, No smoking. No Double standards and double speak. no touching me. "while the human mind is mobile, so long will the definitions of all our terms vary." said A.C.

Swimming my troubles away, drowning each day. Deadley Leisure Services pulled the plug on me at Brierley Hill Baths. Tryed to drain me away. Couldn't wait to close the place and drain the chlorinated water into the local cannal! They wished they washed me away, but what remain seem only words, to describe each stroke and the awful sniff of the mustardy smell of chlorine. A testament to my protest activity in a swimming baths on new years eve 2005-6. Iron lung flutterfly. Pushing from the past, pulling into the future with each stroke i am now a Chinese written character in ink dot-com bubbles. Cage me now. Freestylz ill be the breath of me, all open and stream of consciousness. Λwake. Dreaming Λwake of the woidllness, the muddle way around the midday puddle puzzle.

Miggledy critickle pathway. Born a dragon in 1976 a full 200 years after the proposition was signed by reptiles. Brotherhood and society, idealism and socialism. lemon and lime in my baby cup. Noding, disnoding. Operation desert storm carried out with unsterilized apparatus as i left school in 1991. Me Drunk and shaking like a leaf. At the ℗olice i-disco bumper to bumper. Bundle weeds blow prayer. YOU alone? i hear something else anyhow, a call in the distance, a song, as holy meme cow. Wildstyle. Scales intermezzo-lock with geometric precision, like astrological houses the music unwinds like a waterfall in Brazil, playing to become self actualized. The other voices? Playing out the vision. "i" bow to Tao here and NOW and Zen again agen. Bow to Mind, bow to body, bow to bowow speech to find Ωhm. No place place. Gone gone like AUM. The Tsar must be impeached whispered the lunatic in the street. And he must be fed to his wolf pack. A sea Merchant takes a lung pull on a roll up beneath his red hood, shaggy trousers stem up from out from earth, no boots in sight. Concentric rings of smoke rise from his phone/wand.

The puppet, and the puppeteer. Me and my crew all got a tattoo saying Statutory Apeshit. The nine, know no fear. Hard, tuff, Teeth of George Washington, Hair of Kool Keith. ☏ you might cat shit. With a copper Aura protecting the flora. Kick out the Jams moth flickers. Me and my brothers and sisters worked our selves into blisters for this life and shampoo. Now we bloom. i got the sauce and the verse noodle, the chrome and the curse, make rhyme tints for the review. Ragoo, shows you how to break through, with just a gym shoe and a tube of glue, Ragoo can make do, and now debut to the ground crew the strength of his home brew, ha ha, Ragoo can renew the word, undue the absurd with a pool cue. Maybe Baby Ragoo can see through the untrue and can subdue the political beef stew that threatens you with Minnesota-style decency. Ragoo helps us pull through the intro-verse and traverse the "Universe" (Let me hear the stars) No taboo, all walls to be walked through, use magic fish stew, Oyster stew, Kangaroo + Ostrich stew. Wholly Chao! Wholly Chao! Rag studied in Timbuktu, got mad knowledge in the bag. Travelled to Kalamazoo to learn Kazoo from Master How Tsu Do. Ragoo rhymes like a walking shoe, traveling soul about the world in my black bamboo earrings, reading, writing, daydreaming, sleep-dreaming, pot-smoking, feeding various neighborhood critters, and playing poker. Ragoo the Queen of hearts Ragoo the Joker. Favorite Student. Fun Uncle. Devil's Advocate. Unwilling Recruit. Far-Out Friend. Maddening Boyfriend. Diplomat. Bureaucrat. Dreamer. But Who's Bob Arctor. The Norathor?

Tone's of bluetooth and Delta blues-harp harmonize under a crescent moon, while somewhere above and below Saturn-tables spin spiral theta patterns of Saturns shimmering rings, somewhere out there somebody staves tonight, they starve for the space program. in a Knu social Knittwork we have a crew that never rests. Tuned in here. Be Mime! A harp chord echoes. Saturn, Titan, Ξuropa, Phoebus, Mars, Sirius. The Tao maybe in the Dung" A Telepathic mycophile microcordinating - said Willy the wit of Wordsley, now how about you, are you rolling in it, well are you? rolling? a worthy Chief Commissioner of your dirty most Brown and polluted sewers that sayers this about? Ate all your prayers. So mote it be. With eggs, Tomato and Ravioli. To deceive both myselfishes to deceive you dear reader? Fly - A false etymology. A deceiving beef steak. My gentle loving and patient reindeer. False etymology to cloth you. After TΞA and a little Spanish Fly. Fly tried on lush brushed leather liberty huts. Bruised blue. While on a peaceful myspice quest to discover the DUNG loving phungus. S/HE can be charged with Possession patient reindeer. The AUM seems here now, in the room. ironically, the law it calls possession a lesson in possession of thought speak for thinking about next weeks MiND fungus meeting at London University campus. Legend has it that you call a priest to excorcise a possession. A lesson: Fly maybe poisonous in high doses, maybe psychedelick (or at least deleriant) in small quantities. ☣

The Lunatic in the street bawls a little more loudly - The new inquisition sucks! blood for oil. The passion fruit of the herbalizer. All chemical agents of evolution. Exotic, spliced and fused like eggs and flour. i dedicate this to you, oh cooking bowl. I guess its the hour. The crucible with lashings of lemon-aid, sesame-seed oil, green olives and water, massaged into your OWN temple. Hemple. Message from Titan: MckLuanna LiVia AnnacoΠDΑ. Annacondoor. The sky opens up and Drums bang like drums bang in the busy street, banged by a rogue band of gypsies for tips to get tipsy turvy. Troops out of irag written on my back. And Please donate to help POPE Bob pay his rent. 100'000 beats to 190 beats per minute, moon smiles and carnival, Fat Tuesday dancing as the wildly bright indians dance with ideogramic magic.

Head nods, more smiles. Questions about who the POPE IS? from some very old looking critters with trolleys and creamy brown soft Caps. Good old folks - frowns and stares. Smiles anyways. Entertainment for the cows, interested in high notes. Troops out of iraq. And Afghan. Drug war. Look! See any mushrooms out yet? Take to the streets, leave school and work. Children shattered with rockets that put money in fucking war industry contractors Pockets. And some of our greatest artists are dying, unable to pay their rent. The love we sent. Watered down culture, down into 74'million products and NO ROYALTiES are paying for the general welfare of the worlds greatest bardic gents. Fly Drumming to help pay the Discordian Popes Rent. Drumming up spirits to surprise sleepers for kicks, for Bob and humanity fun in the streets, nine rhymic patterns in nine, 160 BPM. Chasing ghosts down the street. Multiethnic channels of teletelecommunication fasting the speed of sound seeding downtown with uproar. All along the River watchbanktowers. The water's murmur evokes the voice of my father's father.

Wheats the scale of this scribe! “on Reichter scale of the Youniverse-all vibe. All goon! “Time-scales cracking on the lime skin of a Whale in the well of this rhyme. The Jab of the nib. The Jibe! Tip! A Nip from the nib of a badger.” Ninepins rolling a T’ale out of nine planets. Hitching post scripts of spits from where the sun’s stylus comes down to rest on the spat. Nine tailed fox nose snot. Hunting truths with hand plus knife blade voice. Cutting the Jongleur perceptions angular, aerospice bloom in triangular patterns of the vibe sun and moon. The Rivers seem to be our Thothers, they sure do quench my thirst for a metaphoric burst of flux flow and life source. The whole world word wide named after her. Her, SHE, Amstour.

All women, all blue pearl rivers, all goddesses. Yes. wow. Still suffering in the name of progress, polluted by wars. Even today in 2008 i spot shopping trolley remains littering her veins. No crack commando team to remove grandmothers ailments. Does "GoodGod" clean his own Rivers with his almighty weather cycle life cycle. Only natural we shoot our shit into your local waterways. Oh my sweet brandywine lover. And hoily w☠rs pollute the Tigriss. Only logical progress to colonialism that we use "The natural abundance of soaper-nature" for our own, imperial de∜ices. And continue with our divine will to power, and To double product prices. Double product taxes. Water rates, OiY. Stop that tax. Tariff on imagination. Stop the tax. Contributions to clean water solutions come with poisons. Do our Rivers have pensions? i follow your stench along the watchtower, between the banks.

Watching from my Apolination state. Conservativelϒ the mixed sewage reaches Lions largest River, ‘The River Seven,‘ like a slimyspace sausage of golden syrup. I look horrified at the deadly sinns committed by m☢dern industrial industry. But i have my thought on a leesh. Industry up☢n our naturally abundant channels of beauty, to reflect may mean to be speechless. My thought on a leesh. Most eye seer each daydirty, p☢is☣nou$ to humans and ₤ull of shit. My own skewered gobservation mind you. i rest my case at the stourmouth delta, she speaks for herselves.: Gold en-eye appeared coughing up Jamaican flem'. The tiny weenie-wee object said: “Wetleg, urinnavision: my Sunnydelight, urinnavision bong context where urinvention of Liquid lungwaj turns into runnaway success ripples in a pond, eye Understond; your bodily fluid dynamics have sprung a leak.” The Golden one €yed snake continued – “yourine sample flooded our Urinverse, stop Pissin about and go sear a therapisst.

Look after yourine self OK.” Dripping on seeds during conversation with Golden flow, i said: "i'm a Goldonny chile of torrential water slides, upward fountain of youth; brainwashed by Urine Godziller X-streaming symphonies of Piss Orchestras, Loud special firewire brews of moist Media, through vine.✆ 1984 Wet wear, microchipped passports, trickle treats whizz, wee, Wazz, wet, WaVe, water, wash, wake, wripples. W = World word Psst. The shining water that moves in the streams and Rivers. Maybe not just water. No. But the blood of our ancestors. All ours. i graduated from college with ⁵ A's, ⁵ E's, ² G's, and some K. Blow Stellar regions through your Reedles, this cartridge requires no needles. Only a thought mixed with psalmonds.

Sunstar groove rider. Passion flewer-powered for balance. Precession-guided weapuns of loaf dissolve. Pharomba made of a ether substance. Music as real as music. To Shimmer you, Shiva your inner timbers and then who’s army? Onword to the end of the beginning. Welcome to the Afterfuture. Lift the curse with verse. From your pursuance of Ancient sounds. Your Revolution. Wallis Budge over and let jimmi take over. Jimi jewels of love Juice. The Punch of Jimi's AUM. Gods and dogs talk in CGi animations about Emerald ballets of pure loving. Sex and Ballet waltzing. Make your tongue spit speckled polk dots. Do it for mother of Qool. Rewind yourself for the unwind. 23-12-2003 08:37 P.M Love Supreme theory of Egyptian hyroghettofiction. infinity so listen. Ambient sounds like sacred sentences when tuned in. Miles beyond. Train your self to listen again. Re-aim yourself for the trane-sition. Stellar Regions. Take a Holiday to Cairo, Kathmandu, Chicago and Paris. Take a dead Joplin to Giza. Take it easy Giza. The pyramiddle Earth. We take em easy Star! Aum-Allah Bama. Aum Christ. Aum Buddha. Aum Shiva. Haiwass KA A.A! indialivia Elfinn Johnzinn Elevation Zazen. Pyramids been Capped by ladies in capes. X-women. As we Approach the i-Ching hour of Transformation after tranfoamouthsun. United we Break calendrical spelling. Dream-casting wisdom through musiq. Kicking drums. X Zeus Androlickle was hung on a gate by rusty nails and this still fails to stop TSOG who burned and banned Brunolan making the "Right" choice, This spate of imperialist date rape. Escape the ape body and head for the stars. Past Mars. Where Jukeboxes play cuts of Sun-Ra's ESP disqs. Rejoice (Whispering) Hush. Hush Bush, hush now baby get your milk and suck. Love will find its way into your guts, your liver and kidneys. Hush Bush by loving his tongue. Bite it. Don’t you cry now. its just a meme to an end. its ending. Meditate. Heliopolitan Coke-Nine cartels and powder supreme.

Although the snake does not fly it has caught the bird whose home is in the sky. Meanwhile thrift store Pharmacia services for most U.S people, its Bloody Luna-sea to me. Knives out! So Dj Eye Rock Rack up Stargate coordinates ↑ with Seals and some Leaks bleeding, and "i" piss on Christs leg from behind him on the dance floor. Better wear a peg on your nose as sewage age concern flows free through a Time Crack. Time is a river of passing events--interactive processing--a rushing torrent. Look at Mirror leak vegetable television tonight and watch yourself cracking up in a chair. A jolly great ocean Pissmiss holyday. Drink IZIPHO ZAM. Earth probing machines probe upon "Oil" wells, shafting Gaia. Drilling in broad daylight. Stop. Look. Thief. Stop Chief. Stop. Look. Rape. Cold Murder!

How far do our governments Dicks have to be up our arses until we get GUCT? Awakening! GUCT! Hey moma i hear a new World Coming, around the corner, i see its whiskers, from a far off land it came, its here. Yin the Buginning was the Bird of the Nile, and the Bird was made Fish. Mid-Knight Ultra Horus chorus of clocks. Love: a simple way to save our Children. Jobs at the mall and electronic candy seem handy for randy bosses and power hungry ghostmen. Electronic candy cast into the dance by some remote Tandy store worker from Brum. The Western Lands and take off skyward like a can of Tango. To GO. Ascending. Chrust Crystal at the Controls. Ship made of Snakebricks and apple skin. Magdalene sits on the edge of the sword greasing her marbles.Drink my Sun, drink and be merrymounted, Drink the special filter Naga larger; Rudolphs finest since 23’000 B.C (Before Cronenburg, before Coltrane ) Santa pours old grandads p2pee into pint glasses, Viagra falls of dyed orange cliffwash Ruddy brew my mind, phoamenomenal for looking back and forward. Urineluck. Stick with me now. Sea-wee’d ideas floating around like sewage in Santa's ole’ Tea bag. Real Royal logic. Snort for oil. Realy royal tea maybe piss infused."Laffin all about time she muttered "Rival running overflowin “to-i-let” tracks Stained Golden fleeced string yellow nuclear force furnace. Searching for Equalibrium takin a whazz Sample on vinyl i'm lost somewhere in all that jizzle jazzle pearl mist sister blues. Somewhere in a West coastal urinal.

Sit on the bank of a river and wait: Your enemy's corpse will soon float by. Urinka! i remeber it was the 31st of October, Eye woz Drainin the Lizard drizzla after drinkin the amber nectar. Now i recal making a sure-shank redemption to Sun gods gods of the Guildead Lawn Tennis Asscoiation. Lost my mind and left it, all 12 inches ontop of the bog." "Kiss the beach urinovation. Ready. Aim. Fire in the water! up to your neck in it. Water ship down the James Leg, dribbla. i should have remebered not to whistle. Tellin tale to the whole urinverse, Beware the piss police mindyou. Among uver tangs, Leonido Du Vinshe devil wrote about flow River water, and how flow zeffected flow. By various obstacles in yer' orse row'd tao piths. Who issues it, how? Rekkids set crooked. War and Piss in the streets. Oh Yeah! All wee are saying is just maybe please give peace a chance again. Dance. Drink Sun. And peace 2 ye. Pace 2 yer 2008. Never mind the terrorpuss gush and true lies. Surf the severn bore awake to another gnu-galaxy. Oh my gush i just missed again, weed on the bog floor. Typhoonian pee, i wish the Piss police wd/ get sucked up into a giant water spout. River running clean and free out to the salty ocean on a tranquil amber evening Sunset, And With a Golden Sun set, and a Golden backdrip. Strips of bright blotted Sunlight. Sitting with tea reading Fly Agaric Motifs in the Cú Chulaind Myth Cycle. Breaking down chemical warfare agents possessed by totalitarian lunatics. Mycofiltration. Mycopoetics. Come on now, we have the technology ☂

You know what the Englishman's idea of compromise is? He says, some people say there is a God. Some people say there is no God. The truth probably lies somewhere between these two statements. --W. B Yeats.

DREAM #4. (Dream Time Unknown) 8:12:99 Inside the glorious Temple Hotel at some remote location, somewhere, opposite a long golden-grain beach, Amy was seducing my body and soul very slowly and very sensually, whispers and delicate touching in every conceivable place on my body and around about the hotel. The walls were glowing with light corral pink, floors and walls with pale lime and sky blue gushing. I remember suddenly hearing the news of the biggest storm mankind had ever known before about to strike somewhere. i realized that i was in Australia. i could see a satellite image of some enormous object just off the coast, growing bigger and bigger like a water mark on rice paper.

WORLD PriSS. CHAPTER 5. Total broadband awareness

2008-07-19T02:20:00.000+02:00

Book II.
Chapter V.

"Art is anything you can get away with." --Marshall McLuhan

River banks steer the currents through waterways. in River banks we trust. ℗Rats live in River banks. Willows droop their stuff, stingers aren't really a plant. Revo... precession powered by passion fruit, stranger in a strange land wants to start a marching band and march like black ants through winter windowland, waking critters and walking weed garden dig your pardon plant forgiveness foretelling professional cycles seasons greetings bring light and rain to seeds and saplings strange beings with leaves and nectar amber Rumi gardens love and care with predictive prerogatives of the date timespace place pace of Gaia, seasons change flames into water, baths full of rain water nurture life, pond lyf stock and bond water running ripple dribble snow.

CH'eng.

Cells divide, finns gills and navigation through inebriation bring connexion with environment. Melk Galaxy. Homo sapplyng floating like single electron q-beats: floaters riding a medicinal River down snakeskin streams of healthy clear blood. A vessel to contain memory, a test tube baby. Revolutionary solution baby. Good Luck gates, Stour ports. Nine portals "driving storm" to Butter-table-minster. 1776: Starport "licks". tell no lye, often gauged in a Lye group. Godisturber forged keys for Alternativitea. If you would get ahead, be a bridge. Unlicked lockgates. acrillaqt restraint. Daisy-chain makers arms scaffolded. Luckeygate. Rivers banks have her vested interest, opposite, mimicking every bow, crescent, chicane and curve. Who banks with river banks anymore anymoor. Oh shit Diaper backward spells repaid. Pantherina cokeri Cubensis chillin in the "cubehouse" with esculenta hemibapha frostiana excelsa aestivalis phalloides rubescens velosa vaginata. Nu wyne, urine luck, silk Pyjama people of Kritik-tacky Genus. Harmonic Optical Transformation elves. Lung woids.

Condensed occillating octagon node-points. We're impaled upon out points of view. One douzen notes, all of natures vibrating matter, vegetable digital kindness and do-gooding make, the charge. Feedback, from one another. interacting woid processingsong. Scratching my face, contemplating filling tooth twenty two, next year its gonna be further up River, River rapids dissolve slowly and the rocks repeat like washing machines. Stoned i was smoking Swimming underTOE, looking up holding my nose, trees blurry squinted glosseye frayed glass stream of lights, ouch kicking a bit too wide, frog kick, deep toad breaths, breath flash of blueskytree grain layers of hyperlights, blue rushing waves of light. Ruddy hell i'm miles downstram. ↓ Bubble in sand and silt grains mimic my hand, pebbles dashing a rolling my arms sculling figures eight, breath, breath blue greenhouse sky, with a touch of forest, lungs full of River dust. Medicine, up my nose in my ear she everyweir. River Oils for peace. Goodyear was 04. Steal this face? Give me my book back, Maskbook, Task book, ∄-book, Acid...Macebook, pepper spray and spit from the Ace of face. Come on over to Myspace We're avin' a wimpy Look at my face, i'm upside down Steal my face Come on over to Wiki, No sheep or Vampires, No tags.

Macebook, turning softer now a Laceb∞k, listing all the wonder stuff Rivers, Crisp Mountain landscapes, Trees Wilderness. Even video of these things brings extra FACE Extra Mace to your taste buds, don't it Buddy? Hey Buddy, your my friend, if you leave me, i understand, Maybe for a laugh. Pick your friends wisely, pick your FACE Pick up a paper book, a non-web dew-non net book. Put your FACE in it. Suck. Here Comes G∞glebody And Wiki, Amazon, E-bay. There Goes Tesco, Walmart, Monsanto And 500 Dogs of super-market Earth persuasions. Steal this face, pick myface. Eat my face,

Drink my Faceback, Lick my nose and eyebrows, taste the sweet lasagna. Punch me then, go on, with all your finger strength KaPow me. Woo Hoo me. Send me beer then throw a sheep at my name. Chest bump, headbutt, slam, spam and poke me till Your blue in the Face-Book brother. Yale and Harvard maybe watching So

pick Myfaceb∞k. Lick myface, blow softly on my super wall Answer my questions, Compare my lies, Put yer Face in it. Sniff the screen.
Get Off yer
Faceb∞k.

Todays the day the earth went bloomington. Up in flowers fragrance smoke settles over cityscape. Bl❁❁m went wall street, daisies blooming from bunkers dry Mouths, Stock exchanged for corpsemanure and more. The cents overwhelmingtones. Some shit to grow on. Hope... for the whorticulture. Nations grow sympetalous: when the petalsjoined, wholly Or partly. Children grow hibiscus wings and sail where they like; a Blooming party in the sky, Nobody demanding they 'come down. A day in the secret life of young sapLings unfurled. Buttercups spill out in full banana glory, Breathe in mint magnolia cent. Blooming hell; even the underworld grows grasses today. Listen to the forrest go bl❁❁m, the hills, the valley echoed Growth, nurture, harmony, nectar Spring has sprung into bloomsday not doomsday, You won't find a petal on T.V Just hours of dead flowers; Retribution for the twin towers Wild eyed politicos and their spin sin powers.

Dr. Bl❁❁m ¬ in the room, butter, stroking your violet Ariols. She coming. Come, Again. Multiple organism. Not a moment too soon, toe. king Bloom. Two hearts back2back, teatable action provides a feed back2back control loop loop interface between mutter and mynd in a knu kwantum mechanix in which uncontrollable randomness. Killed him dead with a gun and a bullet Wrong, time, wrong place, wrong zone, wrong town. Freindly fire, oh it burns, friendly fire, When will governments learn, Friendly fire, who needs friends like these, friendly fire, When the enemy is amongst you everyone bleeds, replaced by intentional coherent scratching order, order, or-der.

Running with Humpty. Rivers clean enough to swim in again. Something whispered softly past my ears today, Blew a hole in my brothers head dear baby, its a war everyday, Killed the Captain dead they shot him, right through the crown it was one of our own, oh baby, a mis-indentity. So sew sew sew..The seeds of love. Like the same notes played over and over the same bridge the same river, same bed, same food in my fridge. I'll kiss that bridge when i come to it.

Tokeen Bloem ❍rchids grow up close to Flyfisherman's bait friends. Munts. Today there appears peaceful fl❁wers amongst the war of the Roses. Poppy Fields. Substance D Fields. Treat your pot plants and kudzu and thrill them with water hoses. Enjoy your crop merrily l❁ve your fresh buds, its bloomsday remember Sugar, honey-sauces, Whitman, Blake Gooseberry dreamer. My mistake it's gloomsday already Freddy, grey and fuzzy tuned-out warp squark. According to the television set and match each day i call tombsday, whensday gonna come when everyday can bloomday and night? Bloom greenish yellow through the day and Wake through the red night, Just keep yourself watered keep your rhyme tight Embrace the clear light, love the bulb, turn on bliss, Gr❁w yes. Bloom yes, Doom no. Bloom this, doom no. MF Writing paradise, trying to write paradise, i look ➚ around and everywhere i see bombs. Even underground and ocean. "What ARE we fighting for?. Testing nukes for. Ask Nagasaki's survivors. They know nukes work. Stop. Eye for an eye and were all fookin blind. Deaf and dumbfound land. All we are saying maybe hey, you've got to give peace a chance.

©ouncil Pop will drink itself. Aurapourus. We don't need no education! War huh, good for? Come you masters of war. Come together, get GU©T. in Vietnam the average age was nineteen. in Africa 18 and still younger. 10-11. What going on? No, just say no. Electi☠neering. Bombs over Bagdad. Coded lungwaj logic. New York New York. Send in the clowns. Definitely maybe. Revolution. Battle hymn of the republic. Spunish Star spangled banner. G❍d save the queeg. Napalm death. Blue birds over the white cliffs of dover. Not black meaning bad but black meaning good. A working class hero is something to be. Money money money money, its the root of all evil. Money. Love love love.

Kill your television. if 6 was 9 i'd be slightly poorer. i got two Termteabells and a microfilm. A Love supreme. Luckeygate. Candy man. Rolling and Tumbling, Come on baby do the locomotion breath. Money talks. Like a virgin. Buffalo soldier. Money don't matter tonight. World war iii blues. i went down to the croxxroads. Give the drummer some. Unless we get a little, crazy” – Seal. Barking in a Knu sealed slang “i'm frustrated at funk man” Helplessly Doping her. Do you know flipper and Fungi the Dolphin can Save us. They sing pop music, and click music, blowing the message like Miles' out out louder into the white bleached air from within the water word world. Barkin' like sea dogs about Human chauvinism With two tongues, two throats and three super sonic emitters Dolphin's seem damn clever critters. An Eyeon prison permeates the aired atmosphere wherever they swim. in the end of the end i think they'll win. And they Got Milk making machinery.

"f-e-e-d-b-a-c-k..."

H = - Epilogepi -- Claude Shannon.

Golden chariots blaze acroxx the sky at Sun set. For sale. News arrives left to right black and white print. Castle Bridge of red hash-Brick vs. silver haze of steel, thc crystal Glass muffins. Petrol Station next to an expensive German car showroom next to a ©hurch next to a Snooze Paper office next to a ©hurch next to the Polizeiwache, damn, must escape on my bicycle but the road just leads in Circles. Retreat to le verte collines, Stroll the woods bare foot and starry eyed, Green medicine Criminalized by uptight mostly white honky chaps, huh? Green PETROL stations have all the signs of lying Black shit station. And nations like big black-gold shit stations. Cycling through the L.S.D market i glimpsed the geist of Frank's Trolley. i Cycled in hairy Steven's park and picked Cherie Rosebaud, popped it onto my tongue and awakend to some lost senses. Full Moon around Mary's lake. Ducks perform water rites perfect rote order, i observe Green awe under oak canopy. Feather and tree Foliage both pocketing similar breeze. ❍ak tree silent, Day in day out, quietly Budding a goodness gracious dressed goddess picking yellow daisies sighs in a winter graveyard. Quiet rivers have flowery banks. Clone towns: a new American strip mall. Councillors like Carnivores hunting in packs. Hannibal Rising in parliament, Church and state croxxed like roads Like entangled tree Branches, young sapling Wrestles a Tesco shopping bag blown down an empty road. Strong winds propel the Message, Multi-story skateboard park and Layers of konkrete, liars in property And liars in Law. Liars. Somebody's going into business, competition Commission inquiry so tell me, Trade Union busting, Worldwide Slave wage? Tes©o℗oly Commission impossible?

How can you fully gauge their global iMPACT? Winter blackout electric droughts and climate change, country all skint'd by the illegal War. Got any lamp oil, Jobs? BLEW-BERYYS MY ASS. i saw mushr❍❍ms growing on mars. De vine D'evil D'corked, Double "J" Dee. Axis monday, around 23 degrees ℉oreign height to bludopeSKY rope-a-dupe, umbilicalendar light pipe. Some sanskrit-ching. What you callem' i was busking in my local subway i headlined every night got paid in cash and the whole show was recorded each night free of charge as a demo on CC✟V. To be self indulgent, pathetic, no more idea how to write. Block. Wall. Paint. i busk till dawn. Lazy stoner. Drop out. Slacker. Wish i wuz a painter. Deflated long haired white middle classed exile. Sweating in case i get sprung, in case they find out i can't do the math. Suffering from Cannabis Psychosis. Gov Liars.
About to go nuts and bolts
and berries all over again
again.

Acrillic figure it out yo, just do the Math, figure it out yo yoshi yoshi. Like Hungry Davi.D Thoreau up. Me the math face, X, why? Zee the graph reads "T" that's "T" for time for the Graff' staff. Math of the snow on the flow. On your face! Eh! Universe Contains a MaybΞ. Acid rain guitar moth flickers. Snow like missiles of bass when entering the vessels of the lasagna brotherhood, Rule Rule Rule Lasagna. Do the math in the snow, you'll piss the test! Do the math like the graph, drink the red Bordeaux, who got the flow? (let me hear ya?) SNOW. Who got the flow? (let me hear ya?) SNOW. Who got the flow? Ra Ra Ra! Yush! (let me hear ya?) SNOW. Who can make it cold, hot however you go. Between your eyes on the dance floor at the disco, Eh! Shake it. Eh! Bake it. you put the future tintz of sum in & you milkshake it all about. in concord with number & person. Eh Eh "

Universe contains some gravy. Me crazy flinging lyrics like Tessa Sanderson. With my Snow hammer throw i knock punks down, Yo, i'm even a CEO of a little picture show. it's a long way to tickle Mary. Do the Math, read the graph, switch on. Turn on to the Math Snow TV show your face place. On the case like John Holmes. Comb back your hair and drop the gun slow honey, snows gonna melt your mind down to chemical elements, right clown to your little toe, snow flow gets in between every toe and paints it in the style of Vincent Van Gough, a tidal flow of menstrual snow can defeat an empire in one, two, three, lasagna slings. Tic-tac-toe time me and my nine we got game to play. Come on moth flickers, paint up your game theory, do the math, my rhymes a Graph, a Glyph and a spliff. All that is, is metaphor. For burning snow mathias man, fire and the ice Nine. Time to tell a Tub truth or two. Who's the author?

MONOPOLY Everyware like ©hristmas board-room games. Monopoly on water, air, land and thought. Wee drink Peace for sport. Ghosts of Slaggy Thatcher's Britain. Great became grit. industry sold to Palmer Eldritch. GO GET HOOKED on Kapitalisimus. Here comes E-Bay, Amazon, flare trade and google, everybody together again. Faceback to the singularity. Digital highs and lows. Get hooked on electronic DRUGS! Mental-pathic wrestling matches inn-the-net! Up against the wall Monopolying Motherfuckers. Direct deception delivery services. Who issues it, how? Get a loan, get hooked on consumerism. Get a Good stale corporate Job for a multi-national and help expand the third world war. i pray to the rusting iron-ore Sun set through a cracked looking glass, sand Led and a bitter pint on my heavy maybe mind. Not rioting just wrioting. Making herbal Fli-Tunes for Bob. At peace with Mary Janne. Gordon Brown in Bollywood, B☠sh in Disney world, Bl☠ir playing Tennis With Cliff Richard. Me, i'm down the pub getting pissed and stoned. U.K Lottery economy.

X-factory life. U.S Citizenship lottery. The War lottery. All balls up in the air, have yours Dropped? Get hooked On Urban Shamanism. Big Brother maybe watching YOU His Sister Him the last time i looked. Crime against humanity, crimes Against supernature Tzar's "Faith based" government wishes humanity be Dumb, hooked on sugar meat Fernsehfunk And Koks-Kapitalismus. Drop the "iS" of identity and discover a semantic clarity. Old Angleterre of mud n' bog i love thee so. i love BOG Spirit. Damn, the longer i amaway the more i pinefor Great Britain. S/he hooks me. Get hooked on supermarket nature brands, seed, fruit, bloem under one roof waterfall the rivière and the hills, psychokinetic spores on the air. Mycoremediation of a nation, a Riverruning renewal. And so a lone duck pushes on down rivière. Sovereignty = supermarket-nature, Eglise d'Etat spires interrupt Malvern and Clent hills and the Distant Chinese landsCapes, a Salamander spitting fire on a Dudley coat of arms, forging a head.

Quiet rivers have flowery banks. Fly lekker and feature length thriller, rapped in a false Etymology. Staring red-eyes gaze at other woids. Noise in my sleep in my sleep. Silent but Dudley.Think for yourself, Question authority and question again. Late spring, the clouds bright bright orange Saccharine, Bridges and bicycles transport people in Bombay too. Seeds in a silken suit litter gucting. The clang of bells high atop the steeple, even here in Amsterdam on Tuesday, Dominican Monk' business. A crescent city of philosophers, A painters city reflects the sculptor, Green city urban planning officers, And the girl on my bike i did love her, Amsterdam, city of integration, Europe, collage of roots and new culture, New world belongs to its inhabitants, The artists sure out weigh the militants. Jesuspect Christereotype of spotty face. Pull down thy vanity for sanity. Listen to me! Just LiSTEN to me, crawling contradictionary of woids. Sly Amanita - yr/ the extraterrestgraal. Get over it. Winds March with April Showers to bring to bloom May's flowers. Peace comes of communicaxion. Regicide or a royal flush? Wikipedia culture wiki-Commons, google government Not a House of corpses. A huge democratic theatre to Broadcast yourself! Get Hooked.

Total broadband awareness and blue-tooth democracy NOW! Total information Awareness of awareness, Get Reality Support systems swiftly swiftly. When i think of it? The Government stole mums water, but can there be a holy War? Seal the vision: Don't PUSH the River! What region Borough County district territory Reich nation Union, what neo WORLD Order? Erb drought! Quick Uprising for Easter time up up like Lazarus, Finnegan and Prometheus WiLSON. Up again. Let the wind speak easy now through the bardo. Amplitude and attitude spin around like Karma wheels, Served on a Termteabell platter with a byte of luck. On rotation two records in-finite phase/faze. Slick and time twisted spiral c❁des - logical coordinates. → Grimy with mould, maybe from the effects of storage in dark-dank cupboards where fungus grows? Cutting paths into you-knight and knot tribes and scribes Bards and DJ's and Painters Uknight Mid-knight Spring! New Growth, CELEBRATE Knotted and intertwined cultures and nations feel seasonal vibrations like flowers do. Welcome to the afterfuture furniture restoration bash-shop of grass lawns. Love your parasympathetic nervous system like your parasympathetic sound system system. Study for a Miles Post Hack Doctorate Jockey. Psychosis of Cannabis psychosis and metempsychosis. All blow mist. And the system seems a fraud.

Nature is none other than God in things... Animals and plants are living effects of Nature; Whence all of God is in all things... Think thus, of the sun in the crocus, in the narcissus, in the heliotrope, in the rooster, in the lion. --Giordano Bruno.

15:04: 2000AD: I dreamt i went home to Sourbridge and became very frustrated about money! To fly back home with a girl, and we're looking for somewhere to get it on.
I was trying to find work at a manual job. Bit of a nightmare. 15:04: 2000AD.

WORDy sPISS. CHAPTER 6. Deep in stamfordwoods

2008-07-19T02:08:00.000+02:00

Chapter VI.

"Don't fight forces, use them." --R. Buckminster Fuller.

To End wars start Gnu meditation, feed troops with good stew. Turn gun barrels into flower spouts and shoot your perfume up to the m❍❍n. Morph mortar into poodung pellets and help more flowers grow, you know. More fungus. More Lichen. More exotic speaking among us. Put Coltrane on Television. 19:11:00. Turn your war to the canvass, the medium, a page wall, airforce, style, state. The air, blow it out your assets. As an air biscuit if you still must fight alright! Fighting for peace seems like fisting for Virginity. End wars, bend wars, transcend wars by converting them into white phosphorus poems. Blow up your art, kill your protagonist and take over your gallery space with assault riffles. Set the public free. End wars, bend war's, stop for a bite and some tea. Join me, end the one's which blind and burn and mutilate and really really hurt the human body and mind on man and womenkind. End wars and start parties, kiss cuteas and shake booties, pull down panties and lick and suck for Peace. Build your peace zone, claim the earth space-time temporarily.

Reclaim! Be Merry. Be Mime. Skin harmony with change to spare, re-claim the process process and be ZENarchy type of graph temporality. Don't fight gravity, love levity. Drink mean tea and scoff my muffins. Turn tanks into Termteabells, secret plans into fictional fables. To ∄nd wars declare peace, its over its over again, its all over the place. ∄nd the pain and spend a thought for those poor slain in memory of the lame and sick involved in the thick of it. ∄nd wars by showing that to Kill maybe to loose, You carry that bruise with you, murder is known for eating your brain. Murder seems psychically self defeating, eating the killer, like a Hannibal Lector treat. End wars end by becoming a benefactor of change, a GNU beginning. Again. End wars. The ∄nd.

Juxtaposition without copula. Who wants to be a chinese written character in the end? i Work at the zoo on the planet tralfalmadore where various iconic specimens live inside glass cages waiting for readers to mix the unmixed spectacle with ticked imagination, engage in dreams of being a Chinese written character.

Shaped to mimic natural forms. Spilled forth frothing rabid inside circle of fifths, around about the brick Bridge, through nine looks and around the chainmakers ring road, a neverending story baggins in the middle muggle Westmiddleends amid the Golden Apple Bluetooth fairy ring of fire breathing green salamander gas, raised in dung over aeons. neighbor to Herrafrodo and Worcester. OrgΩne became resurrected, bound within the pages of supernatures magazine. 1958. God this turban. Agacider drunkenpuss purrin' down the sour piss chute. Knee deep in memories. Wading for where the government blows. Deep in stamfordwoods with the diddy squad deep down in the woods at the rope-swing, smokin' fags, drinkin cider acroxx the River we swung, River rats, satanists, boggeymon. Out from behind the tree. Air rushing up my nostrils. Up cavernous pipes and drains we played, right where the housing estate croxxed into motherbramblebrook. Down the cut where i wd Mooney the girls and they'd Moon ey back.

Boyhood droops down from my mouth to my ankles. Red carpet unravels from my gob, have ya come up yet? dow in the sweaty grey underground basement beat scene. beats scene. Puzzled walls of hammerite grey mix sound of Archie Shepp and Mingus, minggling in the coffeegrinds. Stippled moosick crimpled broken ambient mornings after Ecstacy, iz this doin yr head in? Waterfall road to the vine exchange, looks as bluack paint dripping The Birch tree where i used to hang out with a coke and a packet of walkers. Suck Coke! The harvester bell and the swan and the pinns, all pubs clubs toffee soft in my memory.

The Toad voodoo juice, smoke and drink and shoot pool under me guinness eyes. How can today be compared to yesterday? Dark chocolate evenings in a brownstone autumn wonderland. Again i slip back through time, Rolling thunder from heaven Echos Loud through the Bluack mountains, echoed roun Clent hills like a whole county chanting, Wind fanning fire, singing flames chase wood around the forest lungscoops, catcha fire in the head, unwinding a S✴ns love for his mother and Thother and sister and self.

Unwound spring loaded pitch forks ploughing the stuffed clouds then streaking electric purple legs stretch forth, rain water ronnin down her side. My mountain eyes trickle down into lake pl:acid, drowned underneath the shadow of the silent majorities. Sun fire pleasure mountain bluack razzle dazzle flashing forks, one legged thunder enlighening, more fire from her lake. Congealled misty clouds atop misty mountain hats, moisture conducting heavens symphony; electro shock thunder enlighening. Allegro winds wood give sway to spaceship earth, catching the clouds in hemp sails, spring has come to lyf, moving her across a googgly sea; through rain and more thunder, lake placid. Still waters as photograph. Blue green eyes in the water, saltless tears still taste bitter trying to remember. Mountains shadow cast Re:Sun rays caught and reeled in from the wooden memory masts, fire in the heed. Line-ear with a nun-linnen-ear substincture, Fly's wing glistens and does not glisten. Worshiper of chllorophyll, catkins and rolling skins with forests inside.

111 ravens flying overhead, 72 hare's running ahead and 24 hound-dogs at my side, the gills in my neck and a sack of sacred herbs around my waist, a copy of FW in my wallet and a tongue of crystal glass. I come to the Mary Hill Barracks center to sing for the trees' and re-ignite the ancient dialogue between Merry poets at the Merry hill games. With a crown of thorns, Ash, elder berry, Beach, Oak, Willow, Silver Birch, Rowan Berry, and a thousand and one yokes. Sacred Rites of Marriage at Merry Hill between Mary Magdalene and Robin Red-Hood. Go figure and go figure it good.

Be merry now. Oak and Thunder God. Red and white with sacred toads and many odes to Old Annamary-jane The secret of the new name, Dog, Roebuck and Lapwing, protected, guarded from any Secret Corporation of Merry retail rapscallions strike the alphabet with a pitch fork, Thunder Maid Mary Hill and the Mad Dogs of Hell bark. Mary Hill, Upper-class hooker, my true love Light pouring toward Sinceritas. fly agaric boiled in a pot and eaten by titans i'll crack thy bones in our lady's name from inside. The Dogs of Merry Hell. who'll hunt the wren" cries Robin Bobbin Hod. 111 santa clauses to each Christmess sentence.

If the hunter comes back with mushrooms, don't ask him how his hunt was. Meryy Christmass 7 days a week, 360 days a year. mayday is merrier mayday play! Mad merry riddle. If there is noroom upon the hill. Millenium point., Ivory Towers 'Merry Mad Maud." Maid "maud" Marian, Mary Magdalene painted Blue by Merry Pranksters. Mary Mary quite Contrary to you. Mary Gipsy the May bride, a may tree cult, may bee cult! MBC Robin the large singing flamingo red breasted Robin Hood, Calling "Powit Poweet Poweet" echoing through ASDA, Sainsbury Plains, Tesco and Morrisons of a Mary Merry Cult of craftswomen and men, Dancing through trouble doors these troubadours sing "

Mad Merry Mary, the most poorly recorded, yet ill-reputed Of the disciples of Robin Hod Maid Marian and her Merry Mary cult. Maud Marian the market lady of Misrule, Who went over to the dark side with the evil sherif Deserting Robin for his rival. Selling out to the big Merry Corporate Gangsters and the evil Merry Sherif. Mary Merry Mad Maude paired off with Merddin (MERLIN) to become christianized as a male Robin Hood. Merry Mary England, engrossed with MARY worship. Mary Hill a kind of corporate Mary Hell, a place where aggressive corporate dogs pull your mind apart, Displaying jewels, drugs and every kind of classic consumer product All the most popular brands, the biggest most slick corporate brands. May Day, May Day. Merry Hill means an unholy marriage between corporate dogs, A roebuck and a Church carriage. I as Lapwing singing down the walls The dogs of Merry Hell, pulling Santa's Merry sleigh all the way to Merry bank by the Merry Law Courts. A Merry meat market of young Virgin Mary's made up to maybe meet A Joseph and have a little baby Jesus together Soon to become another Merry child sitting Santa's Lap everyday, all day. The comodification of the old market festival and the old merry pagan rites revived here in a queer tale over a brew.

..the alphabet vs. the equation....? ...language as Class Warfare...?

Reverse levers to pull and push the sun earth far words. Talebearing talk, “prattle tattle for the Tim Bing!” Tackle for the tie. Draw. Time for the Tea.” Brewing Ay’ arf’ of the ale. Elixir tea brewed from grey nail. Flyscribble a tale to inscribe the amount of TOTT rhyme you plot? a stale tang of the tea pot up your snooze, vapor-trails from ye’ ole fairy ale blues. The Great GOO’s! Sling a Lizards tail into the JUG with all the thyme you can muster up from the honey-verse. And don’t believe the tales you smear about that ale. Take a slug of the grog of the group. 9.mm beaker glasswill of the scribe.

Tribeena Elixir admixture: the scribe of the ale and the ale of the scribe to raise he up happy and so rosy. A merry ferry bridge for my own merry fair. Robin Hood as i fly agaric fights wars with alphabets. And Merry Hill houses more sponsors of the Bush Blair agenda than any other multiplex in some sense. In the sense that the Sordid combination of Television and other pro-consumer capitalist telecommunications based at the Merry Hill project just happen to have some if not all of the products advertised to virally. Targeting the young and vulnerable. Coercing the weak and ill. Fast food, fast closed circuit CCTV monitors. Like Merry Spies up hidden in the sherwood trees looking down at the Merry shoppers Making sure nobody can ever Recreate the forgotten real Mary rites at Mad Merry Hill. Until nearly 16 years ago when i a child of 16 years young, Triggered the beginning of this reclamation of Merry Hill and the Merry rites of Passage into adulthood, i ingested about 3 grams of psilocybin mushrooms and walked through the Merry Hill Project, chanting incantations and sacred hyms to Mary As i tripped. The resonance from this awakening experience, the opening up of my mind to poetic myths Music, rapping, laughter and celebration or getting high has reached through my life since 1992. Here i am in Amsterdam with a copy of Robert Graves White Goddess and a joint, Ready to anoint Merry Hill with some forgotten history in a way it will not forget.

The Rivers and industry meet, Shopping trollies litter River banks, Banks litter the shopping street. Quiet rivers have flowery banks. Where do you bank the River bank? Order? Cash FLOW. €conomic$ LINES THROUGH IT ALL. And lies. And nature forever bound to lies and untruth. As long as the word-symbol lies. Rivers of industry run orange, blocked by trollies traffic cones and "believe" bars. Trickle down theory turned to treacle brown theory. Planet earth waterwildworld. Many die without clean drinking water. Many die, many killed. Sombunal reborn. Cherish your Rivers, be thankful for your clean water. To Wash away flaky skin and Usury. For renewal and updating flow of Mindustry. Love your bodies of water, as you love your body. Mind the wake, cleanse Nowhares Yacht.

River Arun, Orwell, Avon and Seven. Thames, Mississippi, Tigris, Nile. Rocks old as great great great clocks. Before time She was running nutrition and foodstuffs to us Apes For god sakes. She transported, fructified and washed our tiny machines. Now she's the machine in the steel eye of industry. Her future so bright, so toxic and SO Orange. She runs through your brain, a hydrophobic-ally caged single Electron q-bit. The smallest indivisible unit in language or physics. Clean drinking water appears only bottled. in these times of raging Global fires our Rivers weep, she tells meimposition of order = Escalation of Chaos. Up through the earth, right through the earth from an underground spring she rises unbounded by gravity, clear elixir of life soaking headwater cloaking the rocks sparkling curves of a siren sister, fresh water wyf running back home on a River of laughtears saltless but brought on by seasonal epiphany i join your groove, carving plans over earth years how can this freshness be bought by our money flowing global networks from undervalue to currentsea understand the embankment and investing in renewal rejuvenation of the sacred springs life expectancy preservation of the goddess and of her drewel she's mainly concerned with herself

Swimmers are all surely concerned with the environment, shine not winning 28th jan 06. poverty of imaginashvilleham. Went seeking more family in America and found the luminaught-tearooms at burningham now i'm back i think, back in the woidlye looking for a job. Looking no furthur than Netherlands. And a party after. Soup flie, blackcuntry. Shower i cook up some bacon butties Cup of tea and then i write, read and make music. Thats it for me. i Talk to the dead pig in the sandwhich: Pigasus for Prez of Swineland 68-69 & 08-09? Pigs in Space, pigs in time; in the Chinese year of the pig in 2007' i'll put my pen to the Tusk of taking all pigs to heaven. Napoleon & Old major pigs, Ministry of Pig: 1984! Porky Pigs limbs litter the swine factory floor, Pig as profanity! Pigs as the Police authority, Pig Brother. Animals used as insulting metaphors for humans but Machines, Poisons and sleeping robots rule us? Ass drunk and/or stubborn as a mule like Pigasus parroting the whole dirty Bay of Swine thing, War pigs crawling Begging mercy for their sins - sang Sabbath, But the four legged HOG that the word PiG refers to seems iNNOCENT of all crimes, those leagilly piggily crimes! Just a bristly pink critter! There seems an intricate Telepathic Conspiracy afoot against the animal kingdom.

Choking the Plant Kingdom and supernature, from a human-plants point of view. Orchestrated by humans or machine/Robot/poisoned humans. V' for Vegetable Vendetta. Other than rolling in mud, eating shit and sometimes their own litter (Which makes an illuminating metaphor for modern Arms factory economic practice, invented by Humans), Pigs seem peaceful and intelligent to me, they don't make Nukes, deploy troops or go to Church. The Hippopota-muses lament for their HOG kind Treated like Swine, the pig has become the Animal word used in Western Civilization that reflects the characteristics Of Authority, Uncleanliness, consumerism and greed. Greedy PiG! A poet in solidarity with the lush Miss Piggy, Hogzilla Napoleon, Old Major and pigsy, Wilbur, Professor Strangepork, Picasso, Pigasus and Porky - i hereby swear to clear these Swine of their stereotypical image quickly and their Stereotypical place in human history and knotted Language as Stupid dumb and dirty cheap fodder; useful at Christmas timespace with a little gravy tea to dip my TOE into. Dirty grunting Ugly pigs until Served up With a little Sauce. The pigs will have the last grunt as the year of the pig makes its course. Bakin' under the sun.

What is very little understood about the electronic age is that it angelizes man, disembodies him. Turns him into software. --Marshal McLuhan

DREAM #6. 27/12/00 i was drafted into the airforce and was soon flying in a huge cargo plane over a Massive bay encircled by mountains. Rough seas and sharp peaks gave a cold and desolate air to the view. i was dropped out of the plane without warning, and flew smoothly down into the water, quickly swimming to golden shores and escaping the conscious threat of hungry sharks. While paddling somebody else joined me, but i did not recognize them as being somebody i had met before. Next i was right back home in Britain but on the beach with this terrible panicked feeling in my guts, a panic about getting back again across the Atlantic, back to America. I saw my family and friends briefly at an airport somewhere, i was without a proper ticket it seemed, and then i spotted my airforce captain. i quickly got changed back into my airforce uniform and joined my friend Bob in a de-briefing in which Bob told me he was just pretending to be in the airforce too! He didn't really like the Airforce, or the War, or America really. And wanted out! i was back in an old shipping dock surrounded by huge ship building cranes, storage tankers, aerials and rusty orange barrels and lots of water everywhere, ocean, rain and wind. Faust appeared and i remember then blasting into the air on a barrel and landing some time later in the Ocean water again about a mile out into the bay.

WORLD PISS. CHAPTER 7. PPMX. The shape of things to come.

2008-07-19T01:55:00.000+02:00

Chapter VII.

"The birds flutter in my tree and i think i have heard them saying," Ezra Pound, Cathay.

Blogging PSi Fistory. Tirty RUNO seals for post-terrys tea. Gingerly with licorice if you like. Wild days like Jimmy Calendri× ➚John Calandear-trane. Gump TV, Gunk Bonk Boink TV. Coming with, on your belly. Channel TOE: same old tele. Same Ole lies. Heart-drops. Lost Amber Rum around and under the nose, the swelling noises lift my heart, yes. Barrel head rolling wheels of Samsara sounds, swirl of Dizzy.

Turning waterwheel shovels shaped to scoop the Moon. Tribe-tables direct love. ColtranΞ redirects toward stellar regions. Connecting the dots of the musical Zodiac. Through tunnels. Whirl pools in River s, oceans and natural volcanic springs. Spring shepherds bring bully hot media, De Niro cloaked with Golden lambs wool. And the cow jumped o'er, and came back as cheezeus crystal slices. Ground crabpaste spread on canvas. So kiss me through the looking glass test tube.

32 'nd notes sratched into the melting crystal glass in the Foleybridge Unusual Clay Kitchenette. Mind your own laboratory me mate. Mine your own story jack. Amber he.artdrops limber from my midriff timber trunk slender boink Boink. Mushed me. Where did my thoughts go. What crash, boom now.

Corpses set to banquet, cannibals of Europe are eating their litter. Keep Britain Tidy. Part2 said. Erase pist experience to mic licecrime for the nixt. Paint oview. "Woid gets bjorn" yarrow stalks talk no? consultation fees zero, just throw and the movie begins. Game afoot.

A lung and some L.P's. Waterwheels spinning upon a River most beautiful, finches chatter in branches of birch, Hello! Silver Birch tree. Above a star in Gump TV. Plush never met funki porcini. Sticky honey amber rhym floating past a sleeping audience, you could hear a wind chime, or chatter geese, floating bye. Hydrophobically caged single electron elves. C a g e d words, fossilized p o e m s, equations tranforinto Sereneviews.

K e y s to many homes, email addresses, fast cars and cellars. Honey drops drip drop. Rivers sway their way to sea, sway side to side. Camera pans quickenberry along River stour in this hour of bleed. Mutants R a t s develop their own viruses, to fight polluted environments as kicka-roach. Three quicken trees, garble of nine as one riverus onest even.

Termteabell RE:vo lution.
10'000 turntablists. An army.
Apply Seal/calendar of choice.
Term
Teabell Tales Tales Tales! Apple Logic
Tastetime-c❁de discs. Served upun Tirmteabell of Curryspun/dance.
Oozing blue puss from an early byte of luck.

23lb jars of sauce, or it could be jam or jelly cake? dunno... but the Stuffs being Scaffolded via multitrack audio dialects. The yellow open sauce trickles beyond the boundAries of the physical boundiAries of the Stereoscopic Holographic Prose tools. HP SAUCE. imagined and engineered in swimming pools. Remove the ceiling! arm troopers for Re:volution.

The Militant Prose tools i spew shatter fragments further. GODISTURBER. Shits blown sky high! But the fungus ate it all. No atom left behind, write. Apple L❁gik times Reasun makes astrose t✴✴ls. fli sight equals plug outs. Record, Lightening bolt one-leg just run off with my footnotes. Toenotes.

Cyclopstereo equipment. Monocoli sight so far and
Deep and wide
And knows for sure for sure?

Lynear alphabit single sightednuts often fail to produce broader thinking. No stereo band on the one hand, but single sight gets shit done quicker on the other. Multiple truth. True stereo serum. Pandora's doors swing to be-bop and box jimselves into the vast infinite phase studio Arcane sanskrit-ching. Manipulating faze, pitch n' time further. Frequinox amplitude delay. Stop. Repeat repeat. Polarity of Cannabis Psychosis Tea.

How can we stop it in reality? Police your mind, police your thoughts. Moniter, record, stamp all transactions. Bastards want my soul. Coming up and turning on. Can't read my science fiction in peace. illuminatea party peoples from ALL times and ALL places re:unite in a concrescence of Vibration i say yes, Hear Comes Everyware. Got a tissue.

YES with iNK and Gas deployed upon Semi-circular canals and throughout Riverbanks. A Seed looping on, a river diary, calendar, poem, vinyl mix tape mixed live by hand, over again again. With hands tied. Committed. Cutting and scratching samples.

Foleϒ He$$ Crowley mess mopped up. Oh. Plush. Loop quantum gravy tea. A hearty feast of Apple logik prose pie served on a re:volutionary platter, hot and dripping with whipped cream. The Swiss bank accounts with all the Gehlen loot. A re:birth of logik, reason and aseed looping. DJ Food Pizza on a T'Tble. A Novel.

The K'King when? Kung Fu Tse and Li Po and Tofu. Chuang Tzu all coming for you. Spicetyme wave functions souperimposition. Tzolkien middle earth Way? Sey yes. Middle way earth map puzzles and puddings. 64 tracks/codons/hexagrams. 384 doors to 1586, 1936 and 2016. Coco-creating anaconda-log stereoscopic RiNA DiNA Synthesis. Hierestarry.

Metempsychosis. Aesthetic whispering ghosts. ColTrane effect, holographic prose without powder up my nose. Cash from ©oke goes to ©iA Folk. Fly bandwidth pregnant with novelty. 111. Royally Unified Strawberry mushroom and cream "field" theory, forever and ever. My dreams of a final theory Finnished? re:contextualized, realized and actualized while tripping liquid Miles, Till summer spacetime i'm out, fli-cal!

Flytied to wooden waterwheels. i'm dunked donut on Iraq. The hour of hydro power smells near. Thought Samsara as she put out her next load of wasjing on the green nylon line strung between the house and the garage. Water wheels on Rivers! make them flow and harness Dynamotion. Don't PUSH her. Let her do it in her own way. Help her flow. bodies of water as an unincorporated temporary autonomous zone. Dig my pudon, dropseed. My sword lye' Aisy now sir. Coffin up out yer chamber pot with indjun gypsy jazz playing blind on the phonograph.

Crescent city Bayou disaster reflects our River water. But a levee broke in New Orleans and they had a Hurricane called Katrina. Our River should look different to the ruddy Mississippi or cloudy ganges. The council has ignored as B☠sh ignored. Thus spoke the mouthpiece of the mount, the eagle "she" spoke and said New Orleans has been " Wiped out'. Police and thieves in the street boomed from an SUV parked beneath the concrete underpass.

A bag lady stops for a break to feed the hungry pigeons. Back through the WOiD. The keys to heaven and hell. The bowl of potential. The vessel to wrestle in. The empty vehicle. Like a Vaticancia black hole bank. Beyond blood and flesh, family and country or the company, what expatriot? way out beyond. Snot language with green money talk, gangster talk, bigger stronger more buying power on the market. in the buginuess was the gesture.

The market might be civilizations greatest destructive force. Wisdom grows abundantly around the world. Step out into your Golden crop pasture. Roll in it. Feel the leaves as clothing. Her clothing. Step on. Sacred Cow pies and holy Chao dung produce sheet music stravinsky could dig. For a song that your singing in your head continues ringing in your head. An iCARO that YOU have Sung in dreams seems in your dreams. in the star-clusters of soul nights and last night before bed you see the stairs. A ballad to our ancient ancestors huyumpah moowowoo.

"It is a matter of "rite words in rote order," as Joyce put it.” -- Marshall McLuhan.

Canal renewal project hydropower in the minds of the people. Amber Amrta nectar very much like hot rods in the fireplace. Like hot rods in the last scenes from Total recall. We can remember it whole sale for you, maybe. i' believe i have water-logic on the brain. i dream of the ocean often. i dream of being under-waterlogik most of the time. Even in the dud lye cut.

Where the canal reaches the crow, a cut acroxx the westly mudlands, above and beyond see level. Spirit level skewered in a conservative matter of fact has kept these waterways filthy. Filth and ill'th led to poison chemical dumping and pumping house jams into her winding embankments and his navy paved man made brown waterways.

Home to giant red faced rats and crazy pussy cats, shopping trollies and tossed out doormats reading "welcome". Him and her. 2.4 X-Box's. How can we know their sorrow? slurry we filled you up with industrial waste. i wish industrial light and magic would transform your blood lines into healthy life sustaining blue lines.

Rivers of northern California, oh dears, where i'm pulling soaking memories through a looking glass tube. i can see pebbles and lush shades of shrubbery. Gump TV Bonk Boink. swatched on and on Channel 3: Each time i breath i see mintredwords in the east reaching with their tips to tickle baby blue, sky blu high circus tent, the Late summer floss might catch my glimpse just long enough for a single syllable or a billion billion babbleators from a brown brook. illustrated by a pop-up book. in the distance a Bridge torus' meanwhile.

Gaian life-force particles, tOoh. Its soooo Gai. Hang in the air like music, they support me in my aquatic adventures in orbiting rugs' of persian paisley paste. Orgone. Gloopy water, viscous and full of shit.

i remember the Rivers of california i swam in better than the Rivers in my own home town of stourBridge in waded in a looked at because our River contains ford escorts, rats and extract of industrial light and revolution, flushed from the minds of the people into my immediate existential reality ∄ it makes my memory based on my physical immersion in waste so much richer and more vivid.

Beauti/ful? More memorable timeice comp. submerged inside of a new orgone media, washed from head to toe to brain to the furthest reaches of the known universe in the message. How can today be compared to yesterday? a gloss of the word, looking glass at the absurd, seen to be disbelieved through fli-tunes Avatar berry mutsh, push for another Putsch.

Seal/calendar fly disc jockey. Drum-active determined to plant spores of change. throughout earth and the outer galactic star-systems, or mebbe just help you wake from a slumber. Eye have become spore of the woids. i grow on you. Flow on you. i have tyme for YOU. Please flow with me. Friday 13th October 2006. (Oct 13, 1307) poets rounded up as terrorists. Warrior monk martyrs. Criminals and new espion.age servants of one gods god.

The knights Templar's of Orange marmalade spread upon Vaticancia Kryptoast. What is to be done? Maybe? i'm Cyrillic Agaric - i-Disc/seal Jockey. Okey Dokey. Lets eat Counter-intelligence agents. i-disc full of a secret Agent known as Muscarine: False prophet, destroying angel, a GUCT reactor. Going off with Joy. 22.03.00: Dreaming that same night i managed to retrieve words from the dream. Definite words "TOX-SICK LITERATURE".

(Dream Time Unknown) 9/9/00. Huge sea-rocks and a wide screen ocean of absinthe blue before me. Trembling on the rock. Sea darker, Emerald mint, darker green. Sitting i am streaming tears at the waters edge. Suddenly i was whisked away like a wind to flat arid desert terrain, something else, white sands for hundreds of miles in every direction. No Horizon in sight. Riding inside a car with Bob heading towards some red-rocky outcropping to the right. Before us a small pond which looked black as Texan oil. i dived in only to discover it was seemingly bottomless, with just an oily layer floating on the top, beneath in the pool i found amazing Egyptian/Mayan designs and wonderful vivid pastel colors tiled to the many sides of the room. i had the ability to stay underwater for much longer than usual. A girl was in the water with me to, just floating and communicating with me like a precog'. Then i remembered finding a Chamber just off to the left side of the underwater room. Through a small circular opening a short tunnel led out to another grand ball room that looked liked an inhabited hovel of some old witch/princess with gills and awful tentacles. i couldn't remember if there was any water or not at that moment, this felt like real flying again. The atmosphere seemed to disappear.