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Showing posts from August, 2022

Art and the encoding of the universe; technique as underpinning.

  "There is another reality, the genuine one, which we lose sight of. This other reality is always sending us hints, which without art, we can’t receive."   - Bob Dylan The art of music dodges along on the fringes of an established range of notes, sometimes playing faster and looser with the rules than others.  In art, we see the dimensional depth of the universe, life, in the breadth of concepts and ideas presented in not only music, but quality films and pictures. Many artists like Van Gogh, Da Vinci, or even Marianne Werefkin, might try to find one unique aspect to amplify or quest towards, and in that, we see truth, the universe itself, through the filter of someone else's technique, a skill-derived sub-universe, a picture of the reality. Saying of Il Haboul Adelaide Crapsey   "My tent A vapour that The wind dispels and but As dust before the wind am I Myself."   In the Desert

Marcus Aurelius and his attitude toward various kerfluffles. From the Meditations Book Nine.

  "Today I have got out of all trouble, or rather I have cast off all trouble, for it was not outside, but within and in my opinions." *He is bound to accept the universe or suffer through a contrarian opinion within himself.  He believed in a guiding principle to the universe, and could to some extent trust that. "All things are the same, familiar in experience, and ephemeral in time, and worthless in the matter.  Everything now is just as it was in the time of those whom we have buried." "The stone which has been thrown up it is no evil to come down, nor indeed any good to have been carried up. Penetrate towards into men's leading principles, and thou wilt see what judges thou art afraid of, and what kind of judges they are of themselves. All things are changing: and thou thyself art in continuous mutation and in a manner in continuous destruction, and the whole universe, too." * We need not, according to the good emperor, know not fear or anger at b

Journaling: Fumble Vector: Plus Student Loan Forgiveness.

Awoke early.  Crime doesn't rest, neither does the hunter and the huntress, so to the fray.  They are unawares and its easy going most of the morning.....   Up early plotting the Internet Missionary outreach program, which isn't my job, but essentially an uncompensated hobby.  I come up with some good stuff, make a plan, plus make an additional set of agenda items "just in case".  You see, just as we talk about mindfulness, gratitude is like a superpower of the believer, a calming balm even in the roughest waters.  They're in the know, and all it is, we remember the promises of God, our assurance. So much depends on a green truck and a couple of yard cats, as is said, and I watched the two toms, one crossed the yard to harass the other.  He crossed and stopped right in front of the other, mewling, as I say, "like a couple of old hens gossiping about old men". And just as is said, "there are other worlds than these", so to did I work some other

Farouq Moneyshaw.

Farouq Moneyshaw had a problem.  See, he had a thing in a box, he thought hidden, but everyone knew about it.  Over the years, he had dropped stupid hints about it, until at last, he was released from his sandwich chicken prep job, "released from contractual obligations", and his moneycheck was in the sands of time. Just deboning chicken, you know, but somebody at his workstation had did something unsavory and scrawled "GO HOME YE RICH FUKKER", and there he was, having a moment of clarity, smelling the ammonia and chicken blood, a drumstick in his hand and a stupid look on his face. They called her "Garrison" Blair, because she would supposedly do a whole platoon if left her own devices, insatiable, that one. Would she want the box and its precious contents? She massaged his groin and he backed away, as she was saying, "I want that fat monies-check."  She put her cheek against his foot. Her face cheek.  Jowl. And whammo, he had back-stepped into

National Peach Pie Day, National Waffle Day, and a Tarot Pull.

  Not to be confused with International Waffle Day which is in March, I guess that's the difference, babies, and Peach Pie day, giving the harvest sufficient time to up the supply of peaches, and then the day.  Harvest here was months ago, at the large Mcleod Farms in McBee South Carolina.  However, with recent mild weather, there may be a "bumper crop" of good size. Another prognostication, three cards colliding, and this pensive fu**er saying "no marriage is possible", and the Lovers and satisfaction card together.  I actually do have several lady friends with mostly platonic relationships and these are of course, satisfying relationships.   Putting together the three cards, "Im see a lover that I can't really be with, and I'm satisfied." OOOOO Baby. All too fitting for Peach Pie and Waffle day.  But I submit to you to take the Peach Pie filling and pour it over a waffle.

Screenplay: The Goddens Prologue: "The Nun Priest's Tale".

  CURTAIN ON EMPTY DARKENED STAGE. AUDIO(OFF SCREEN), DISPATCHER: “Suspect peeing on statue of General Edie. Request units intervene forthwith. Forty-seven, respond.” “Forty-seven? Are you Ten One Hundred?” “Forty-seven?” “Forty-seven!” A MALE VOICE ON RADIO(in ecstacy): “Yes.” Dispatcher: “Yes?” MALE VOICE: “Oh yes.” Dispatcher: “Forty-seven.” MALE VOICE: “Yes.” Dispatcher: “Forty-seven, respond!” MALE VOICE: “Uhm, right, Dispatch. Responding forthwith.” Sound of car cranking and then speeding off into the distance. Lights come up and a twenty-something blonde comes on stage, shyly smiling. FIN

Photojournal: When Fungi Last in the Dooryard Gloom.

  This camera is a bit hit or miss for me, but I like it well enough.  No real chance to get a really really artistic shot.  Its not up to the strength of my old Canon A540 but its getting its job done. But is it the camera, or the eye?  In other words, should I "learn on it"? We've had several overcast days here, and a few more partly-cloudy days, and a few heavy rains, and here come the mushrooms. Part of the key. It's a Fujifilm camera and I had to buy a new battery, incidentally, a battery that is sized-up for the higher-consumption models that rank more prominently in the product catalog.  Had the same feature in a Nokia phone, a battery designed for a more power-intensive model, and I could go weeks without charging that phone. We can see two qualities of light in these photos, partial-shade and full sun, and the camera does well seemingly on either, save that the white saturates in full sun and obscures details, but such is the way of the eye, too.

Journalized August 22. On the September 6 hearings.

As per Nicole, and we know Nicole is insatiable when it comes to roughing the GOP, Mike Pence might testify at the 1/6 hearings, balanced against concerns of a future presidential bid.  A certain flaccid interest in telling what they have already heard, but a potential showpiece of the showtrial, and still yet, a gaggle of monkeys might fly out of my motherfu**ing a**. She was telling me this, and I was like, "honey, you still got a few pieces of chicken in the bucket."  You know, as per the old Greeks, nature abhors a vacuum, the old pie hole rapidly inhaling and exhaling air and so forth. "She would need all her strength reserves replenished for what I had planned for her." Telling John Thomas all the while, between things, "this is an assault on democracy."  And I was like, "is your shirt still on?"  I was having some kind of mid-coitus cholesterol induced delusion, and then the train and the tunnel and all, and me wearing a 2018 away batting

Gather ye willows and reeds, yon Bradley Pittsburgh.

  Could it be the universe has a message for me? *Centerstage.  The personality multiplied. *Ambition.  He does commerce. The universe gives me The Star and the 10 of Wands, and I see that the universe is basically telling me I'm a star with a lot to offer.  But aren't we all?  Aren't we all now pundits and somewhat expert, in the conversation, in the age of social media? I'm playing an art piece, more contrived and intricate than my usual stuff, an illusion piece inspired by Ron Gonsalve, to be executed in marker by my at a later point(I have no markers; I have to buy some). I released a NASCAR podcast last week and it didn't quite make a splash, but I didn't really promote it, and frankly, its just a hobby. I'll tell you this.   God speaks through the universe.  When I say, "the universe has a message for me", that means God and his created universe is telling me something, he makes the heavens sing, maybe, saying something that sounds like one m

The Modern Prometheus. A King James quoting.

Pastor was on a riff about the people being of one accord, thinking they would upstage God, Himself.  It was a collective Original Sin repeat, man trying to be God, trying to supplant God, further, trying to know and do God-like things. It was Genesis 11, in the King James Only Baptist church.  "Behold, the people is one, and they have all one language; and this they begin to do: and now nothing will be restrained from them, which they have imagined to do." See also. Frankenstein or the Modern Prometheus by Mary Shelley .  Man attempting to create man. Sir Isaac Newton fancied himself a Theologist rather than a scientist. Albert Einstein's equations were within a few years of publication solved and refuted by a Catholic clergy member. "Go to, let us go down, and there, confound their language, that they may not understand one another's speech." Nature looked back at man, ready to perhaps spit or bite out at him, as he presumed and tried to ascend.  Such was

Ron Gonsalve Illusions in Illustration.

  Brilliant Illusions of deceased artist Ron Gonsalve.

Tarot reading Nine of Wands. "Sentry"

  "[Moses was] choosing rather to suffer affliction with the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season..."  -Hebrews 11:25 King James Version

Poem: The Sky Lizard. A tale of Diligence and Gratitude.

The winged serpent alit from the sky down from the sky to dusky firmament perched and snorted and deposited its eggs beneath a hill. The near villagers polished the eggs fearful, as the Good Book says. From the edge of the heavens' tabletop the Sky Lizard watched, and picked at its massive sharp teeth. Diligence done is gratitude won, after all.

Post Supermoon Journal.

Dignity and solemnity, hath a life, dignity and solemnity, myself of the sub-sunrise false-dawn quietude running a string trimmer, pondering doing a comedy routine, sacrificing my mind to varying threads, threads of varying length and substance. Thanks in part to caffeine and deranged thinking, I yield up to strange dreams for a few days, and digestive kerfluffle thanks to eating a candy bar, which does me no good, though I love it so.  In the same way one might have a binge of something, a great glut, I had Cruellers, a cookie dough and strawberry dessert and some other, to wit, the candy bar.  It took unto me a bit of malaise to have weeks in treats in only a few days time. I was due in no part to meditate on malaise, not a malaise on my own making, but a hard instant resolve to never have that again, aversion and avoidance then, in the face of moderation. Strange dreams opposite the Aug 13 Supermoon, on the 14th, early morning, and though I could peg caffeine as the instrument, ther

a room with a view of venus

"They" postulate that a winged serpent came from the sky, with great jackflap wings, and laid its eggs beneath a hillside.  It was thought the rulers and priesthood were aided by extraterrestrials, but yet others postulate a seeding of genes that would suggest those classes of people were aliens themselves.  Such an "out of this world" notion may be unthinkable to many, but yet may explain innate knowledge, gene coding errors,  ceremonial carvings that look like astronaut garb, and the masses of human sacrifices on elevations.  Indeed, it was thought human sacrifice was an attempt to get the attention of stellar "gods" above.  Older ideas proclaim that the sacrificed were a kind of gift or offatory ceremony dedicated to the gods, but might those have been an attempt to precipitate enough calamity to draw stellar beings?

"I still write your name in the sand." About Nicole, Nero and some comic books.

I was reading Two-Fisted Tales, sitting there, and having a beverage betwixt the forays and all and such and so forth.  And I said to myself, "shit." I literally said, "shit." It had all just reminded me of the time Nicole went to One Police Plaza to check up on a report, but not for her journalism, for her own interest back at the farm, where she had been accosted by Comancheros one day while she was out in her frock collecting the day's eggie-wegs. And they had sent Percy Ledbetter from State B.I., with the "freshly-trimmed" hair line, where it was suspected he got in front of a mirror before his shift and nicked and trimmed on it. But Nicole's outraged, violenced maidenhead. And at One p.p. they gave her, in the vernacular, "dickfist", as if to say, I wanted something to shoot at, but like Michael Corleone, there was a probably he wouldn't have the pistola coming out the bathroom, but instead his penis in his hand. A penis in the h

a screenplay beginning. The Goddens Family Arms.

  CURTAIN ON EMPTY DARKENED STAGE. AUDIO(OFF SCREEN), DISPATCHER: “Suspect peeing on statue of General Edie. Request units intervene forthwith. Forty-seven, respond.” “Forty-seven? Are you Ten One Hundred?” “Forty-seven?” “Forty-seven!” A MALE VOICE ON RADIO(in ecstacy): “Yes.” Dispatcher: “Yes?” MALE VOICE: “Oh yes.” Dispatcher: “Forty-seven.” MALE VOICE: “Yes.” Dispatcher: “Forty-seven, respond!” MALE VOICE: “Uhm, right, Dispatch. Responding forthwith.” Lights come up and a twenty-something blonde comes on stage, shyly smiling.

Faith is a supernatural force.

I hinted early at something of the supernatural, something like a little piece of God that might reside with each of us, an inheritance, but not a superior part, but a shadow of the Father, a shading of the Master. Lucifer was said to be important at one time among God's ethereal underlings, until he sought to challenge God and take over dominance of all. Of course, he was defeated, but is said to monkey with us still today. But of our supernatural power, we are "the righteousness of God", as faith finds favor for the believer, and of course, we love Him, because He first loved us.  Paul says of the early church not only that there were roles in the church, but that there were different spiritual gifts distributed among the believers, like healing or the interpretation of tongues. In today's vernacular, some are called or anointed to preach or pastor, but what of the other gifts?  Have these been lost? I note also, that to heal and cast out demons, Christ himself said

Yhwh and the god of marcus aurelius

The chief of the various gods of Marcus Aurelius bears a peculiar similarity to YHWH the God of Israel in the sense that He is the guiding principle of the universe, and both He and the universe is deemed "good" or providential by the believers. Its is purely a function of faith, as the faithless or weaker in faith proclaim an indifferent universe.  Such as the modern man of science, but that wasnt always so.   As the old emperor tells himself in his journal, essentially, either the universe is ruled by a just god, or it is all set in random, but he had faith in the chief of his cadre of gods, which was a sort of father figure analog to the Hebrew YHWH, whom is basically the bearer of that name today, "GOD", as of from the German translations of the Bible, "GOTT".   Isaac Newton styled himself primarily as a theologian, and the man who "fixed" Einstein's relativity equations, proving the universe's expansion, was an ordained minister and

Poem: The Tower Holds Sway Over All, not the Red King as was told.

Did you know from whence I came, on what ashen dromedary, and it what discordant spray? They say, "who made thee?!, who made thee?!" Perhaps some things come to pass all of their own volition, too strange to exist in the imagination, too bright for the real world. The Inner Guard at pains for their supper, and slipping to the Daily Mirror; the a large three ring binder for the comms, and memorizing capitals. The good outside force recovered three maidens from the somewhere, somewhere between here and there, thought to be spoil from the outer rim. Concubines and fodder, going through their bags, tin foil, glitter, bubble gum. Trexler, cavorting. Trexler, as unknowing as ever. Spray of curl. He took a woman, a kind of whore, one of the street, and to the hospital with him after he tried Heroin with her, a hot dose, but along the way,  in a thoroughfare dusky and bare, he found a another of that species "woman", and moved to Scotland. Demille was always good for fun. H

mirror glass darkly: William Blake's Songs of Innocence.

One half of the "Songs of Innocence and Experience" re-package done by William Blake himself for his patrons, Innocence stands at one of those things that looks at some of the best things in life, like a mother's soothing voice, home, green grass, and so forth. He mentions "rest" several times, perhaps reflecting the weariness of William Blake at being a poet and printer, having designed and hand-painted his own prints.  Weariness comes, printing small runs of copy to sell to basically friends and supporters.  It's not as broad as having an Etsy store or an Ebay pop-up, and otherwise, without major publisher support, artists even today are lost in the noise. But, of Innocence. "On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me: 'Pipe a song about a lamb!' Blake does, including the Lamb in this volume on Innocence, a true majestic soft-spoken counterpoint to the later Experience masterpiece, "The Tyger". "Little Lamb, who made t

NASCAR: Michigan is a "bull ring".

With chassis issues ironed-out so far mid-season, it looks like this Michigan race is gonna be a test of cornering under the throttle. Quite a few drivers, even the self-styled "best"(Kyle Busch) has had issues when getting back on the throttle with the wheel turned.  I've known this bane in simulations, particularly with the first V8 road course car I jumped on. The trick has been maybe feathering the throttle, but that too might be a kerfluffle waiting to happened at this Michigan "bull ring". The only hope is that any crashes don't precipitate injuries, especially with Kurt Busch still on the shelf from a kerflopple.  That in itself has precipitated Ty Gibbs getting some Cup experience, though, and it all seems to have worked-out well for the fans, in the end. But here's hoping Kyle Busch a full-recovery and clearance to get back in his Monster Energy car. McDowell is pushing hard to make Top 10's even after penalties, and it looks like the team h

Photojournal: the Magnolia bud.

  Not a great camera, but monkeying around with it today gave me a feel for its capabilities.  In the parlance of old school print cameras, I was "burning film". But I got a few good shots of things around the place, and a potentially marketable one that I withheld on the SD card. This Magnolia bud.  How about that?  Think there's a seed in there?  There are a few sprouts from this particular tree.  It only stands 7 ft tall and is about 45 years old, while its sibling is huge and the leaves are a different color.  Light and soil conditions, though on the same property, are vastly different.  This one somehow spawned about 8 offspring, of which I wanted to pot them and sell them, but ethical concerns got in the way.  

Movie: Beyond the Darkness/Buio Omega. A few not so carefully-selected remarks.

  And here you were thinking real porn was for real degenerates, whereas the impetus towards filmed sex acts as rather..... dare I say.... human. Probably there was porn as long as there was cameras, old deriggables-type of Margaret Ann pullling up her bloomers or opening her corset, but here is Buio Omega, or "Beyond the Darkness" procured in Severin film livery for the princely sum of $9.12. I should have bought almost three thousand of them at that price, me an Elon Musk or Jay-Z of the blog world, a wealth of ideas if not of money. Perturbation is something that comes to us all, and the fuse is as they say, "readily at hand". Joe D'Amato's effects masterpiece, known perhaps for its tricky camera angles and so forth than any real heroics, and certainly not known for its story, a sister-loving taxidermist, and his sister, competing for his full affections, for a dead lady. It's the Fulci effect, that the story is asinine, but the effects shot sells the

Movie Idea: Dogfather's Pizza and Muffler Shop/Counterpoint to the prior music video

  Dearest K.  I still admire your portrait, even from the deepest gloom of my prison cell.  It's helped me get over, many a night, my love. I know I have your heart, no matter where you may go. "And many miles to go.  Many miles to go." I had thought that you all would camp out on the living room floor watching Shrek 3 or Black Panther or Spiderman Far From Home.  I don't know what's right.  I get Netflix here.  The guards chuckle about the 15 thousand dollar bill that the institution gets for our entertainment, but we're otherwise a very dullardish people, you understand. Musta been a bad time to smell the rain to be in love. I do drugs with the girl that I'm talking about I burn Escalades in the night. I'm in county and I can't get out, my heart is hers and there can't be no doubt. I'm sure you and the little dears passed out into unconsciousness with the 10000 BTU spitting ice and the movie just getting good, Flash hitting the multiverse

On acclaim and economy.

  To be admired is to be remembered by the plurality, but in maintaining our own sanity, we so often have to disregard the plurality that it all seems so much vanity and wind-slapping.  So we must let that be for another day, to have the esteem of people about which we could give less than a care. For today, we have family and friends, concentric circles, nested lists, sorted and unsorted, fools of a different stripe, and fools of our common stripe, people that if they were mad, they have my or our kind of madness. These and not much else. To have their love is enough, and I say, would I also have their respect along with the accompanying bother of the offing? The bigger you are, the more prodigious the shadow; the more it takes to sustain you.  Why else do you think the ascetics talked of having small thinly bodies?  They wished to take little, spend not so much time and treasure on diet. As of the 112-year-old woman in the old USSR who ate her porridge and sausage link every morning.

IGA Love: A short video idea, with music. Call it maybe a, I don't know, "music video".

Fatfish, in folding chair with guitar, singing out: "But it musta been a bad time..." Passersby glance dubiously at Fatfish, not knowing what to make of the odd little leprechaun man with the guitar singing oldies. Mirror glass doors, the sliding doors of the store.  This time with reflective coating, which helps to spurn heat. C7 chord on piano. quarter notes, around a 140 bpm. F, Bb, C. Chunk on it. On: Doors sliding open. We're suddenly following behind a young fattish woman, in pajama pants, tee shirt, bedroom shoes. She's walking in, and her bedroom shoes are flopping. Her ass jiggles somewhat. Raison' d'etre. Ranch dressing.  To hand. Spray cheese.  To hand. King Vitamin.  To hand. Can of Monster Java.  To hand. Trailer add-on laundry room, old rotty ply wood, old washer and dryer. Vocal: "I smell the rain, smell the rain, smell the rain..."  It kind of descends with a guitar counter-point. Cop drives up in cruiser, gets out slow, hands on hips