The UK governement announced today a shock measure to restore people's confidence in themselves.
"The Banks have given us a stark lesson in self-castration" said Alistair Darling at a hastily assembled press conference "so we've decided to save ourselves a lot of money and give £5,000 to every man, woman and child irrespective of wealth, job status or legal recognition as a UK citizen."
The £300bn reappropriation - which represents approximately 20% of the UK median wage - signals recognition by the government that the fundamentals of the economy are shifting and in ways too unpredictable and complex for one government or sector of sperm-bloated irresponsibility to decide on its own. It is hoped that by diffusing the bailout in a series of lump sum grants the decision will help shift the economy onto a footing that people would rather see it go.
"For too long we've been behoven to a bunch of public school schisters deciding the fate of humanity. It's time for a squeeze of economic democracy" Darling added, himself squeezing Gordon Brown's knee.
As well as extended binges, mass polo matches and clumsy street parties, the decision is seen as a test of whether people really knows what's good for them.
"Everyone knows the UK public is brainwashed to the eyeballs on a daily diet of talent contests and bullshit propogated by the overly paid and morally destitute. What we're interested in seeing is if people cast off the shackles and work together to forge a society that is a little more human and a little less grimy" A leading psychiologist noted before ripping off a lab coat, shitting in his hand and smearing "You've no self knowledge" on a nearby Mercedes.
Optimism has reached the UK from south west France where a similar scheme was launched to bribe people into not voting for far-right leader Jean-Marie LePenn. "We took it hook, line and sinker" said Jacques LeFruit "alzo' instead of spending money ourselve we combine in a mighty collective way and invest in projets de communites."
Much of this, M. LeFruit describes went into the highly successful Marechal Petain appreciation society with the slogan "Les 68ards ne savent pas de quelle cote leurs baguettes sont beurres" therefore conflating two episodes of history into a single prescient political point. "It was a great example of somezing people really want to see and most important it come from ze people."
Humanist optimists on this side of the Channel are hoping for savings and loan trusts, rural commerce and indigenous welfare to thrive.
"Yeah, we're all for an Indigens revival. Never the same since they broke up in the 70s" said Spinal Pete amongst the wafts of a fan shirt that hadn't been washed since then either.
Not surprisingly Darling's announcement caused a storm in the Commons, with several MPs astonished at the diminuation of centralised control. A refutation to which Gordon Brown was scornfully smug "I've spent a lot time telling the public that no one knows how to spend their money better than me. Besides, we've undereducated folk for long enough now that they understand that collective voluntary actions are the stuff of tooth fairy idealism and can never really actually happen."
Nevertheless, a poster campaign encouraging community investment will see the soon-to-be-not Prime Minister winking from a thousand 30 foot blilboards "Remember your schools!"
Other initiatives belied the government's professed faith in the will of the People. "What we're trying to avoid," boomed Alistair Darling from the loud speaker of a helicopter specially comissioned to fly over middle and lower England "is that people think that this money is in any way enough. For goodness sake, do not stop working, drinking or ignoring each other five days of the week "your Economy has never needed you more than now!"
A bout of non-descript warbling could be heard from the direction of Hazel Blears until the fascist Terrier was scissor kicked in the jaw by a protestor now flush with legal expenses.
hallelujah for the shopping mall generation.
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=iP17undSOek
how did they screw up this song while possessing a puppet with such a technically good voice. and what are all the theatrical hand gestures about... and when it kicks in with the hollow metallic backing the less said the better and then when you thought it couldn't grate any more the "judges" - who are they by the way?- chime in with the real perfomance, but the crew cut van dam wannabe got it right "unbelievable.." i agree, and so here it is, hallelejah for the shopping mall generation. perhaps a nice spin off from this competition could be credit cards that spontaneously burst into scratchy renditions of this song every time the card is swiped in a shop cash register, at which point streamers could explode from behind the till where upon the shop assistant bursts into tears flinging her arms up in the air yes you've done it, you are a customer. the satisfied customer leaves, the process only to be repeated with the next customer though it won't take away from the effect of it all. shopping malls as government approved rock n roll... bring it on.
... i guess the only good that can have come out of this is that leonard will be living it up for a while to come on the royalties... have a good one leonard, for us all...
*
i guess it's only fair to include a decent cover of the song for the sake of comparison and to restore some kind of hope in our fellow man... so here it is, a beauty, and you even get the feeling that he really does mean it, one guy and his guitar, beating out the notes of his heart, r.i.p. dream brother... http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=0wxj0B7vsss .
that x factor sl*t to sales has the same dazed look of incomprehension that a lottery winner has, a millionaire on who wants to be a millionaire (see http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=HsW_WfJCYy8 , it's hard not to be drawn in as she takes her bows, the hysteria, the insane justice handed out by, in fact of a number of clips that could have been chosen this one topped the list because the ritual makes more sense in a foreign language, we all secretly want to be a millionare, don't we? and here's another in english equally absurd when you consider it in reality, http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=tAmCYTvfJjU&feature=related)... but seriously, why even write these things, why even bring them back into the mind, these more than obvious comparisons, why, well, so that we don't forget what is what.
someone else said it better :
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xRkA6zugNMQ&feature=related .
its something that never ceases to amaze. the usa, a world power. perhaps the greatest world power owes its position to one act. in the mid 1940s the us airforce dropped two atomic bombs on highly populated urban areas. fact. tens of thousands were instantly killed. fact. hundreds of thousands died on cancers in the coming years. fact. this was a war crime. fact. this was a crime against humanity. fact. very little in the usa has changed since then. fact. the usa owes its position of world dominance to its massive arsenal of weaponary. fact. the usa still is currently engaged in an illegal war - already death count on civilians totals over 1million in iraq alone - in order to gain control of oil supplies. fact. the us administration showed itself to arogant in the face of this - re: Greenspan "I am saddened that it is politically inconvenient to acknowledge what everyone knows: the Iraq war is largely about oil"... Greenspan seems to suggest that he is saddened merely because it is politically inconvenient to say thus.
The administrations changed hands last week with hugs and kisses and big camera smiles. fact. the two party system is the usa is a joke. fact. one party differs from another only in their packaging and so many people are taken in by this stage play that it is still working. already the crimes of the last administration are being forgotten and put to rest. we must not allow this to happen. oh but with all this depression and me not being able to go out and buy things i dont need i havent got time to think about these things, anyway, what does it matter? who cares. who gives a store credit card for those lives lost? not i. i stand with the powerful. i believe whats easiest to believe. i want nothing more than to spend the next decades of my life swallowing experiences like micorwave meals and to buy spend and be happy watching MTV and BBC news when nothing else is on the watch box and i want more than i have already and i want to be happier than i've ever been and i want to spend my free time in a mall browsing through lines of garments i know were made by our slave labour forces but they're cheap and so i can forget or not think about those people - who are they anyway to complain, they're lucky we gave them jobs and freed them from their subsistence living... -and i want to come home and browse the internet shopping sites and load up virtual shopping carts while i wait for a meal to cook itself in the microwave and have stuff delivered to my front door and i want to go and watch plastic models in a thousand different versions of the same film on the weekends in the cinemas and i want to get a tingling feeling when we win again in the movie and the arab terrorists are blown up and shot down (payback for our boys in iraq) and murdered again and again for my consumption and for all of us cause it makes me feel a part of something bigger and better than i can buy - yet at least cause one day i might win the lottery and then i'd really be happy, real happy with a swimming pool and a house maybe in L.A. and i could see the stars in coffee shops where i'd drink starbucks but paris hilton would be there and i could just go the premiers of the movies and then i'd be happy all photographed on that red carpet, i could be a star, i could be in the movies, if maybe i just had some plastic surgery first, then i'd look better, then i'd look right, then i'd be happy, but till then i'm happy anyway cause why should i not be happy and why shouldnt i have what i want?...
and in the time it took you to read that some poeple would have died of thirst lacking water, people died of starvation, suffered in the sweat shops or looked forlorn at a clock on some factory wall and thought only 10 hours to go now and someone would have just been destroyed by a bomb and a mother lost a child and brother lost a sister or wedding party evaporated in the blast of a bomb and diseases we know how to cure has taken more lives and it continues but really, it's a price we can afford to pay so that we, so that i, can walk aimless following the glowing adverts with their plastic models around the galleries of a town sized mall and finally be on the road to happiness.
new initiates for the cult of finance,
new initiates into the cult of finance, see here, just learning some of the ritual customs of the religious practice of the Economy.
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=S_uzYhmVIMg&feature=related .
the actions, behaviours and the blind faith of the majority in the market system, in economic theology, and the cults that it habours can more easily be understood when it is seen as a religious activity. the economy is all knowing. the economy can be benevolent but if not properly attended to with the necessary ritual sacrifices of human and natural resources then it can be wrathful as well. what the market gave it can take away. however whatever claims of injustice that can be made by non-believers the market system does encompass all that is good. even democracy, we are told by the high priests of the market and politics, requires a free market type system in place to be able to function. choice. choice is what the gods of the market give us. one thing that can help this transition to democratic rule, particularly in the vulnerable and developing world, is the acceptance of multi-national corporations as missionary-type gifts from the democratic world to bring jobs and new material wealth to groups of people who can only truly be understood as undeveloped savages practising unspeakable rituals such subsistence living. of course in return for the saving graces of the market system the necessary sacrifices will have to be made, such as the handing over of valuable natural resources to the free market whose distribution will be overseen by the high priests of the market for only they can truly understand where those resources are most needed.
there are certain difficulties of course. but, with a properly grounded faith these can be over come. just as the seeming contradictions of the christian faith - such as an all knowing all powerful all benevolent god - can be over come through faith or by simply ignoring them, so too can we over come certain contradictions in the messages of economic theology. for instance the seeming contradiction that the market system requires perfect information to operate while a great deal of time money and resources are used by many of the high priests to propegate false and misleading information. this seeming contradiction can be over come by trusting that the high priests understand what's best for their congragations. in fact only a novice in the religion would be capable of even perceiving this as a contradiction and many a charlatan has been caught out thus. for instance, this misinformation (which in other less advanced religions would be called lying) is often a means to boost consumption, which benefits the markets and so in turn benefits us all through its growth and the trickle down kindnesses it will in the future bestow on the faithful.
choice. while many other lesser religions lack a sense of choice our new market based religion offers us choice in such abundance that we can barely know where to start spending the tokens of faith that the market has bestowed on us. while christianity had one bible, now, in the new religion we have an almost infinite number of bibles which the believer can tailor to their own spiritual and physical requirements. however, the wisdom of the high priests is such that no matter what doctrine of faith any particular believer takes into their hearts, to live by, the fundamental message contained within the doctrine will be identical. so the real choice is whether or not to believe. but fortunately for the would be believer the high priests continually parade their material wealth in their day to day lives to show how greatly the market rewards its faithful followers. also, there is a very large part of the public flow of information (much of which is actually misinformation of course but only for the benefit of the markets and so can be seen as a positive in its outcome rather than deception or bait) that focuses its attentions on the details of the lives of the materially wealthy serves to reinforce the ideology of more is better and money - the trinkets our new religion, is the route to happiness.
even today in these dark times of depression, caused by a lack of credit and consumption, we can see that although some of the high priests made mistakes of judgement and many lesser people around the world will suffer greatly for this, that suffering is good and will help to cleanse us for the next coming of the great Boom and Bubble. For we had sinned and so we must accept the penance. Yes, houses will be repossessed and returned to the banks and mortgage lenders and will not be resold until the high priests in their wisdom think it fit.
And although it may seem to a novice in this religion that the cause and therefore the blame lies at the doors of the high priests (who still live in their palaces) this would be a mistake for although they did gamble the monies of those they lead with what may seem to an uninitiated on-looker a wreckless abandon it is their congragations that must suffer for the high priests were only acting in good faith trying to appease the great forces of the markets - and not only for themselves for see how they suffer each day in their work, but for us, for all people that they too, with enough faith, may benefit from the great market.
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=S_uzYhmVIMg&feature=related .
the actions, behaviours and the blind faith of the majority in the market system, in economic theology, and the cults that it habours can more easily be understood when it is seen as a religious activity. the economy is all knowing. the economy can be benevolent but if not properly attended to with the necessary ritual sacrifices of human and natural resources then it can be wrathful as well. what the market gave it can take away. however whatever claims of injustice that can be made by non-believers the market system does encompass all that is good. even democracy, we are told by the high priests of the market and politics, requires a free market type system in place to be able to function. choice. choice is what the gods of the market give us. one thing that can help this transition to democratic rule, particularly in the vulnerable and developing world, is the acceptance of multi-national corporations as missionary-type gifts from the democratic world to bring jobs and new material wealth to groups of people who can only truly be understood as undeveloped savages practising unspeakable rituals such subsistence living. of course in return for the saving graces of the market system the necessary sacrifices will have to be made, such as the handing over of valuable natural resources to the free market whose distribution will be overseen by the high priests of the market for only they can truly understand where those resources are most needed.
there are certain difficulties of course. but, with a properly grounded faith these can be over come. just as the seeming contradictions of the christian faith - such as an all knowing all powerful all benevolent god - can be over come through faith or by simply ignoring them, so too can we over come certain contradictions in the messages of economic theology. for instance the seeming contradiction that the market system requires perfect information to operate while a great deal of time money and resources are used by many of the high priests to propegate false and misleading information. this seeming contradiction can be over come by trusting that the high priests understand what's best for their congragations. in fact only a novice in the religion would be capable of even perceiving this as a contradiction and many a charlatan has been caught out thus. for instance, this misinformation (which in other less advanced religions would be called lying) is often a means to boost consumption, which benefits the markets and so in turn benefits us all through its growth and the trickle down kindnesses it will in the future bestow on the faithful.
choice. while many other lesser religions lack a sense of choice our new market based religion offers us choice in such abundance that we can barely know where to start spending the tokens of faith that the market has bestowed on us. while christianity had one bible, now, in the new religion we have an almost infinite number of bibles which the believer can tailor to their own spiritual and physical requirements. however, the wisdom of the high priests is such that no matter what doctrine of faith any particular believer takes into their hearts, to live by, the fundamental message contained within the doctrine will be identical. so the real choice is whether or not to believe. but fortunately for the would be believer the high priests continually parade their material wealth in their day to day lives to show how greatly the market rewards its faithful followers. also, there is a very large part of the public flow of information (much of which is actually misinformation of course but only for the benefit of the markets and so can be seen as a positive in its outcome rather than deception or bait) that focuses its attentions on the details of the lives of the materially wealthy serves to reinforce the ideology of more is better and money - the trinkets our new religion, is the route to happiness.
even today in these dark times of depression, caused by a lack of credit and consumption, we can see that although some of the high priests made mistakes of judgement and many lesser people around the world will suffer greatly for this, that suffering is good and will help to cleanse us for the next coming of the great Boom and Bubble. For we had sinned and so we must accept the penance. Yes, houses will be repossessed and returned to the banks and mortgage lenders and will not be resold until the high priests in their wisdom think it fit.
And although it may seem to a novice in this religion that the cause and therefore the blame lies at the doors of the high priests (who still live in their palaces) this would be a mistake for although they did gamble the monies of those they lead with what may seem to an uninitiated on-looker a wreckless abandon it is their congragations that must suffer for the high priests were only acting in good faith trying to appease the great forces of the markets - and not only for themselves for see how they suffer each day in their work, but for us, for all people that they too, with enough faith, may benefit from the great market.
at the races... c/o : hector "hollywood" swanson.
who'd have backed
the horse
no{t} one body
for sure
but i did :
and saw through
wild/wide eyes/surprised
my very own
ho{pes} rse rise
to take the late{st}
hedge alive.
*
hector "hollywood" swanson - at the races.
the horse
no{t} one body
for sure
but i did :
and saw through
wild/wide eyes/surprised
my very own
ho{pes} rse rise
to take the late{st}
hedge alive.
*
hector "hollywood" swanson - at the races.
a toast in the ten bells., brick lane london.
A Toast in the Ten Bells…to the beautiful Bedouin bohemian, bedding down shaking up & shacking up where ever all things allow, for its only a ride, while behind the silent cinema of those eyes is an eternal spring-time blossoming for this sojourn-dancing until the darkness claps like rolling thunder, deep beneath the tracks that the camel train of our lives glides like liquid lightning down and all along every instant moment,.. and so raise a cup for the Bedouin beaux-homme, and drain the red nectar and swig the drink to your own health, may peace be with you, warm heart light feet, pinning all hopes on a luck away fly high draw of the cards or roll of a dice then once the wager is too kind its heading for another no bother its outcome my Bedouin friends that fall like stars from the bars between hours whether its moon-gazing or navel gazing there’s always a story for the spring time that lies hidden behind the silent cinema of those beautifully watching eyes..,
*
*
haikus from hesq.,
The Blinkered Working Horse
A horse grown restless
Behind his half drawn shutters
Shakes his white deity.
***
And Revolution
There is always one
Drop in every cloud that will call
Its final
Shot and hurtle its dissent.
***
Tiananmen Square
In Tiananmen Square
A tank stopped and the whole
World watched it there.
***
hesq.,
shadow puppetry... c/o : his story...
The fascist shadow is the waste-product of the pre-meditated explosion of an atomic bomb. This shadow can also been seen lurking beneath the skirts of crimes against humanity and is often brutal, vicious and is never to be trusted.
beautiful illustrations c/o : Colin McAllister...
"the tip of the iceburg"... Colin McAllister.
"the business of war"... Colin McAllister.in terms of viewing these we advice you to click on the images in order to see their fantastical detail better. for more illustrations from Colin McAllister please visit http://www.snublic.com/ .
Enjoy.
GO GIRL POWER...there's something strangely compelling about skateboarding mannequins...in fact it could almost be the spice girls...
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=mNWYqs-p1Gk
c/o : of our eyes on the ground in pradaland... many thanks for this demonstration you space cadets.
Welcome to President Barack "Mulligan" Obama... artwork c/o Edwin Lue-Shing...
so, two schools of thought.either the two party politics of the USA is doomed because both political parties are in fact backed financially by the same groups of people with the same interests made especially plausible given the margin between election campaign "war chests" and profits in the private sector (the total of obama's campaign "war chest" came in at around $600 million, a not impossible figure for a successful wall street firm to be paying out even annually.!..). this argument is only made stronger when one considers that obama and his PR gurus saw it fit to deceive the public with regards to where his finance came from. they certainly suggested that his finances were mostly derived from small donors (we were led to believe that his financial support came from straw chewing buck toothed never understood politics before he showed them the light types...). by small donors we are talking $200 and less. however, now that, post election, his financial backing has become a little clearer it appears that only 26% of his financial backers donated $200 or less; compared with 25% of the former President Bush's support in 2004. This can only leave us wondering as to why the whole deliberate and highly tuned sharade of deception (with regards to his fincancial support) took place at all. the obvious answer is : to deceive the audience and present a false image of the man in order to help him become the president elect. well, barack "mulligan" obama, even those in this school of thought will no doubt want to be believing your strong words about change though you seem to have got off on the wrong foot by deceiving your voters right from the start.
so we come to the second school of thought. barack is the next best thing to jesus and is a triumph for the civil rights movement (this is hard to deny given that the blacks in the USA - land of freedom... - were only given the vote after the violent struggles of the 1960s and before).
and to his credit obama hasn't overtly used his colour to divert attention (though he refered to it repeatedly in his inauguration speech) from the real issues. For this we should credit him.
so, we wait barack "mulligan" obama, to see whether you will be a president we'd like to do again...
so here are the written words that accompany the image (above) sent to us by Edwin Leu-Shing : "Well as they say a "picture can say a thousand words”, what can be said about Mr:Obama that hasn’t already been said? Well what led me to paint his portrait was he simply inspired me! When I heard him speak it was like he was speaking directly to me (this I believe this is his secret to him winning), there was something sincere and heartfelt in what he had to say as well as giving hope to the disaffected and hopeless of the world. And the other thing about him being mixed race, being half and half and not been black (this being said by black people than white, that’s personally speaking!).Well being mixed race myself, I believe he has a unique perspective of being from a mixed background as he can see both sides of the fence. He reminded me of a mix of Martin Luther King Jr. and a JFK in his deliveries of speeches and presentations. His visit to Berlin was a sign that Europe, NO the rest of world is ready for a change! I try to capture his essence and power of an leader speaking to the Janitor,housewife,factory owner,office worker, student and to the C.e.o’s of the world, saying what ever we need and want ,we can get there as united people of the world…….Yes we can! "
*
For Barack Obama, c/o : Cocoa Tea...
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=Zxn9jhypHfo .
(also if that got your attention, the editorial staff at gonzo media can further suggest that you see cocoa tea's cautionary theme tune for phaedophiles, "18 and over" ... http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=dqRQBBcpLzU&feature=related . )
the big lebowski... the short version... (a lesson in script writing c/o the Cohen brothers)
linked to the following post on gonzo media archives.,
http://gonzotext.blogspot.com/2009/01/f-word-co-hst.html (educational material).
diary of an unborn writer #14. c/o : Si Arjuna.
The crunch, the crash, the confusing fusing chaos of it, the shift, the anxious wait for a clue to see way of the fall.Beautiful.The collapsing uncertainty of it.I couldn't have known a meltdown would be so joyful. I love it. Pillars and monuments of tumbling. Dare we breathe to consider them in freefall?
Absolutely should.
Helps you enjoy the scrabbling, the laughable noise out of every politicians welping mouth that they know what they're doing. How seriously they can knot their brow this time when the worst case scenario grew a cousin that stank and heaved and hurled worse than its relative.
Dear times. Good times. Rollercoaster reasoning is required. So please read and follow carefully.
It's not that we're in a new world, just that our uncertainty is now cripplingly exposed, I heard a sage say recently .
The stock market, credit and bank collapse is irresolvable precisely because it is a systemic shift in the way people use and understand money.
There's been a sleeper sickness threatening unbridled capitalism for a long time. In the rush to manipulate the consumer the Big Boys gave usa lot of freedom, make them think they were making the decisions all the while mocking the perceived freedom with new brands and banana stands, more complex and absurd manipulations of What We value and What Is True.
The Spectacular Society had set in and thinking folk decried the sleep walk towards inauthenticity that humanity seemed destined to take.
Sorry was taking and just at saturation point opened up it's cruel devices and deception to the 17/20ths of the global population who hitherto thought they were missing out on the party.~~~Can we talk in this way about such serious macroendokaledeidoscopic issues?
Doesn't miss the gravity, this hap-clappy narrative, spilling its theorems in irresponsible fashion?
Might not someone get hurt?~~~But the free-walking people in their slumber began to wake up and breathed God Damn It!They remembered those far off coloured days - the 60s - that thing their parents talked about and completely forgot about - apart from at $240 occasions when they got to see the Rolling Stones and remembered, smugly, what good times they had had.
Dear people, the lost began to find themselves! They shoehorned their choices towards wooly jumpers, vinyl recordings of Django Reinhardt and sang the songs of sweet freedom in appartment huddles in the manner of their forefathers all the while stepping the line of happy oppression. So unknowing but now beginning to know.
More importantly (seriously now) they began to buy organic food and fair trade clothes. Fig leaves in their significance but vital signs of the silent shift going on underneath.The consumer had grown up, started tying their purchases to the concerns of people and planet and damn it, the workers started waking up too.But not in a romantic revolutionary way.
Silently. Quiet steps and unspeaking. Making choices so loud The Banana Farmers had to listen.And here it starts coming together.
The workers with their choices were fleeing the Big Boys Without Morals forcing the Big Boys to change, far more substantially than many of The Shouting Young Bretheren of the Outside dared admit.But how to turn back to authenticity in a system designed to perpetuate illusion? The Magpie Greedy Cathedral Bankers forcing us to look up, up and away from dear Mother Earth and out to the ever widening sky, that could not be filled, only polluted with wilder imaginations about how the Flying Trough Eaters could be decieved into flying a little higher, a little more uncertainly and more reliant on The Great Cathedral Builders to guide them safely home (which, by the way, they'd long forgotten, so successfully had the Greedy Magpie Cathedral Builders carried out their work)*
Answer to the question way at the beginning of the previois paragraph: you can't!
So hallowed had the Cathedral Halls become and so well tended to perform their purpose that they could not permit suggestion of the outside - an Untainted Earth or Unpolluted Sky. The Cathedral was designed to cater for both, give no hint that the others could be true.
But some had discovered and it was only a matter of time before the corridors began to shatter.
And they're shattering now, even as their hymns are most shrilly being sung.You see now how the 'Crisis' cannot be understood in current academic terms?
Because the folk who wrote the rulebook never lifted their heads from the pew bench and realised what they were praying about, praying for.
The confusion's becoming unsewn.And thank Fuck for that.It'll come back again, settle amid the chaos again. Fall in furrows and hallways more suited to our time and custom until those too become obsolete and discarded** through a similarly chaotic chaos.
The time we're brewing up is not the conclusion of 400 years of market trade but MILLENIA, Aeons, since the ancient sands of Babylon when Man looked at the Earth and didn;t see a Mother or look at brother and didn't see his own frality gloried before him.We forgot.But what bliss to remember.*
Sorry by the way for the mixed up terminology. I am trying so hard to be academic.** Schumpeter, by the way, when describing Creative Destruction was mis-taken for sermonising on the prayer of capitalism. He was referring to none other than the failing of static concepts in ever-shifting time sands. Clever man.
to see more : http://doauw.blogspot.com/2009/01/diary-of-unborn-writer-14.html
The Perenial Summer - the only cocktail thats guaranteed to make you feel "cubist"...... c/o L.W.R... (little white rhaj...)
the perenial summer...
Ingredients :
50 ml . Dark Rum.
6 - 8 Red Grapes.
1 teaspoon Brown Sugar.
1/2 Fresh Lime.
8 Good Leaves of Fresh Mint.
Generous Splash of Apple Juice.
Method :
Muddle the grapes, fresh mint leaves and brown sugar in the base of mixer. Once muddled squeeze one half of fresh lime into mixer. Add a good splash of Apple Juice. Add a double shot of dark rum. Shake with ice cubes. Strain into Martini glass filled with crushed ice. Garnish with slice of Lime and Mint Leaves.
(For a Tall perenial summer add soda water...)
Instructions for Use :
Repeat Process until you feel "cubist" ...
Enjoy.
You heard it here first... c/o : the Little White Rhaj...
naughty jazz fun., c/o : tori amos...
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=xm3HAfHukEM&feature=PlayList&p=9B26D62734E56AB1&index=30&playnext=19&playnext_from=PL
and it seems only fair to add this beauty : http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=adJ_Ptg4chU
love it or leave it.
and it seems only fair to add this beauty : http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=adJ_Ptg4chU
love it or leave it.
notes on the poet's heart.
the poet practises a secret art, hidden deep within his groins, a world of lucid dreams and magical spells cast to no one but himself and that last final patron his friend in those long nights on empty streets the moon; and she, that moon, moves every drop of blood in him as she swings about on her orbits of the skies, transfixes his eyes to stare bleary drunk the whole world disposed to every word that he springs from the well of the soul out to the silent unhearing air but what can it matter if noone hears or he never writes down those lines that have his spine all a singing and all a tingle-jangling self obsessed half the time and cold stinging sober longing for the release of her giant orbit all the rest...
the poet speaks in codes and encriptions, and always i'm sure in his deepest confessions fears nothing more than the breaking of that code, for what use could his encription machine be then if its meanings and noise were ringing loud down those peaceful moonlit streets cluttered up in the bars and dukeboxes and whores and lepars of society... what use would it all be then?
sad truth dear poet it would be a great use and the world would rock happier on the tragedies of life's seas for knowing the mystic language you yourself taught your pen to speak, but for you it would be over, for you only death awaits now, only release into the orbits of invisible sky.
The 2nd Intallment of the Cumcumber Man., c/o : Grant Oddoye.
**3
Right at their most intimate moment a swarthy little man approached. One might presume that his eccentric eyes and bucktoothed grin might make him ugly, but they did not. They only added to his presence and mystique. His disheveled hair flowed, quite neatly, around the contours of his face, and with a slight stoop and hunch, he began his discourse. “Does the good Sir or Lady require any hot beverages?” he bellowed – the tone of his voice akin to that of a mating bullfrog.
“No” the lady replied, the sternness in her voice quite evident and eminently commanding “but I would like a cucumber sandwich.”
“No cucumber here m’ lady I’m afraid, but we do have some lovely smoked sausage sandwiches, perhaps a little smoked salmon if the lady would care for something a bit lighter on the palate and…”
“Enough!” the mullet laden gentleman proclaimed, slamming his palm down vigorously on the banister “there will be no talk of smoked sausage in this house!”
“Very good Sir” the swarthy butler replied, staggering slightly from his obvious inebriation “the good Sir hath spoken” and with that he about turned and waddled on his merry way, quite unaware of the gentleman’s state of agitation.
A small can of hairspray was now dancing around the distinguished gentleman’s head, furnishing his quasi-autonomous Jeri curl with lashings of nourishing goodness, and the lady was now fidgeting with her handbag strap. She was trying to hide her heightened state of arousal; it was the rampant sheen of it. That magnificent mane of stately prowess and honor engulfed her – it overwhelmed her. She could hold onto her confession no longer as she stated “I know now why they call you El Cucumber Grande…” to be continued
**4
The cool moonlight now shone into the half-lit room, illuminating the figures and paraphernalia alike – it’s presence at once cold and distant, full of knowledge. The gentleman proceeded to step back from the banister and to slump into a nearby armchair, causing the surrounding candles to flicker and the floorboards to reverberate. The lady slowly stirred her drink, the ice cubes tinkling gently against the glass. She moved gracefully towards the window and stopped suddenly, gazing out into the expansive night sky.
“I wonder where it all began, and where it all ends” she said softly, her tone now eerie and wistful “but I don’t suppose we’ll ever know”, and with that she stared into the darkness, her dress brushing lightly against the windowsill. “A man once told me that what lies beyond the stars is locked deep within our imagination, if only we care to look…”
“I too met that man” a muted voice echoed from the armchair “but he not only told me… he showed me.”
The candles flickered out. A great coldness descended upon the room, and time seemed to stand still. The man’s eyes closed shut, and as they did his mind became both open and translucent – the membrane between his consciousness and the vast unknown removed. A dark tunnel through the fabric of space and time curved right and forwards, following his mind’s eye, decorated with mystical colors and a spider’s web of light. The subtle music of the universe played to guide his path through his dreams, all the while the destination undetermined and unimportant. He could make out the woman’s voice faintly in the distance, and a spiral staircase pointing downwards and backwards. He followed his vision onwards in perpetual motion, his current dimension simultaneously contracting and expanding. A pulsating neutron star caught his attention, and the rhythm of it’s radiation awoke him.
“I know now what I must do” he stated “I must go back” to be continued
Right at their most intimate moment a swarthy little man approached. One might presume that his eccentric eyes and bucktoothed grin might make him ugly, but they did not. They only added to his presence and mystique. His disheveled hair flowed, quite neatly, around the contours of his face, and with a slight stoop and hunch, he began his discourse. “Does the good Sir or Lady require any hot beverages?” he bellowed – the tone of his voice akin to that of a mating bullfrog.
“No” the lady replied, the sternness in her voice quite evident and eminently commanding “but I would like a cucumber sandwich.”
“No cucumber here m’ lady I’m afraid, but we do have some lovely smoked sausage sandwiches, perhaps a little smoked salmon if the lady would care for something a bit lighter on the palate and…”
“Enough!” the mullet laden gentleman proclaimed, slamming his palm down vigorously on the banister “there will be no talk of smoked sausage in this house!”
“Very good Sir” the swarthy butler replied, staggering slightly from his obvious inebriation “the good Sir hath spoken” and with that he about turned and waddled on his merry way, quite unaware of the gentleman’s state of agitation.
A small can of hairspray was now dancing around the distinguished gentleman’s head, furnishing his quasi-autonomous Jeri curl with lashings of nourishing goodness, and the lady was now fidgeting with her handbag strap. She was trying to hide her heightened state of arousal; it was the rampant sheen of it. That magnificent mane of stately prowess and honor engulfed her – it overwhelmed her. She could hold onto her confession no longer as she stated “I know now why they call you El Cucumber Grande…” to be continued
**4
The cool moonlight now shone into the half-lit room, illuminating the figures and paraphernalia alike – it’s presence at once cold and distant, full of knowledge. The gentleman proceeded to step back from the banister and to slump into a nearby armchair, causing the surrounding candles to flicker and the floorboards to reverberate. The lady slowly stirred her drink, the ice cubes tinkling gently against the glass. She moved gracefully towards the window and stopped suddenly, gazing out into the expansive night sky.
“I wonder where it all began, and where it all ends” she said softly, her tone now eerie and wistful “but I don’t suppose we’ll ever know”, and with that she stared into the darkness, her dress brushing lightly against the windowsill. “A man once told me that what lies beyond the stars is locked deep within our imagination, if only we care to look…”
“I too met that man” a muted voice echoed from the armchair “but he not only told me… he showed me.”
The candles flickered out. A great coldness descended upon the room, and time seemed to stand still. The man’s eyes closed shut, and as they did his mind became both open and translucent – the membrane between his consciousness and the vast unknown removed. A dark tunnel through the fabric of space and time curved right and forwards, following his mind’s eye, decorated with mystical colors and a spider’s web of light. The subtle music of the universe played to guide his path through his dreams, all the while the destination undetermined and unimportant. He could make out the woman’s voice faintly in the distance, and a spiral staircase pointing downwards and backwards. He followed his vision onwards in perpetual motion, his current dimension simultaneously contracting and expanding. A pulsating neutron star caught his attention, and the rhythm of it’s radiation awoke him.
“I know now what I must do” he stated “I must go back” to be continued
NEWS FLASH : ITS OFFICIAL, IGGY POP IS DEAD IN THE WATER.
OBITUARY -IGGY POP IS DEAD.Iggy Pop struck off artistic role call forever...
who would have believed it ? iggy pop skipped the draft in pretty extreme ways but it's happened., he has recently been trying to sell us insurance policies... the day the music died...
this is tragedy, true turn-coat tragedy., has the recession really hit us all that hard., unless he has an astronomical tax debt to repay, there's no getting round it, Iggy Pop is Dead.
the artist that brought us "passenger",
let this be his tomb stone : http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=ZzO8cBSw9zg . and if it doesn't move you tears to see how that strange great man has died a death then its heartless you are...
May god rest your soul sweet pioneer; as long standing fans, we will miss you here at the gonzo media archives...
bukowski on poetry...
charles bukowski monologue on poetry... poetry should be like a "good hot beer shit...nothing to analyse nothing to say its just done..."http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=r1e5Jeh2Fk0
on people., "the further away i am from the human race the better i feel... i don't like their roses..."
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=MHRcKjvX1xE&feature=related
what is there to say about the man?...
well, i think that we would like to think of the man as being a tortured soul, but i doubt he really was. more likely it was the rest of us that he too often tortured with a truth that we didn't always want to hear...
long live the words of charles bukowski.
something for the new year., take up hockney rhyming slang...
something for the new year., a strange tribute to the grand benefits of the internet... we are proud to invite you to view the conception of hockney rhyming slang...
http://theflowfieldunity.com/2009/01/11/hockney-rhyming-slang/#comments .
enjoy.
http://theflowfieldunity.com/2009/01/11/hockney-rhyming-slang/#comments .
enjoy.
Pete Wylde of the Conflict Diamonds...
So we just found this site :Glasgow based Pete Wylde., member of the conflict diamonds., here playing solo :
enjoy.
girl in gaza...
by now most of the words that can be said have been said, most of the hopes that can be hoped have been hoped, most of the motives seem to be known and most of the perpetrators are clear to see - on both sides... and so nothing remains then but a vacuum, a black hole into which we sling our phrases and actions again and again; but not quite for there are people in that vacuum, living feeling hoping dreams to grow up and be a doctor or a teacher or a musician or a fireman or a clown, or just to grow up and live yes live in some kind of unimagined yet life and who owns what land which god said what to who really doesn't figure all that much in the mind of a ten year old as the flash of bomb or shell or mortar explodes and in that last blind white light moment its scared and pain she feels.stop the bombs.
memory fails us but...
memory fails us as to whether we have put this up before, if not, we should have, if we have, it's worth a second airing... a beautiful strange scene with perspective...
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=mKoV1yJnqAI&feature=related .
you just never know who you're going to meet...
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=mKoV1yJnqAI&feature=related .
you just never know who you're going to meet...
reports from the news desk # 1., - marks of the stigmata.,
Is the Anorexic not the true Ascetic of competitive capitalism ?Like the ascetics of the Ganges who wander naked ?
Unconscious & Insane Acts of penance to remind the rest of their guilt and complicity.
*
*
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To view the Hesq News Desk see : http://www.hesqnewsdesk.blogspot.com/ .
apple. c/o : hesq.,
A Pembrokeshire Proverb.—‘Eat an apple on going to bed, And you'll keep the doctor from earning his bread.’ [1866]
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