God (drifting; collected)

 https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/8158680913636509372/1346711379165356213

Up is the the poem I wrote in Beacon. See it as some prototype for a "small" book in History of Writing. Likely, 5th or 6th. 

*5-7/? would likely be some Sullivan Broca story dealing with warehouses, smuggling, illegal/illicit trade. 


God, again...

God Among the Natives: first appearance of She Who Runs With The Wolves At Night. 

 https://tobedeleted00.blogspot.com/2023/06/god-among-natives.html

God's journey and hallucination. 

https://tobedeleted00.blogspot.com/2023/10/ingredients-precisely.html


All as of January 2025. 


Comments

  1. obvnoMarch 19, 2025 at 11:02 AM

    Fuori dal cazzo di casa.


    Millennial Apocrypha
    ~
    Consider them: Impressionable, entitled, superstitious.

    Children, young people, unlucky adults in search of some greater cause or purpose, conscious or less-than, lift devices to their senses, their eyes where the math & chemistry & culture of thousands of years has become abbreviated simplified and redefined according to the whims of growing, expanding society as it reaches its amorphous hand to collect the doubts of chance where fortune and misfortune alike interpose like weeds in a field, like crops' blind determination to rise up into the maturity of themselves. Include the varied mosaics of neuroanatomy that encourage and discourage, both, empathy and the deliberate vulnerability of brave or thoughtful souls, their commitments to virtue or the rejection thereof: in those cognitive/emotional lattices lay the profound legacy of humans' conflict with humans where it extends from our ascension from primates to an indefinite horizon equally un-reachable and indisputably necessary. 

    College students, dropouts, never-weres populate ques that would prove laughably unthinkable in a computerless world. Full of need and dopamine, in the random chorus of strangers & neighbors in want of 'likes' and subscriptions, some quiet affirmation of their efforts, their beliefs: they are some certain result of a consumerist philosophy carried in the veins of America for decades, generations. And what they exact on the people around them is most wisely judged as choice despite the seemingly endless coercion of Ultra-Wealthy corporations whose fatal, irreversible truth is that of something that has thoroughly exhausted its humanity. Thoughts are plentiful and random; decisions are far closer to the realm of meaningful control. Disputing as much is a curious argument for apathy. Not that control can ever, ever be apprehended from the winds of change and impermanence to its last, concrete proof of self, but that it be regarded as both ebullient and nourishing in its pursuit of human enterprise towards liberating our fragile race from its most poisonous, hazardous urges.

    Consider them.

    And judge.

    Be a pike in the rails you would chance your own fate upon and a doorway to a world worth staying in. There will be no more saviors this year, this century than there were in those preceding it. Bring down your grace & wrath in proportion to your enemies and your sangha without favoritism. Neither the dead nor the forgotten will speak their business here. Go towards the sound of a god you can feel, absorb.




    ****

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Exile & The Kingdom of Gears

Home is where you make it, and nowhere else. It can be invented. It can be found. It can be created, stolen, taken away. Home is where Larry Fiskovitz was going one rainy afternoon, in the year 2034, on a Thursday in August, when the cool, drizzling rain pattered through the sky, splashing onto his crisp, black windbreaker/skicoat and he stood on the corner of Marigold and Broca Avenue, attempting to catch a cab the old-fashioned way: by hailing one out of the casual, constant herd of the rest of the traffic.  Meanwhile, another man by the name of Jerry Ratbaum, a resident of the New Life Center situated in Hammlett New York (formerly Queens) was piloting his "cab"/a 2016 Ford Chrysler with a rebuilt engine and the assorted technological add-ons like advanced gps radar for superior navigation meant to provide the driver (in some--perhaps unkempt, circles, "Captain") with a convenient shorthand in order to collect more passengers, etc. if only the computerized pharma...
Read more

Sapolsky is, in 90s slang, a retard.

                                                          OrbitoPFC                                                              Anterior Cingulate Cortex  Past/Future Mechanism/s                                              Present Recognition; Categorized Thinking Direction/Navigation              Broca's/                                                        Insula /Right Amygdala    ...
Read more

Speaking on behalf of the homeless (poem)

We are not all desperate bottomfeeders to the last.  We count them in our number like any other class of people --  any other.  And we are not all poets, novelists, aspiring filmmakers:  Some of us wouldn't give you a straight answer what  year it is, let alone how that should be significant to the arts.  I, myself, have eaten from garbage cans -- dry things, wrapped in  plastic and not wrapped in plastic, drank flat soda, cold  coffee, the dregs of beer cans, drops left in the corner  of liquor bottles big & small. -- It's not just something  cool they say in movies: the street finds a way inside of you  and its gravity is not undone by accident.  The ones waiting for the accident, demanding it, even, you see them where their souls have become possessed in hysteria, their madmen apocalypse of Christian Martyrdom braced in, fenced in with ubiquitous methamphetamine addiction or vigilantly defending some 20 ft. by 20 ft. squ...
Read more