Friday, December 19, 2014

What the ()hole-y HELL was then? That. I meant that. Then.

5:20 2 hits
5:40 1 more(comma) to be sure :)
(Editors note: sometime around 10pm one more for good (the best) measure)

I pictured two old rednecks battling a cyclone to get the rabbit ears up to get five minutes of entertainment for the ungrateful fucking kids on their respective trailers and across a whole bunch of trailer park we just locked eyes and realised we are doing the exact same thing at the exact second. And it is the knowledge that that could be a physical occurrence in real life that could in fact lead someone down their own rabbit hole of meaning and beyondingness whatever .... That process of signification is beautiful. Perfectly lossless. Perfect objective subjectification.
Diagonal, and isomorphic

Mandalas are amazing telemetry tools for tracking time within no space. Get your bearings quick, lads and get going no time to spare with the chit chat, you only had eternity to check the map and that's gone and wasted eh? WHAT DO WE DO NOW, DEAR GOD, we are out of control with this power.

the infinite eternal

 balances us in time.

Thinking about time allows us to orient ourselves within time.

Wherever our subjectives polar-temporometrically oppose our objective....shit you can't help but helplessly and haphazardly spray all this garbage off into the void if you even once try and contain this thing. All manner of vile shite inside :) pandoras box a literal place you can hop inside, take for a spin like the fucking police box, always bigger inside than out.
The police box is a metaphor for balancing space within time.
Time within space.
The eternal balancing.

You don't even need to activist! when you figure out nature has got US ON LOCK, I could walk out in to traffic but nature says no let's think about death for a while you won't want to go ANYwhere. I could eat a baby pig but some deep down nature says NO and I live that animals death as long as it's meat is inside me.
Nature isn't the stuff outside but the stuff inside. And its(TIME) WAVE is cross-contaminating and Ebola viralling COLLAPSING YOUR SPACE PARTICLE.

All life is a desperate grab at any of this power that evaporates eternally down the drain. BEFORE IT GETS THERE, WHICH IS DUMB EVEN TO SAY!! BECAUSE IT WAS

Pressing the ART button gives immediate results in the form of a possibly quantifiable feedback(happiness+love?=reason?=logos?=gnosis=hypersygnimbyosis trying to smash ALL THE WORDS
I can (can I?) keep this going until my body dies and beyond. If I'm not aware of death I can't orient myself with regards to its spatiotemporality. Death is the inability to rationalise
We are not rational.
We are rationalising
Death is the inability to rationalise
this experience within the signified OR signifier's framework.

The haptic void is that which will totalise all noise into experience
The burst beat is a time synchronized marker to orient yourself in space. Who's space? Fuck if I know.

Mine and yours together, guess we did know after all.

Drugs flew by banging on my cosmic antenna until I figured out there was a problem, found out drugs aren't the problem: it is where I put that antenna, that it is getting in the way of all the drugs flying by. Move antenna x^4 degrees counterlatitudinally six steps from front door(any front door), west facing under the light of the 3rd waning moon, attempt. If same results sans drugs, repeat most expediently repeatable experiment.

Resounding success. Despite the fireworks and grumbling.


Oscar's obsession with the overturning wordplay vis a vis thingamajig doohickey thingamabob flibbertigibbet et al.  I'm only just now 32 years old and realising he is repeating the same TYPE of thing as a mantra over and over in every context and capacity, filling every signifier with his own and all of our signifieds all at once, in order, to auto-orient himself in time space. Without the need for teaching, hence unschooling. Without a teacher. Autodidactic.
Gaussian Diagonal post-acceleration says lay there and embrace the curve. For it knows from whence it is going. By the time he is my age he will be 32 squared years further advanced than we are at his age.

Blue does not represent peace but sterility. Red does not represent violence but righteous action
All things signified are emptied of signification. Into death put a period on that motherfucker and stick it in the mailbox, return to sender. Thanks DICK I mean dad I mean god I mean uh I mean uh...

Ya know what would be a motherfucker of a head trip for the cops? If every last one of us went out in the streets together and committed mass suicide and left them all alone in this scary shit.

You bet your ass they'd be scrambling for the togetherness and meaning and significance of unity when they are out herding nothing into nowhere for nobody, rapture-in-reverse style. And suddenly realising it.

We are gonna solve this fucking case if it kills us.

One could never know. Or always know, I haven't figured out all the knobs on this thing yet but IT DOES SOME REAL RAD TRICKS DOOD. There is some research going on at hellish levels
and I will hip you all as soon as I can remember where I spaced my time-brain.
People trying to use our subjective frequency-myth-generator to empirically mark out a pattern beyond time, map and key and compass combined so that all of us can get there. -All- the patterns are real, blablabla hippie shit x Just breathe, the universe, believe it or not, has probably thought I was going somewhere clever there but that's it. Pffft.

Monday, December 1, 2014

Short Cuts and Good Omens

There is a word hidden or trapped between three or four other words, of course it's mushroom-related...glistening gIyphosate glycemia my tongue halts/want to carve the sound out, the articulation grinds against a spongy wall that can be pushed in a bit but thoughtwave bends and erupts as it pushes too hard against the barrier, ugly oscillation and perception goes....weird. Blinking static, tracking error.
Anyway. The word...describes a trailing, dripping, ectophantasmic, ectoplasmic, electrochemical, diaphanous multidimensional hyperconnection to a geological unconsciousness that forms during psilocybin trials. Maybe(?), etymologically(?), a portmanteau of Glyph and glissando?

"Evolution did not end with us growing opposable thumbs. You do know that, right?"

It was like a donut, but in an exploded-diagram form, bisected crossed sliced and separated, hovering glowing, maybe 4 feet tall and on its side upright like a wheel, smaller cuts taken from all sides/insides. Strange geometric patterns and forms (maybe 20 or 30 though this number often changed) excised cleanly and glowing a few inches out from their respective holes. Actually, scratch the donut reference. Maybe it was overly simplistic to think of that because of the ease with which one could slice a donut…..

 It resembled more of a circular fluorescent tube-style light bulb. So bright you can't see where it begins or ends, unless you glance at it directly and then look away and close your eyes fast enough to see the edge in razor-relief within the afterimage before it fades. This pre-afterimage (similar in color, even) hung here before me, autopsied and open. Labeled with I Do Not Know. Not that it wasn't labelled, or that it was No language, or a Strange one...but it seemed to be hyper labelled. Every point to an atomic level (and probably beyond, I imagine) had sets upon enfolded and superimposed and entangled sets of labels. It was a conundrum, until I touched it and it immediately lit up and began responding to my presence by each piece rotating or spinning or zooming in or out, and several unnatural motions, [involution, evolution, wrapping and undulating, all and none of these things], [some extremely difficult to focus on as if the gaze was being bent away] seemingly at both thought and touch simultaneously. I couldn't calibrate any motion to a particular response, as if it were also taking commands from my emotional state or subconscious [though it seemed, or I had a intuition, that I was directly responsible for all included motion]? Bears further research.

 It did not feel threatening, but I can't seem to recall if anyone showed me how to use it or beckoned me closer, or if I simply couldn't resist touching. I got a distinct feeling of un-alone-ness, but no other figures were visible.

I began haphazardly slopping through various labels and segments of the inside of the wheel, searching for...for anything that felt right. Every tagged and labelled point sparked feeling and my brain heated up, and I, almost as if in a dream, briefly had a -subjective- experience of a scene from something else's point of view. Some living, some plant, some so alien it made me nauseous and I couldn't understand, but all moments contained coordinates that allowed them to be placed into a constantly fluxing space-time flow-map (or rather…their coordinates were Marked somehow within this map) and afterward I could see their glows when looking up and knew instinctively that I'd be able to find any mindspace experienced in this fashion again forever.

The points with no labels drove me into ecstatic states with extreme psychophysical hallucination. I judged these to be new experiences. Everything had happened, will happen, is happening. But whatever my Self is of has a map of all possible experience and is systematically covering all experiential ground.

The wheel had a flexibility, stuck to your fingers and would sometimes seem to flex and bounce. Any motion was accompanied by a swipe through several dozens or hundreds of points and you didn't have to be focused to be plugged in for that fleeting less than moment that it spun through the labelled and non labelled.

At a certain point I realised the pieces that came out could be molded and refit elsewhere and that this technique dramatically shifted reality and caused distortion and a fresh wave of visual effects. These were too great to overcome and I lost myself and the wheel.

"You ever notice that people who believe in creationism look really unevolved?
 Eyes real close together, big furry hands and feet. "I believe God created me
 in one day." Yeah, looks like he rushed it."  -Bill Hicks