Quote o’ the Month; October 2016

“The strategic adversary is fascism… the fascism in us all, in our heads and in our everyday behavior, the fascism that causes us to love power, to desire the very thing that dominates and exploits us.”

~ Michel Foucault; philosopher, social theorist, philologist, and literary critic.

to Pair the oddities…

out of Context;
‘asking forgiveness in the belief of divine faith that overrides the stains made by human creatures taking shape in the waste, but the hammer strikes with the scythe rendering this discussion mute as much moot to their vacillations vivisecting inside the ruling class of their awful elitist dreams and glory casting others about like rag dolls to distort and harm without a retaliation vexing sting to keep those parties in a perpetual swing as to stop it all would kill the illusion which remains like a halo over our heads collected together Here my friends sharp as small jagged thorns stick and sacrifice the losers to honest whimsy… what is it to be regarded as simply divine or as legendary?…’

so myth Tickle…

out of Context;
‘uncertain urges that are unforgiving, and Here we are a bit deeper in the nightmare than when we were previously being conceived as merely trivial bytes of dreams and flesh floating alive in the atmospheric womb stewing in septic fears and guilt trips gone awry until that most highly anticipated birth of the child whose worth fills out wholes left empty by those cowards and craven villains matched to meet the maker’s edging with the branding marks on the chest used to signify these commodities slow to lose value… the fulcrum of power a full turnaround devoured as the tale of the ouroboros in its traveling surge leaving crumbs of glory in the wake of this world ocean manipulated by waves of these peculiar individuals…’

the Verb ate hymn….

out of Context;
‘we are prodded along to cross those thresholds as master bait preceding in the come to harm that only calms after the jagged heartbeat thumping down doors to open a passageway a short silence to that next gravid moment weighty with scars to be had once the experience has died in your hands down from the initial frenzy of heat broached by the opposing stances admitting the attacks contrasted by passionate bursts…’

ride the Frightening…

out of Context;
‘we are nothing if not gifted with natural ways to adapt around these feats of leisure class learning limited by our psyche and the emotional body/ self that as passenger to these misadventures culminating into what we would call a ‘life’ takes on a whole new series of weird meanings when we pass on whether to those greater rewards promised for the services we have rendered or perhaps lost forever as a dickless piece of fuck…’

Of corns and calluses…

out of Context;
‘relating the outside world to my internal analog because of senses that i barely understand while presently Here within this richest abundance yet is always constrained by all of these conditioned obligations as the functions of slight corruptions are erupting into as vacuous an attention eluding the perception of truths as the shadows dancing around this light reflected back upon the person viewing images caught in sight of that window, that personal panorama of dreams torn asunder from the seams of sleep where it is we reside most comfortably awaiting a kinetic jostle from cold data around the way as gated threshold encoded to doors of perception unladen by swallows of dry wit too droll to affect the accents that perhaps make it a joke worthwhile…’

give in to the Propaganza…

out of Context;
‘a spinning wheel of fortuitous losing as the supposed winners wincing have already gotten off this ride severely austere driving home the noose as clues to this cruelty and the fealty to the vicious nature of this kingdom working holistically toward conclusions of proof in truth mayhem supporting the righteous while putting a boot down stamping upon the rest of this human face viewing to crush hope and drown faith in its own juices squeezed so as to drip the dollars as abject waste fertilizing the fruits of labor’s love lost, but only as it was tossed in amongst the heap with the compact of trash thrashing around glories and gutter valor…’

Quote o’ the Month; September 2016

“Dreams are illusions, and we can’t let go of them because we would be dead.”

~ David Copperfield; illusionist and stage magician.

twisting, turning, through the Nevus…

out of Context;
‘if there are such things like monsters we have dismissed into the shadows and then regrettably forget about a condemned amalgam of nightmares refused substance by an overwhelming consensus between few actual hands as deep in the power struggle as it is played to be while trying to contain damages done, and manage to control the reaction to these movements as they occur then we are eventually coerced into becoming a part of the dreaming we left when we became living gods caught up in a fraud of sorts as the pieces we contribute flow back in to spread the myth further of who we were during in those days and nights sent scurrying and questioning…’

beYond the meta…

out of Context;
‘a series of vivid selfish exposures to the oxidizing system that forces trauma upon a people that it creates much as i have come to see bugs are a force of nature though one that always dramatically changes, in human as a nature has been exalted to a category superior to other animals even though tending to be these basest of constructs compared to these other types of creatures can lichen us to the animals as the main predator in whose violent primal self is one raging hormone away from attacking any others for dominance in the kingdom even when subtle repercussions can deaden the senses used to adapt us and woe be to those…’