Syndicated from Existential Nodes
2009 October
Syndicated from Existential Nodes
capitalism, the power of myth, nomads
[no seemingly random title today, just my old boring convenience label] Saw a couple of films this past weekend. One a horror, blaire witch type of thing that was decent -interesting to try and observe / participate in the fear, group psychological experience of it. Then Michael Moore’s Capitalism movie –which I must say looking forward [...]essay into the industrial complex.
What would it be to see as the Grateful Dead see it? What could be the harm in that thing there? The view is serene, with two drummers in the background, and enough acid to throw us on our hippie asses. Where do we go once the good times die? When our heads have busted wide open from that perception of a world where things are a hallucination. There is still that little subsistent grouping of people around the world, but in excess is where it seems to have rested its position. The masses gathered at the feet of supposed gods which are really monsters at heart. What happens when we realize that mess? Do we surge forward, and present our hind ends to the authority in charge? I have chosen not to give up hope, no matter how …
Syndicated from Existential Nodes
Breathe, breathe in the air
Had to laugh at the beginning of the super director’s version (or whtvr on netflix instant) Dark Side of the Moon pretty much starts like, “…So after Syd went crazy,”. Ch thinks PF went much more industrial, like a machine (or sorry for not doing your take justice), that once Syd left they were able [...]Syndicated from Existential Nodes
the bitches love me cuz they know that i can rhyme
[today's seemingly random title comes from a Mindless Self Indulgence song] Got some exercise listening to MSI this morning. Great energy for it. I loaded up someone’s MSI playlist on Grooveshark. As another track unfolded (dance-y driving energy in vocals and music, irreverent, honest and most of all fun) I had to laugh as the chorus [...]beautiful disgust
Dichotomy at it’s finest, that. In death it seems life can be reaffirmed, and in loss a gain. Perhaps this vague collection of words has deep meaning, or maybe the deep meaning can’t fully be expressed through the construct we call language… which I’ve found to be more often than not the case. The lexicon of emotion far out-nuances the lexicon of language. Well, the english language anyway, I suppose I can’t speak for any other, since I can’t speak IN any other.
Ramble ramble rant.
that resin left.
The droppings left on the ground formed a cake of black tar. There was no smell except that of a plastic soul embedded somewhere in the crust of its depth. The ground it was laying upon yielded to the substance as it absorbed into the dirt, making a place for itself within the seeping fingers of the still liquid underside, and prevented all normal growth from underneath. The texture, to the touch of anyone who dared, was noted for its sticky compliance yet absolute solidity when stressed. A potent substance derived from nothing… so nothing is the only result. Thoughts lost when least expected, to be left for another vacant mind, and perhaps leading to innovation in some regard. A terrible feeling, to know the dark matter was once a part of you, but the other part of you …
Quote of the Month; October….2009
“When we argue for our limitations, we get to keep them.”
~ Evelyn Waugh; writer and social critic.