Affinity for a trinity…
Skinny Puppy…Velvet Acid Christ…Mindless Self Indulgence…
Who are they, what are they, and what do they mean to me?
critical concepts
How would that sound?
Jimmy Page (Led Zeppelin)… the Edge (U2)… Jack White (White Stripes)…
Might it really get that loud?…
the 13th strikes again…
so Here we are yet again, my tramps and dears alike, the day of days. friday the 13th and no Voorhees in sight. taking my place in the human race without being shy about it, and without the definite affinity with melting objects. the brain drains the pan dry, stepping out into the light, and the flickering display that consciousness has made me imperatively aware of first hand. what is luck, eh?… unlucky in life, unlucky in nearly every other aspect of living, but why the urge to move anyway? sometimes the motion kills remains of aches and seething hatreds that bury themselves under the skin, to stay active makes the blood flow into those warm places. a crutch for the unwary perhaps, but always with the sophisticated tone in ambivalence for reality working towards a progressive end, consistent …
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 …
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 …