out of Context;
‘to push the limits of human endurance as that dance of the perpetual rhythm always at work just under the skin, what humanity is could perhaps be described as a non-prophet not-for-profit group of people that are Here now in the real world trying to affect change for the positive which strong contingents of competitive forces have been progressively warping ever since a profit could be turned to the benefit of the corporate structure best, and under the nose of any one official who could help as with the proverbial movement of the mountains that is necessary to tackle before change becomes legislature that is accepted fairly universally… we have gotten too used to a society of incomplete ideas and random manipulations…’
out of Context;
‘the only way to free oneself from this bizarre disbelief that is in an interdependent relationship with the manifest humanity has been to allow “space” for mind and body and soul to be suspended separately while still within the solid confines of the spatial body, and this usually is only to be enacted as a form of life-changing passage rite to adulthood in most cultures whose previous stance on the thing called ‘humanity’ as opposed to this supposed civilized nationality which has rejected ‘ancient knowledge’ steadily in the last two thousand years or so since… the debacle involving remnants of both bestial and social humanity as ritual myths began to change again since their primitive resemblance to interpreting the mutation of humanity from the base animal roots to the present aspect acting as social cog…’
out of Context;
‘manipulating hypocrisy, and always with a robot god’s face draped in a hood winking to eclipse the harm in the demon actions that have been far removed into a visage glaring in the sun… the odd strains of the voice match the ins toward the outs as the demons come and play to watch the fear as it boils to the surface of my skin, and it drips its drops of sweat under bright lights that taunt and glare overhead like launching into a thousand karaoke songs at once it would seem, the twisted gut approval portrayed by the gnarled things that we most become in our shallow critical waves as applause sounds out in chorus around the room and back again… the tentacle raped itself from the metaphysical miasma of dread that some artists interpret…’
out of Context;
‘a certain personality without dread at the coming end as that collective dark matter remembers something that resembles, not unlike a certain disreputable reputation that becomes evermore the legend that random people savor and are found to sometimes sacrifice to that altar of gods unknown using faces of the avatars of lost epic cultures beyond this form we are transmitting to you… the television has become your trainer and is equipped to discipline you, outfitted with the latest technology to impair your thoughts so you can follow sentences that other people want you to hear for your own good…’
out of Context;
‘fits in their place after an eventual misunderstanding has been under way for years now, and few could ever understand that plight loud and the absolute of clear, though only that game played for fun and profit as trade instead of the service to life and the competence for its content if just to decide to throw it all away from something else this late in thinking ahead to try living right again and again… with a seppuku pseudo-science by my side all anime as shit when it comes down to slashing the bad guys, with gut-spilling swiftness blurring between the lines of natural science against the boundaries of imaginary rules, and left the splurge of a godless demiurge that waits to clean spills claiming to do it for the thrill though somehow secretly demanding the obligation…’
out of Context;
‘the morgue fills with dead forms milling about while their spirits find ways to detach from real places they once knew, the wailing banshee always in mourning the perpetual dusk of dread while searching to lodge in a far away land, and maybe to be reborn as a new missionary of man’s progress through a damned struggle with demand… the only question asking soulless things how they would live if they were given the one chance to be incarnated as a being in flesh, i believe this is something of the state we are in, and the cosmos is so utterly more vast than the microcosmic mind can comprehend only the surface of such explorations inside our heads…’
out of Context;
‘the control that media has on our ideas as the system expunges our purpose and ethics for mass and volume and the efficacy thereof… we look only for the carved into stone approach as being the better of multiple choices, no matter how bitterly we have sacrificed for these backward ideals that siphon the creative impulse from the rest of this neanderthal cesspool that stone aged creations have leaped through like a warping portal from one stage to the next without even beginning to scratch the surface, but this is how one begins to carve away the wall-like covering over the fence that shelters this route from all the other intruders getting in lawless and chaotic of momentum… rolling down the mountain like a horse with no name…’
out of Context;
‘the history edible and viable for the consuming mass quality in the realm of life phased constantly between the material lines and the crossing of artificial boundaries of growth meant to subdue the physical swell in number of individual cells that would consolidate into one massive titanous form to behold, as though this were some kind of Clive Barker tale at all, but no this is how all of the pieces even the feces come together within us to be expressed as the human being… no way to escape this grotesque burlesque or its dancing fools shambling the entertainment into a new state of frenzy to keep the surging binary code at work…’
out of Context;
‘inked to every other being in this rarified state in time and space, submitting to the cruel standards that provoke us to adapt or die, and occasionally we meet our maker pondering too long the weight of conformity and community when may be we should just jump in head first to understand that which we do not… people can be the liability that is required to make things happen in any particular order in this world, the masses are necessary for the ebb-and-flow effect that shapes and moulds our atmosphere Here, and from that first narrow passage to the last we have the opportunity to create worlds within worlds… we waste our materials and we waste our lives working too hard for little compensation in return for our labors…’
out of Context;
‘making the motions to self-cannibalize starting with the brain and working my way down to the rest of the corpse… i am attempting to eat the strange vessel that oxides and decays right before my eyes before it has a chance to disappear of its own accord, the disease is the reconciliation of that schism between forces of consciousness contrasting as it connects to a material reality to which the rest of us have some pent-up fear of losing a slippery grip on this stable static relatively-narrowed environment left to our own devices, but found art put together like a puzzle manifested through reverse engineered work as perhaps a Rube Goldberg/ Marcel Duchamp piece of a readymade phantasm made flesh… if there is but one pope out there, then the rest of us are the anti-popes…’