Tuesday, June 7, 2022

Yes I Know: the Thread You Have to Keep Finding, Over Again

Above from 2016, done during a particularly nasty period of shitlord cracker-prodding, minor compared to current shitlord cracker-prodding projects, see notes on *this* catastrophist below
Will Ohio public schools post a women's genitalia "expert" at every high school sports event to inspect your 13 year old daughter's clit because a crackerchrister parent is upset your daughter beat his daughter in the 100 yard dash?
I am telling you three times, the more shitlords agitate and stimulate and weaponize American crackerchristers the shittier and faster their actuaries and accountants tell their shitlord bosses to extract what rents are left to extract via raw authoritarianism while they can
I never thought once in 2016 that I should buy a gun, see grid below the song I woke up with in my head

Scientists accidently create SUPER-VICIOUS HAMSTER!
2022 June 52022 June 7
Remembering Chalmers Johnsonh/t Charley
Catastrophe drives evolution
Three sightings in past week of the noun catastrophist, armageddonist still better for haikus, I'm both
I find myself thinking more often that I need learn a martial art for the inevitable street confrontations with crackers that are coming, I surprise myself now and then finding myself imagining myself buying a gun
The harder faster nastier shitlords goad crackers the earlier our shitlords want to speed up their exfil to South Pacific islands time table for the post-apocalypse
Found in translation: Sorokin (and Putin)
Reminder: everything deviant that cracker-christers accuse you of doing they are already doing themselves
Blue lies matterBRUTALITY
Maggie's weeklyFRESH HELL
The dreams of animals
Apparently Kate Bush's *Running Up That Hill* (whose working title was *Deal with God* which wasn't allowed by record company on finished project), popular again because of some TV show, here's someone's sixty minutes of Kate's songs
Serendipitously, I was thinking about My Sillyass Deserted Island Five Game when hiking this past Sunday (Marie joined us, I was walking ahead of her and L yapping), fortunately for you I didn't feel compelled to tell you about it though David Thomas' birthday a week from today might make me type about it
What is time?{ feuilleton }'s weekly
BOOM! New ONEIDA, holyfuck, LOUD!


Jean Valentine

People pray to each other. The way I say "you" to someone else,respectfully, intimately, desperately. The way someone says"you" to me, hopefully, expectantly, intensely ...

—Huub Oosterhuis

You       who I don’t know       I don’t know how to talk to you   

—What is it like for you there?

Here ... well, wanting solitude; and talk; friendship—
The uses of solitude. To imagine; to hear.
Learning braille. To imagine other solitudes.
But they will not be mine;
to wait, in the quiet; not to scatter the voices—

What are you afraid of?

What will happen. All this leaving. And meetings, yes. But death.   
What happens when you die?

“... not scatter the voices,”

Drown out. Not make a house, out of my own words. To be quiet in   
another throat; other eyes; listen for what it is like there. What   
word. What silence. Allowing. Uncertain: to drift, in the
restlessness ... Repose. To run like water—

What is it like there, right now?

Listen: the crowding of the street; the room. Everyone hunches in   
against the crowding; holding their breath: against dread.

What do you dread?

What happens when you die?

What do you dread, in this room, now?

Not listening. Now. Not watching. Safe inside my own skin.
To die, not having listened. Not having asked ... To have scattered   

Yes I know: the thread you have to keep finding, over again, to   

follow it back to life; I know. Impossible, sometimes.

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