Thursday, November 30, 2006

Listen To The Man

Hawking's only like the smartest guy on Earth,

He sees space people

well, besides Ed Widden.

"Mankind will need to venture far beyond planet Earth to ensure the long-term survival of our species, according to the world's best known scientist, Professor Stephen Hawking.

Stephen Hawking says space is his next goal
Returning to a theme he has voiced many times before, the Cambridge University cosmologist said today that space-rockets propelled by the kind of matter/antimatter annihilation technology popularised in Star Trek would be needed to help Homo sapiens colonise hospitable planets orbiting alien stars."


Friday, November 17, 2006

Scream And Leap

--from the Man-Kzin Wars


The mightiest river is made of raindrops.

Not even the Patriarch commands the sun.

Time makes bones of life as stlsi [carrion grubs] make bones of a carcass.

A wise enemy is better than a foolish friend.

Wisdom comes slowly even to the wise.

No slave comes willingly to anger.

All warriors must eat.

Ask the experienced, not the learned.

The Fanged God won’t protect a fool.

The victor is not weary at the moment of victory.

Never give advice in a crowd.

Truth hurts when it should.

Speak truly, but speak with care.

The Fanged God sells knowledge for labor and honor for risk.

Hunt in the cool season for food you need in the hot.

Battle has no time for sorrow.

Wind comes to everyone, but meat only comes to the hunter.

It’s not the kill, it’s the thrill of the chase.

Good friends are worth the wealth of a world.

Ctervs hide in still water.

A fool will say what he can’t understand.

Brothers fight harder than neighbors.

The Pride is no braver than the Patriarch, no wiser than the Conserver.

Ropes trap fools, puzzles trap the wise.

When a fool quotes proverbs the wise [sentient] listen.

The cunning hunter follows the wind to the sun and doubles his tracks.

The rain rains.

Strakh flows to the noble as the rain to the river.

Strong in cunning does not mean weak in courage.

The meat lies beneath the fur.

Swimmers [fish] never thirst.

Choose your name wisely, then bring it honor.

Greet necessity with enthusiasm.

Sheath pride and bare honor.

He who drinks the wind shall thirst, he who stalks the stream shall starve.

When honor and shame balance on a needle, who holds the needle?

Lead with action, follow with words.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Plateau Context


Loganhurst, fresh and clean.

More T-shirts, what do you mean?

Stop reading now.

Look away, click away, swing away.
Close all that you have.
Night has come, and the stars
Are all we need.
All follow what is not behind.

Stop reading now.

Invite not this story,
This double negative,
This contraction that uses
My heart as an apostrophe.


When I met the Plateau,
I was alone,
Knew nothing but the ground and the sky.
I was high
In the air,
In the passive tense.

I spoke,
I heard myself speak,
I wondered
What is Context,
What is the context of life,
The Real and the Un-Real?


The difference became:

What is found after Discovery,
What Remains is Remembered.

The recurring presence of the Pyramid
Is what makes it great.

It Lasts in your eyes,
Your ears,
Solid to the Fingers.
Existence is a Monument,
An impression that can be shared
With other minds than your own.


What is Real and Un-Real.

What is agreed as unreal and unreal.


After the Savannah,
After Existentialism,
After post modern forgetfulness,
Remains a mystery of depth,
Remains Memory,
Memory made most by emotional association.

We are but the memory of what is Capitalized
And what is not.

But memory of our Actions,
In our mind,
And the mind of others

(that separation being the Bane
of the Human condition).

Feeling emotes reality.

Has religious science,
Scientific religion left us
Without context?

The context of emotion,
Of feeling making us real.

We live to feel.

I remember only what meant most to me,
As we are,
As all we become.

We will feel we.

(And I know I keep saying it)

, and so I will become you,

And the words
(except math)
Will end.

(Except what records must remain)

…a World without Speaking,
Yet retained, the necessary Art of spelling out the context.

rover b-w

Sitting so cross-legged,
Upon the Edge of the plateau,
I laughed at myself,
At my talking to myself,
Pretending I’m someone,
Keeping Sane,
Keeping Time,
Keeping hope for some magical More

Than just me.


(next is Fate)



Thursday, November 09, 2006



And write it on the bus,
And write it at night,
And write it alone.

Write it to you,

Lovely rose, emma, sullen,
Trace the life from,
Me to here,
To belief, to fear.

To pluto’s loss of name,
And the luxury of love.

And guess what jeans I’m wearing,
And what bones are buried,
In my back yard.

And forgive me,
And speak.

Design what you seek
Regret not this moment,
Not this glance,
Not this chance,

Not his retard rhyme.

I’m a lover and a dier.
I die for love every night.

And wake again.

And I know I got bills to pay.
But that time is …away.

And begin and end
This prison sentence with conjunction,

Live glory, when you have it.
Burst your heart forth,
For what it’s worth,

When Frank Black rolls.

Black Francis,
Turn your name round in your head.

Practice the skills that make you

And rhyme, like a retard.

I admit all is solved,
Until the next breath.

I’ll see you all in the marigolds.


Artist: Frank Black
Album: Devil's Workshop
Year: 2002
Title: Fields Of Marigold

Not for sugar not spice
Not for fool’s paradise
Not for giving advice
Not for saving a soul
There’s no reason for some
Now I’m getting numb
Now that moment has come
Hey how about a drum roll
For the Fields of Marigold?

Goodbye, I’m blowing a kiss to you
So long, wonderful being you
Goodnight we’ll soon be sleeping on the Fields of Marigold

Is it time to get up?
Now you’re breaking up
Though I know we are tough
I thought we’d lose control
And end up in the freezing cold

Goodbye, I’m blowing a kiss to you
So long, wonderful being you
Goodnight, we’ll soon be sleeping on the Fields of Marigold (x2)

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

The Typeset


Typewriter written, on the phone with ltlmke

I’ve never liked that word at all.

Rectangle-state people live in boxes.

Weather is a predator,
A snake that can eat you whole.
Earth’s atmosphere, planets’ motion,
Single systemic flux.

You; (verb); other.

Concrete ice of the mind,
An aspiration story.

Forget the “ABCs”
And the spelling,

Now we see the crocodile,
I’ll hang his teeth on the wall,

“Tool” said ltlmke.

Hello I’m listening,
Sullen Girl,
I was thinking,
Changing phones.

Fish tank: an enclosure of fluidic space,
You probably can’t hear it,
But they come up and pick
The food right out of your fingers.

Feed the fish.

They’re almost like mood rings
That swim around.

…Ya know, another
Cool fish to have
[are] angel fish…

Yeah, I’m just feeding the fish listening to you type.
Yeah, I’m just typing about you feeding the fish.

He’ll hammer
Me on my math skills.

Then off we go.

Mathmatical equations all over the page.

I still like the pawns stretching diagonally.
I’m the queen; I’d like to be the rook.
This game is going to move pretty quickly I think.

This ain’t some tappy-ti-tap on the keyboard,
Hoping the electrons go,

Swing ink!
We are swinging ink!

The colors kinetic,

Little moving pieces of letter,

The typeset.

“I even got to make the paper one day.”

swinging ink

....and so upon the following morning:

I am,

Patient as a stained glass window,
waiting for the sun,

Wary as a lion,
spring loaded in the brush,
as she suddenly smells another meat eater,

Muted as sunglasses,
on a cloudy day,

Swinging ink like
a squid in peril,

Horny as a jack rabbit,
buried in a bag of viagra.