Tattoo Tale

Would this look good on my skin?

Come To Me Moon

Land Ho!

Who you callin' HO?

Alas! A Reef Ahead!

Good Bye Number Nine

Well, I'm sure you all heard about Pluto's recent demotion.

Actually, I was quite relieved. Perhaps I take these things more seriously than some...

because how embarrassing it would have been if we decided to count every ball shaped piece of ice out there in the Kuiper Belt as a planet.

Imagine what the neighbors would think!


Anyway, thanks Pluto... for giving us that groovy '9' feeling.

We will keep you in our hearts, if not our textbooks.

Cross Your Wires

"A man who claims to have developed a free energy technology which could power everything from mobile phones to cars has received more than 400 applications from scientists to test it.

Sean McCarthy says that no one was more sceptical than he when Steorn, his small hi-tech firm in Dublin, hit upon a way of generating clean, free and constant energy from the interaction of magnetic fields. 'It wasn't so much a Eureka moment as a get-back-in-there-and-check-your-instruments moment, although in far more colourful language,' said McCarthy. But when he attempted to share his findings, he says, scientists either put the phone down on him or refused to endorse him publicly in case they damaged their academic reputations. So last week he took out a full-page advert in the Economist magazine, challenging the scientific community to examine his technology.

McCarthy claims it provides five times the amount of energy a mobile phone battery generates for the same size, and does not have to be recharged. Within 36 hours of his advert appearing he had been contacted by 420 scientists in Europe, America and Australia, and a further 4,606 people had registered to receive the results."

The Observer - UK News



(I'll be keeping a close eye on this as it develops. As with the advent of Mankind as a spacefairing species, developing advanced energy systems is fundamental to our survival.)



Ok, kids... that's it, now you can go back to recess.

Mid-Eruption

"It pays to keep an eye on the sun. On August 16th, watchful photographer Rogerio Marcon of Sao Paulo, Brazil, caught sunspot 904 in mid-eruption" . . . thanks spaceweather.com.

Surface Tension

As I do.
As you do.

He knows,
The one there,
With his hands holding in his face,
With Awareness, a bullish twinkle, in his eye,
Formed from the intense force of
Thought.

Thought so simple.

The violence of his mind again takes...

Substance and Definition.
Context and Volition.
Memory and Fear.

Every drop of his water was born of this future vision,
One, and then another,
His mind's desires flicker,
Congeal and seek each other,
Combat each other,
Together, swelling the volume.

The mass inside him shifts and stretches,
Mental liquid thickening,
Strengthening to rigidity,
Rages and thrusts against his skull,
Boiling beneath the fragile bonds of
The man's surface tension.

He turns to someone else,
A face new to the gathering.
A different ear.

Again, the waves roll,
Crests rising with energy potential,
Yet for the moment still falling short of materialization.

The onlookers twitch and swat at themselves,
As they begin to perceive the intensifying moisture in the air.
They had come only wondering what could be wrong,
What could be wrong within this man
Standing so strange in the street.

His gaze shifts again,
Neck twitching away as if from a migraine dragon.
His eyes flash as when one feels
an acute, surprising, internal pain.

He forces his wet vision back downward.
For another minute, he swallows.
The muscles in his face constrict ripple tight.

Suddenly, he blinks in conclusion,
A decision,
Some wet bandage of consensus,
And turns to face the one.
The one he had earlier seen
Approach from the corners of his eye,
The one of the past, the one well known,
The one he remembers when dying alone.

His eyes slowly arc upwards to meet hers.

He Drinks the world's breath down his throat,
And holds it.

Feeling the moment of contact,
The raging water stills itself to silence,
And all at once performs a slow shimmer,
Like the start of a thousand tsunami, far out to sea.
The water's very molecules shake and stir in self resonance,
Amping to a vibrant shrill.



The man's expression shoves more white into his face.
The piercing hush deafening all who hear.

No one had a moment to shudder.

Only the
(ghost of two white globes),

could witnesses recall for the news cameras,
for the round spectral eye of the millions,

And the
(cavernous black hollow that channeled the sound,
that horrid scream).



The Water,
The Vastness of
The Envisioned,
Was never imagined before The Breach,
Never before, this spilling of us in the desert.

Bring It Over Here, Carla

Hmmm.. Green Sauce.

Love My Monster

...images stolen without any permission whatsoever in a completely disrepectful way from...

Revillos UK


(man, why do I feel so cartoonish lately?)

Alighting Her Cool Blue Flame

Hand Sighs

End of Everything (nice)

On a solemn note:

One of my blogger community friends,
Everything Nice (Emma),
decided to close the hot burning flame of
liberated woman fury and sexual feng shui that was
BubbleGumMeltDown.

Damn. It was fun reading her stuff, and checking in for HNT.
Emma is one of the few true Sirens left on this boring globe.

(just like you, Tethys)

She and her words will be missed.

(plus half my god damned traffic came from her site!) ;-)

Oh Betty!

Aye Leadsman, Be Wary Our Keel

Another avalanche rush
rolls against the timbers...

I, caught in a strange sea,
Stand alone on deck this morning.

Communication from others not forthcoming,
no fettered pigeons,
no signal lights,
no crackling on the radio set.

Alone with my liquid anxiety,
flying the dutchman,
here waiting for whomever you are,
Nessie, Bessie, Moby Dick,
I wait for thee,
as I heft my spar, and clutch my stomach.

Do you feel this way too?

Is it but an interlude?

Are we all waiting to be caught again
in the roving bright circle of the lighthouse eye?

Is it land ahead, or aft?

Did we forget the map of whatever
faceless ocean we find ourselves?

Are we lost without depth charts?

Do we worry how resilient the ship?

Are there pirates in these waters,
are there hull cracking rocks nearby,
do sharks swim below us?

Can question marks serve as rescue buoys?

Where is that light?

Why won't it swing thus?

Where is this?

When is dawn to come?

In what air do you breathe this moment.

In Is In

I'm



my new



It feels wonderful.





And let me take this opportunity to say hello to my new wife!
(though you can't see her, cause she's invisible).

Next Stop...

Here We Go

Ever have a dream accelerate to lightspeed?
Ever have a major life decision hit your windshield at 80mph?
Ever think there was any better feeling?

That's where I am now.

In the pipe, 5x5.


Now let's light this candle...

Up Ship Go!!!

Auditorium

How to sleep after we wake,

How to wake after we sleep,

How are you?

What a day huh?

What container are you in?
Is it a moment that you can't shake,
Is it an open living,
Dying close?



What we wear,
What we feel upon our skin,
What strange thing, this day's dream.

Good night nurse,
I'll live to say:

Hello
Fellow.
Down below?
But heaven you see,
Above we must have three.

Cryptic enough for you?

Listen,

Cutting wood warms you Thrice.
Chopping and Burning,
My friend, Thoreau.



Yet there's Marking,
the paper,
the tablet,
the canvas,
my Cutlass,
the caveman's wall,
seeing,
recording super novas in Hohokams 1006.

We may touch each other past death,
It's not such a wall.



We may know everything we forgot,
It's a singular circular spot.

Some time feels like
an Auditorium,
a room of echos,
full of wispers in the black.



Pray God, may we hear what cannot be seen.

If you know what I mean.

Machine Learning

Just because you have the Information,
It doesn’t make it more or less Random,
Or True.

And if you found Me in three Years,
Would I look better than I do now?

Pain is the Medicine,
The Truth is not electable.

Does a new Horse mean a new day?

Here comes the Sun,
The only one.

It’s easier for the dumbshits to have fun.
-LN.

In the summer, it’s making ice.
In the winter, it’s the warm gloves.


You wear.


And you wonder why the beers disappear.


As I grow old, stranger Is, stranger told.


In life, you gotta be more than yourself,
Ten percent over the hundred.
-LM.

And after…

I think, it’s all just machines.
And some of you may disagree.
But how do you know how machines dream?

Her name is . . .