Author: flyagaric23

  • Tesco DROPS bid for STOURBRIDGE store? MORE LIES?

    “Tesco drops bid for store

    Supermarket giant Tesco has ditched its decade-long battle to build a store in Stourbridge.

    Bosses have withdrawn from a lengthy fight against Dudley Council’s decision to block plans for a huge 65,000 sq ft store outside the ring road on the Angel Triangle site.–EXPRESSZZSS and ZZSSSTAR, Newspaper.

    You see here, if Express and Star Journalists would have said MAYBE Tesco are dropping their bid
    They might not look like such SNAKES,
    If indeed TESCO does come through with Modus into Stourbridge.

    I rest my case.
    United Shopping Center Snakes UK!

    Deadly Burrough Council.

    –SBD
    (Silent but Dudley)

  • CT is for Clone Town: Strip Mall Stourbridge.

    Before my response.
    Here’s some writing, prepared for this matter of Stourbridge, Shopping Malls, Poetry and me:

    MONOPOLY Everyware like ©hristmas board-room games. Monopoly on water, air, land and thought. Wee drink Peace for sport. Ghosts of Slaggy Thatcher’s Britain. Great became grit. Industry sold to Palmer Eldritch. GO GET HOOKED on Kapitalisimus. Here comes E-Bay, Amazon, flare trade and google, everybody together again. Faceback to the singularity. Digital highs and lows. Get hooked on electronic DRUGS! Mental-pathic wrestling matches Inn-the-net! Up against the wall Monopolying Motherfuckers. Direct deception delivery services.

    Who issues it, how? Get a loan, get hooked on consumerism. Get a Good stale corporate Job for a multi-national and help expand the third world war. I pray to the rusting iron-ore Sun set through a cracked looking glass, sand Led and a bitter pint on my heavy maybe mind. Not rioting just wrioting. Making herbal Fli-Tunes for Bob. At peace with Mary Janne. Gordon Brown in Bollywood, B☠sh in Disney world, Bl☠ir playing Tennis With Cliff Richard. Me, I’m down the pub getting pissed and stoned. U.K Lottery economy. X-factory life. U.S Citizenship lottery. The War lottery. All balls up in the air, have yours Dropped? Get hooked On Urban Shamanism.

    Big Brother maybe watching YOU His Sister Him the last time I looked. Crime against humanity, crimes Against supernature Tzar’s “Faith based” government wishes humanity be Dumb, hooked on sugar meat Fernsehfunk And Koks-Kapitalismus. Drop the “IS” of identity and discover a semantic clarity. Old Angleterre of mud n’ bog I love thee so. I love BOG Spirit. Damn, the longer I amaway the more i pinefor Great Britain. S/he hooks me. Get hooked on supermarket nature brands, seed, fruit, bloem under one roof waterfall the rivière and the hills, psychokinetic spores on the air.

    Mycoremediation of a nation, a Riverruning renewal. And so a lone duck pushes on down rivière. Sovereignty = supermarket-nature, Eglise d’Etat spires interrupt Malvern and Clent hills and the Distant Chinese landsCapes, a Salamander spitting fire on a Dudley coat of arms, forging a head.

    From Spore of the words….by Fly Agaric 23

    Now HERE’s the BBC news from last week,
    Stourbridge Crown Centre: approved
    The go-ahead has been given for a £50 million regeneration of Stourbridge’s town centre that will change the skyline forever. See our pictures and have your say!
    More photos of the Stourbridge redevelopment >
    After years of negotiations, planning has finally been approved to transform Stourbridge’s ailing Crown Centre with a £50 million redevelopment scheme.

    How development may look

    The go-ahead has been given and if all goes to plan construction will begin within the next 12 months.
    The scheme – spearheaded by property developer Modus – will see a 70,000 square foot anchor store – tipped to be a Tesco’s – and a brand new multi-storey car park built in place of the current centre.
    Shop units, 75 apartments and a new market hall will also form part of the redevelopment, creating an estimated 750 new jobs.

    Lower High Street – how it may look

    Stourbridge councillor Les Jones, former Cabinet Member for Economic Regeneration, said:
    “I’m delighted with the news. We stuck to our guns and and made sure that any development was kept in the town centre. I think it will really help breathe a new lease of life into Stourbridge.”
    Modus investment director Peter Macfarlane added:
    “We are absolutely delighted with the news. It’s fantastic for the people of Stourbridge and will help the town immensely.”
    These photos are computer generated images of what the scheme is expected to look like. Click the link at the top of the page to see more.

    What do you think? Tell us below!
    BBC Story about Stourbridge SALE to a company worth 2.5 BILLION POUNDS! !!!!

    My comment, which is now under moderation…

    “See our pictures and have your say!”

    Well, it all come’s a bit late i feel, I’m sad. i mean, to comment about the GO-AHEAD!

    I’ll state for the record that IMHO the methods by which Governments and HUGE Businesses do their dealings–like this one in Stourbridge now–seem crook’d to me. They “the goviness” have IGNORED many local Stourbridge voice’s.

    There was no “mass assembly”: a town meeting, to have a proper and fair and open deabte like they used to have in any respectable OLD market town–(1786, like when the 2nd U.S President John Adam’s was in Town)–but now in 2008 a meeting in which the individuals, the community groups, and the bizznessezz can all hold a microphone, operate an overhead projector and use the most advanced multi-media tools available to have their say and make their comments is possible. But, this means to better communication seems mostly ignored and even blocked by most HUGE power-brokers, like in this sad case.

    “What do you think? Tell us below!”

    Why didn’t the BBC help us with their networking and social communications technology BEFORE the GO-AHEAD?
    For Crying out LOUD.

    Build a Ecological fun-house, an interactive learning center. Teach about permaculture, Local exchange and Trade systems, and the pro’s and con’s to international United Snakes style “Shopping Mall’s” moving into your community/culture/home!
    ;-(

    And so now, i started reading the other comments and found that Cllr. Les Jones made this comment:
    “”By the way, the Crown Centre is only about thirty years old, if anyone can show me its historic character I will be very happy to protect it!” Cllr. Les Jones.

    So this inspired me to recall Stourbridge Crown Center.
    Memories and thoughts, to answer the question “What is the Character of the Crown Center in Stourbridge”?
    I have it.
    ILLUMINATION! is the essence of the CROWN Center.

    Its really interesting that you mention the historic character of the Crown Centre, and the fact that its only 30 years old. Well, I am 31 years young and i was born in Wordsley and i grew up, lived, worked in and around Stourbridge. I love the town, and have many experiences and tales from in and around the Crown Center. To begin with i’d like to talk about URI GELLER and the Crown Center.

    I met URI GELLER in the Crown Center, back in the 90’s as he was appearing at the Earth Mysteries talks, which were maybe the best events i can recall (well, excluding my sisters 21st Birthday party in the Amblecote room) at the Crown Center. Uri geller is a famous Pyschic, and i met him at the Crown Center. Also the Library is housed at the Historic Stourbridge Crown Center, a place i have spent many many hours of study, composition and execution.

    I will not list the books i have read inside the Crown Center, but if you like you can go check the library records, as i’m sure Stourbridge Library, being so hip to security will have accurate documents of which books i’m reading, but, unfortunately not any accurate records of which books i am NOT reading. But the point is i have gone through the rituals of reading at the crown center for over 20 years. Therefore, i feel i have some sense of the historical character of Stourbridge’s Crown Center Market.

    The Sacred Stourbridge Crest lovingly and skillfully crafted into the floor. The Train that sits along the guttering of the inner square of the Crown Center. There’s the small blue/red and yellowfull flower buckets that contrast nicely with the dark purple bricks.

    The people i have met, kissed and fondled in the Crown Center. My sexual exploits at the Library, unforgettable trips around town, on foot, bicycle, skateboard and Roller-skate, snow-ball fights, can’s of larger, a funny cigarette.

    All in the Crown Center, and all probably tales that can be backed up by my beloved friends and loved one’s from in and around the Stourbridge area.

    So the there is a very strong character to Stourbridge Crown Center for me. Historic in every sense. And it is ILLUMINATION. And the awakening to the Religious over-tones to the words “Crown Center” and the holy art of shopping Mall Bizzinessizzss and the commodification of Culture.

    Now a failed hunk of capitalist plastic and useless garbage, verbage, and just old age, old wit, (missing) and a paranoid, conservative sickly addiction to greenbacks, power, control, security, and monopoly on culture.

    Golden chariots blaze acroxx the sky at Sun set. For sale. News arrives left to right black and white print. Castle Bridge of red hash-Brick-silver haze of steel, thc crystal Glass in Knuberry muffins.

    Petrol Station next to an expensive German car showroom next to a ©hurch next to a Snooze Paper office next to a ©hurch next to the Polizeiwache, damn, must escape on my bicycle but the road just leads in Circles.

    Retreat to le verte collines, Stroll the woods bare foot and starry eyed, Green medicine Criminalized by uptight mostly white honky chaps, huh? Green PETROL stations are really Black.

    Cycling through the L.S.D market I glimpsed the geist of Frank’s Trolley. I Cycled in hairy Steven’s park and picked Cherie Rosebaud, popped it onto my tongue and awakend to some lost senses. Full Moon around Mary’s lake.

    Ducks perform water rites perfect rote order, I observe Green awe under oak canopy. Feather and tree Foliage both pocketing similar breeze.

    ❍ak tree silent, Day in day out, quietly Budding a young Girl picking yellow daisies sighs in a winter graveyard.

    Clone towns: a new American strip mall. Councillors like Carnivores hunting in packs. Hannibal Rising in parliament, Church and state croxxed like roads Like entangled tree Branches, young sapling Wrestles a Tesco shopping bag blown Along road.

    Strong winds are the Message, Multi-story skateboard park and Layers of konkrete, liars in property And liars in Law. Liars. Somebody’s going into business, competition Commission inquiry so tell me, Trade Union busting, Worldwide Slave wage? Tes©o℗oly Commission impossible?

    How can you fully gauge their global IMPACT? Winter blackout electric droughts and climate change, country all skint’d by the illegal War. Got any lamp oil, Jobs? BLEW-BERYYS MY ASS. I saw mushr❍❍ms growing on mars. De vine D’evil D’corked, Double “J” Dee. Axis monday, around 23 degrees ℉oreign height to bludopeSKY rope-a-dupe, umbilicalendar light pipe.

    Some sanskrit-ching. What you callem’ I was busking in my local subway i headlined every night got paid in cash and the whole show was recorded each night free of charge as a demo on CC✟V. To be self indulgent, pathetic, no more idea how to write. Block. Wall. Paint. I busk till dawn.

    Lazy stoner. Drop out. Slacker. Wish i wuz a painter. Deflated long haired white middle classed exile. Sweating in case i get sprung, in case they find out i can’t do the math. Suffering from Cannabis Psychosis.

    Gov Liars. About to go nuts
    and bolts and berries all over
    again again.

    –fly agaric 23.

    http://stores.lulu.com/flyagaric23
    http://fatteningblogsforsnakes.blogspot.com/
    http://flyolympic.blogspot.com/
    http://wordspore.blogspot.com/
    http://tsogblogsphere.blogspot.com/
    http://flyagaric2019.blogspot.com/
    http://acrillic.blogspot.com/
    http://maybelogic.blogspot.com/
    http://electronicdrugs.blogspot.com/
    http://ataleofatribe.blogspot.com/
    http://www.myspace.com/flyagaric23
    http://www.myspace.com/flyagaric24
    http://www.myspace.com/rawmemorial
    http://soundcloud.com/flyagaric23
    http://www.flickr.com/photos/14660896@N05/
    http://djflyagaric23.blogspot.com/

  • S is For Stourbridge: what is for sale?

    I have been aware of the long and on-going campaign by re-developers to do a deal in STOURBRIDGE.

    A Deal that will make Millions of Pounds of Profits continue circulating amongst the BIGGEST. The RICHEST and the most powerful corporations. If not Tesco then some equally SUPER-RICH Capitalist BULL; to BUY OUT the means to production and retail space-time in Stourbridge Town, Black Country, England.

    The majority of the people who live or have lived in Stourbridge are being IGNORED! with regards to this SELL OUT deal, thats “Going Ahead” according to the crooked reporting that always accompanies crooked business DEALS.

    Crooked or “CROOK’d” as i prefer, implies that the decision made by our so called democratic government IGNORED most of the views and feedback from the local natives from in and around the STourbridge area. I for one have been IGNORED. Repeatedly on not just the TESCO, SUPER-HYPER MARKET Bloodsucking issues. But the destruction of Brierley HILL Swimming Baths, and the neglect of the RIVER STOUR, considering the Town is NAMED after the River. (which may or may-not get modifyed by the New Hypermarket Cabal.)

    I am, however open to debate and discussion, even lunch or a game of SNOOKER on the issue of URBAN RENEWEL. And will wager my ideas, projects, community group values and cultural experience against any International Corporation with an annual turnover above $23’000. (Modus has an estimated 2.5 Bn turnover) And here is some etymological information to help us evaluate the bull-shit, deception quotent within:

    Modus means mode, way. Vivendi means living. Together, way of living, implies an accommodation between disputing parties to allow life to go on. It usually describes informal and temporary arrangements in political affairs. For example, when two sides reach a modus vivendi regarding the territories disputed, even though they may not agree with each other’s values or attitude, they have worked out a way of living with their differences.–Modus Vivendi @ Wikipedia

    Peter Macfarlane, Modus director of investments, said: ‘It’s fantastic for the people of Stourbridge and will help the town immensely. We aim to provide ever better goods and services in a way that is profitable, ethical and respects the environment, individuals and communities in which we operate.’

    Modus bought the centre in January 2006. The permission follows the plans referral to the Secretary of State by the Government of the Northwest.–Stourbridge property Sale in Property Weekly

    I do not know this Peter Macfarlane. But if he wants to meet be in Stourbridge for a chat about ethics, respecting the environment, individuals and communities then i extend my welcome.

    In the meantime, while people like Peter Macfarlane, and our local M.P and most of the other M.P’s from in and around the Black Country area were not born and bread in the Black Country, they TALK as if THEY KNOW OUR/MY Black Country Culture.
    All they know, it seems to me, is how to talk to Bankers, Lawyers, Police and Thieves. The audacity of these suits and cops to SELL OFF OUR MARKET TOWN, as if it were just WATER, OIL, or ROVER cars. And the cheek of them to talk about their willingness to interact with the community, individuals, just makes them look more slimy, more slithery and snake like. And thats what they is. Snakes. With a UNITED SNAKES SHOPPING COMPLEX! And a religiously inspired fundamentalism towards SHOPPING. Now, i am mixing my own personal feelings with the more factual data. Mixing emotion and subjective bias with the more objective reality i.e the agreement of Stourbridge Burrough Council (Whom i am unfamiliar with, strangely enough–as Stourbridge comes under DUDLEY Burrough Council–control) to GIVE-THE-GO-AHEAD for a total transformation of the Old Market Town, into a new SUPER-HYPER COMPLEX. With shopping, car-parking, even houses for Shopaholics to breed in, or their religiously inspired shopping managment hierrachy.

    The fact that i have called for a simple open group on internet, and a saving, documentation of the people of STOURBRIDGE their comments and feelings expressed through words, about TESCO, SHOPPING MALLS, Local Government and other realted topics. OK, (i think to myself) so i’ll go get em’ myself then shall i? I could use some help.

    Big Business is stealing our culture with stolen teeth. Our Swimming pools, our Skateparks, our Night-Clubs our Pubs and community spaces, even our rivers, and our language (They steal the word Community when they “The property dealers” are not even on Facebook, myspace or any open web forum for a chat) they hide in their mansions on young peoples blood. Vampires day and night. Do anything for them GREEN frogskins, and their masters.

    And so, i dedicate my spore of the words to smuthering this highly deceptive crooked Hyper-Market business model that seems to be killing my country, my culture and my poem. All i have wanted is to communicate, and i have been IGNORED! for more than 4 years by the Dudley MBC Government, and their fine plucked Journalists at the local Newspapers who reinforce these Crooked lies. Our collective voice’s as an alternate and COUNTER-CULTURE, in the Black Country are IGNORED. The heart of Industrial revolutions is under arrest. And great loving people of the general heart are bleeding for Justice, Freedom, Liberty and the local means to production. Let us PLAY! WATCH US PLAYING. And remix your praying into a new saying. 50 Million! You better Pay and Display.

    Steven James Pratt
    DJ Fly Agaric.

    Modus means mode, way. Vivendi means living. Together, way of living, implies an accommodation between disputing parties to allow life to go on. It usually describes informal and temporary arrangements in political affairs. For example, when two sides reach a modus vivendi regarding the territories disputed, even though they may not agree with each other’s values or attitude, they have worked out a way of living with their differences.–Modus Vivendi @ Wikipedia

    Modus gets green light in Stourbridge

    09:27 | 20.03.08

    Stourbridge Borough Council has approved Modus’ plans for the redevelopment of The Crown Centre in Stourbridge.

    By Deirdre Hipwell

    The retail developer plans to reconfigure and extend the retail scheme to provide an 80,000 sq ft Tesco food store, a 15,000 sq ft Market Hall and a 458-space car park. There will also be an additional six shops and 75 flats with car parking while there will be an improved pedestrian linkage between Bell Street and the Town Centre.

    modus said it hoped The Crown Centre would ‘once again become a central focus for the town’.Stourbridge property Sale in Property Weekly

    Modus Property

    Spore of the words….

    The Rivers are our Thothers, they quench our thirst. & we’re thirsty mothers. The whole world word wide is named after her. Her, SHE, Anya Liffeystour. All women, all blue pearl rivers, all goddesses. Yes. wow. Still suffering in the name of progress, polluted by wars. Even today in 2006 i spot shopping trolley remains littering her veins. No crack commando team to remove grandmothers ailments. Does “GoodGod” clean his own Rivers with his almighty weather cycle life cycle. Only natural we shoot our shit into your local waterways. Oh my sweet brandywine lover. And hoily w☠rs pollute the Tigriss. Only logical progress to colonialism that we use “The natural abundance of soaper-nature” for our own, Imperial de∜ices. And continue with our divine will to power, and To double product prices. Double product taxes. Water rates, OIY. Stop that tax. Tariff on imagination. Stop the tax. Contributions to clean water solutions come with poisons. Do our Rivers have pensions? I follow your stench along the watchtower, between the banks. Watching from my Apolination state. Conservativelϒ the mixed sewage reaches Lions largest River, ‘The River Seven,‘ like a slimyspace sausage of golden syrup. Im horrified at the deadly sinns committed by m☢dern industrial industry. Industry up☢n our naturally abundant channels of beauty, speechless, but not all of them. Most eye seer each day are dirty, p☢is☣nou$ to humans and ₤ull of shit. My own skewered gobservation mind you. I rest my case at the stourmouth delta, she speaks for herselves.: Gold en-eye appeared coughing up Jamaican flem. The tiny weenie-wee object said: “Wetleg, urinnavision: my Sunnydelight, urinnavision bong context where urinvention of Liquid lungwaj turns into runnaway success ripples in a pond, eye Understond; your bodily fluid dynamics have sprung a leak.” The Golden one €yed snake continued – “yourine sample flooded our Urinverse, stop Pissin about and go sear a therapisst. Look after yourine self OK.” Dripping on seeds during conversation with Golden flow, i said: “I’m a Goldonny chile of torrential water slides, upward fountain of youth; brainwashed by Urine Godziller X-streaming symphonies of Piss Orchestras, Loud special firewire brews of moist Media, through vine.✆ 1984 Wet wear, microchipped passports, trickle treats whizz, wee, Wazz, wet, WaVe, water, wash, wake, wripples. W = World word Psst.

    River banks steer the currents through waterways. In River banks we trust. ℗Rats live in River banks. Willows droop their stuff, stingers aren’t really a plant. Revo… precession powered by passion fruit, stranger in a strange land wants to start a marching band and march like black ants through winter windowland, waking critters and walking weed garden dig your pardon plant forgiveness foretelling professional cycles seasons greetings bring light and rain to seeds and saplings strange beings with leaves and nectar amber Rumi gardens love and care with predictive prerogatives of the date timespace place pace of Gaia, seasons change flames into water, baths full of rain water nurture life, pond lyf stock and bond water running ripple dribble snow. Cells divide, finns gills and navigation through inebriation bring connexion with environment. Melk Galaxy. Homo sapplyng floating like single electron q-beats: floaters riding a medicinal River down snakeskin streams of healthy clear blood. A vessel to contain memory, a test tube baby. A revolutionary solution baby.I love you all. Good Luck gates, Stour ports. Nine portals “driving storm” to Butter-table-minster. 1776: Starport “licks”. I tell no lye, Its often gauged in a Lye group. Godisturberstourbridge forged keys for Alternativitea. Unlicked lockgates. acrillacked restraint. Daisy-chain makers arms scaffolded. Luckeygate. Rivers banks have her vested interest, opposite, mimicking every bow, crescent, chicane and curve. Who banks with river banks anymore anymoor. Oh shit Diaper backward spells repaid. Pantherina cokeri Cubensis chillin in the “cubehouse” with esculenta hemibapha frostiana excelsa aestivalis phalloides (these are Amanita species) rubescens velosa vaginata. Nu wyne, urine luck, silk Pyjama people of Kritik-tacky Genus. Harmonic Optical Transformation elves. Lung woids

    Condensed occillating octagon node-points.
    We’re impaled upon out points of view. One douzen notes, all of natures vibrating matter, vegetable digital kindness and do-gooding make, the charge. Feedback, from one another. Interacting woid processingsong. Scratching my face, contemplating filling tooth twenty two, next year its gonna be further up River, River rapids dissolve slowly and the rocks repeat like washing machines. Stoned i was smoking Swimming underTOE, looking up holding my nose, trees blurry squinted glosseye frayed glass stream of lights, ouch kicking a bit too wide, frog kick, deep toad breaths, breath flash of blueskytree grain layers of hyperlights, blue rushing waves of light. Ruddy hell Im miles downstram. ↓ Bubble in sand and silt grains mimic my hand, pebbles dashing a rolling my arms sculling figures eight, breath, breath blue greenhouse sky, with a touch of forest, lungs full of River dust. Medicine, up my nose in my ear she everyweir. River Oils for peace. Goodyear was 04. Steal this face? Give me my book back, give me my face Back, Maskbook, Task book, ∄-book, Acid…Macebook, pepper spray and spit from the Ace of face. Modus Vivendi’. Where are your poets. Line em’ up. Oh, and don’t worry, your just the other end of the wick. Its the Deadly Burrough Council dogs that pushed this DEAL through that have to carry the full burden of selling off “Fly Agaric’s” culture of Birthplace. Back through to the Merry Hill COMPLEX, and all the big UNITED SNAKES like DEALS made on behalf of Big Business and international capitalism–at the expense of CULTUTRE, COMMUNITY OWNED “CO-OP Local Exchange and Trade Systems. And with crime, violence, maximum security and fundamentalist MATERIALISM as the social fall-out from this Fake-Plastic Church (The Private Shopping Mall.)

  • Hammock to Hammock: World Piss Drizzle

    Swingin’ comfoot. Come 4th. Cradle to cradle design. Hammock to Hammock. Ham Hocks and Blues. Swing. Swing.

    How to represent the invisible hands. How to learn the changes? Ted tells his wife about his vision of Sixty-four hexagrams along with descriptions of ancient paintings. The Book of tribetable EYE Discs is nowfore presented ear. You must imagine engine it. Grand Uniflyer wired with D’vines code. In/out with a formatted gloss to engage hemispheres.

    The years as a greedy temporal Mandollar. Don’t joke with a hungry man. A Geometric circular chord chart on a slip mat. Time as hierarch-keys. (Sacral, Sacrificial and Juicy fresh). Timespice in your GUCT.

    Narrative time cooking itself into poetic timetom (the meter’s), spun on my platter axis. Ted was in a hypnotic trance for several hours and continued long disjointed dialogues with his wife. Surf a wave-harmonic of his-story in land to shoreline. Two copies entertwinned with a mixer. Mixed drinks and drugs and media. Mixing phase Arcana LOUD over the banners Phase, delay, echo-compression, using echolocation and amplitude and attitude to turn Procession Cycles into images of clocks on bicycles. Etch a tree calendar into a picnic table this summer. Back to Life Back to back to life, back to reality.

    Opoponax on wax, cuts sharp as an axe. Take off your cloths be naked as worms, jump in. NO DIVING. No running, no petting, no bombing, no pushing and NO PARKING outside the pool. Health and safety signs in Ted’s mind read: No embezzling, no in$ider-trading, no cheating, No smoking. No Double standards and double speak. no touching me.

    Swimming my troubles away, drowning each day. Deadley Leisure Services pulled the plug on me at Brierley Hill Baths. Tryed to drain me away. Washed away my words with each stroke and the sniff of the mustard smell of chlorine.

    Iron lung fly. Pushing from the past, pulling into the future with each stroke i am now re-spewed as some kinda’ Chinese written character. In ink dot-com bubbles. Cage me now. Freestylz ill be the breath of me, all open and stream of consciousness. Λwake. Dreaming Λwake of the woidllness, the muddle way around the midday puddle puzzle.

    In Northern California two days previously, Ted Edwords looked out from the observation point of his wife’s blue and red car, moving through the moist nowness–daydreaming and i’m thinking of you–daydreaming and i’m thinking of you–playing on the stereo. Moving with green mountints.

    Whizzing by Ted’s thoughts calmly, calmly tracked his time on the road, two days and four hours, licorice tarmac and yellow stripes stretch along the pathway, melting in the distance, eye-sight breaks down. Its in something, something in GUCT Fli-sight. Meanwhile, meanwhile in the forground the birds switch, swatch and hopoop between Mcluhan’s wires, moving notation, birds on a wire; switching modes. A dance and a melody. Light enters Ted’s eyeball and is dispersed onto his retina, all thats left are symbols and corresponding footnotes. Musical Birds. Sound + Image. Sonogram ideogram hologram. Whatever.

    I wanna money-gram Sam. Half a gram of white wintao. Woosh. Veryfiable in souper-nature. Betcha. Eyedeers communicated to the mind in an intuitive, symbolic, imagistic fashion. Weekly.

    –Fly Agaric/acrillic

  • Turntables and the implicate/explicate order

    Past/present/not sure.
    Vinylcyclic records totally recalled,
    reversed turning of the tongues ➚ Termtablists↑ and
    innovative I-Disk jockey on one hand,
    Sample monkey on the other….

    Read This first.
    These ordinary notions in fact appear in what is called the “explicate” or “unfolded” order, which is a special and distinguished form contained within the general totality of all the implicate orders (Bohm, 1980, p. xv).”
    Implicate_and_Explicate_Order_according_to_David_Bohm

    Unfold your record…
    Place the record on the turntable mat. ○
    Press the power switch button provided at rear panel to “ON” position.
    Remove the stylus protector, if cartridge is detachable one. ○
    Push the start/stop button, the platter will start to turn. (Turntable)
    Move the tone-arm position over the record.
    Put it down to the record and playback/forword will begin.
    Set the turning speed to 33 1/3rpm or 45rpm with speed select switch.

    Singers, drummers and Seal Calendar jugglers under the Sun. Bound to happen. To Bond like crime families. To spin and roll tymespice glyphs into spliffs: to turn word into gas. Our men alchemical our men. No less. Where have your thoughts gone to? where has the Roman pontiff of slimespace disappeared to? Measure the Sun and the Moon and what do you get? Tide-waves. Gema smiles as the tide waves deliver lucifer. Calendar reform. Reformation. When out of information recharge. Retreat yourself. Remixology ingredients ↓ Some S❁ma sits in Li’s refrigerator next to the Ξaster eggs, resting her legs, Syrian rue, and Golden Apples. Myceilium running. Pound of fungus, creamy woolen fungus grown in sheep shit. Bah to coordinates.✐ Coordinates ↵ Berlin 1945. Birmingham 1600. Hong Kong June 16th 2009. The article that started poly calendrical studies by Mr. Wilson shd/ be consulted, for more accurate data. GΩDiturΒΞR the coordinates ➚ to equal 9.9.99.9:09. Testing testing. Bodies well Tattooed with pimples pointing ↕ to veins joining historical bones together to make a man, to make a body of work whole. Ol’e history pressed together on a 78 in 76′ Slowed down and spun backwords. 384 words. Swords carefully concealed on a tortoise shell. Calendar eclipse every hour. Birth life death every hour. Minute, second-line. Taste sweet to taste sour, now and then. Start and Stop. Start/Stop button. But on, always on. Needle drop finds honey August 11th 1999 upon St. Michael’s Mount. Ken Kessey in Great Britain on his bus. 1999 culture blossoms on the tree of technology. Rise of electronic media, culture, festivals, psychedelia. Millennium on the horizon. A Calendar shift. A paradigm shift. A knight shift into the theme from hairshaft Grummet. Bush and Dope, the birthing of the anti-christ in a new jerusalem. The Spandau mystory and the stargate.

    Move the tone-arm to the armrest, when play is finished. ○
    Push the start/stop button, and platter will stop. ○
    Turn off the power.

    Next time, maybe
    Experiment with different speeds.
    Past/present/not sure.
    Vinylcyclic records totally recalled, reversed turning of the tongues ➚ Termtablists↑ and innovative I-Disk jockey on one hand,

    “The new form of insight can perhaps best be called Undivided Wholeness in Flowing Movement. This view implies that flow is, in some sense, prior to that of the ‘things’ that can be seen to form and dissolve in this flow”. –David Bohm

    Hold the balance weight…
    with one hand and rotate only the counter ring
    to bring the numeral “0” of the ring into alignment with
    the center line on the tone-arm rear shaft.

    Waiting for the blootooth storm. Cycling and wurring of Art’s Sunbelts, turning like the clappers hands above rubbing and manipulating. Fingers are burning. DJ/VJ lookingfor a wet BJ. Some hottie to rub out dubs and set Sub keel to breaker breaker. A burnt out Tesla coil covered in mold on the hillside. Creeping fungus up Eve’s 300 ft. axistree. Junglistening and not listening. The Birds. The Bees. ∄nd of history. Young table runts and Little Lab nutters invent new worlds, new time as the Emerald tablets turn like candy mints around your pink gums. Many yarns away. Unravelling the lost lungwaj of tyme traveling shemanism. Vine looking threadlocks require keys to the doors to eternity, The sacred mushroom, please dont get croxx. De-chording results from an aural reading: icaro-graff John Deechorded, unmasking the con-sealed national pleasure of Deception, detraction, contracts and contricks. Laser D’chirp Scribble. A decentral plot to prevent singing or telling the tribe with fresh gusto as the good ale And the good vibe. The brews and their absence from the news. Other than in the context of psychotropicture, death and negativity. Amplified Absynth is sized as the test sense of presence. Da vine de:chorded. Mycelium decorded. Guantummy toms entangle in our G U C T. A fuzzy chord rapped around and woven into whole cloth. Youknitted Superstrings to make the truth. Knitting tales together of characters made from ole cloth. Stitch in time brings vine Flight-sigh Indras net; spider Web deW hosting morning dew drops of star stuff, Fruit of the loomatick, spinning VRmL from her womb. To tackle the big problems i scrape the barrel. Ummm i smell what you mean steve. Identical sacread twinnings…

    Matching, scratching, juggling
    Talking and sound writing machine.
    radio-phonograph combo? nearly got it…
    missing the 2006 bluesphere…
    And the disc/seal/calendoor’s of 08.
    Adjustment of Horizontal Zero Balance

    “Bohm also used the term unfoldment to characterise processes in which the explicate order becomes relevant (or “relevated”). Bohm likens unfoldment also to the decoding of a television signal to produce a sensible image on a screen. The signal, screen, and television electronics in this analogy represent the implicate order whilst the image produced represents the explicate order. He also uses an interesting example in which an ink droplet can be introduced into a highly viscous substance (such as glycerine), and the substance rotated very slowly such that there is negligible diffusion of the substance. In this example, the droplet becomes a thread which, in turn, eventually becomes invisible. However, by rotating the substance in the reverse direction, the droplet can essentially reform. When it is invisible, according to Bohm, the order of the ink droplet as a pattern can be said to be implicate within the substance. —Implicate_and_Explicate_Order_according_to_David_Bohm

    Great Turning, Baktun, Calendar, door, language, etic/emic?
    Word. Turning. Talking and sound writing machine. Etic/emic?
    Bluetooth enabled, ubiquitous broadcasting
    Spyme etic/emic?
    Turntables without cables, with wheels to roll…

    Turn eons over. Nine seal/calendars glisten, KNU dawn. Neinsten. Elvintwelve. 7/7/7 marks the bugining of a KNU woid Weasty beast. I ain’t got no metal or plastic guns i serve my piece in seasoned sensimi buns, plenty advacado for the greening. In the begreening was the herb and the herb was grown fresh. Little Ms. Higgs and her Mayo-theory and she’s good to go, loosen’ up her gob so she can hold down her cutting job. Yo sis what “IS” the prognosis? Isness is an Illness.Cannabis Metempsychosis a Knu cure for the clap? The doc. said to me Thursday it might be Psychoneurosis So i went home and read Pythagorus and smoked super-grass. Maybe psychobiology? eh? or neuro-psycho history? Cannabis Psychosis, Me or the plant that is the mystory? Thinking and feeling are not divided so simply Mankind and nature, mind and matter all bleed into each other n’ ceed one another. Gun-metal tone-armies fire a diamond tipped Stylus, arcing. Sunlight refracting off its tip into a thousand fragments. Snatching the Moon with the hands hand. Scratching the Sun with a finger. Kites! Massager. Pass the Pea soup wash your hands hide your eyes. Surfers upon saturnalia surf bareback. Spun backwords and 4words. Dive in ocean blue baby, ride calendar crafts to naxos. Rafts float paths under the S☀n

    1. Release the tone-arm from the armrest to free.
    2.Turn the balance weight clockwise or counter clockwise until the tone arm is balanced horizontally.

    In another analogy, Bohm asks us to consider a pattern produced by making small cuts in a folded piece of paper and then, literally, unfolding it. Widely separated elements of the pattern are, in actuality, produced by the same original cut in the folded piece of paper. Here the cuts in the folded paper represent the implicate order and the unfolded pattern represents the explicate order.”–Implicate_and_Explicate_Order_according_to_David_Bohm

    And records of the Tale of the tribe,
    2008 Tribe. Remixed. Spew Flesh.
    turntablists compete to see who can develop the fastest,
    most innovative and most creative approaches to their instrument…
    manipulation of the record in time
    manipulation of the cross fader on the mixer
    Newham rhythms and sonic artefax..

    Breakfast spun on a Golden moldϒ threaded platter. Saturnalia with a bite of luck. Kung Fu toast and tea and Blueberry muffins. Huλgens probe separates from ©assini Orbiter. 21 day taste trip to Titan. Christmas TSunami eclipsed by probe. Place the needle stylus into the F-ring groove, Wash your hands, Take a fresh shroom and gently twist the Cap off. Place gills down on a sterile card/glass platter. Cover the card with clean container, Leave overnight! Fold the ©hristmass card next morn and keep airtight. Ziplock it, airlocket and good luck. Happy saturnalia. Sporeprints remain good for a year, blueprints are maps. Tales Tales Tales. ✜ Apple Logic 2.3 tastes strange to me Looks like strange fruit served with Correspun/dance. Alight PUN-danc©e. Didji drivel weather forecasting. Bored network? Forrest television. hello hello. Pomegranate planets with each byte of luck. Artemis scaffolded via multitrack audio interface dialects. Why it noise? White noise. Open chowder sauce trickled beyond the boundAries of bowl. The phλsical boundAries of the Donut. The mental boundAries of an octet truffle. The personal boundAries of a blow-job from your hot young secretary. Conned shaped concepts to pointed precepts ➘ of subjects and, pre-dated predicates ➚ and Kate’s old grammar ↕ Stereoscopic Holographic Prose tools. Listen to me. Forget what you learnt, till your tongues burnt You ain’t learnt. Remove the ceiling! escape the house. Tone arm troopers for Revolution routines. The Prose tools spew is just fragments. It’s all fragments, Bits, chunks, parts, pieces, as yet unconnected and pre-GUCT. And so Hair Combs Everybody. Amrita and all. All peoples from ALL times ✜ ALL places re:unite. Tonight. In a blue tidal concressence, like a paisley, tie-dyed wave. Vibrational physics maps are still maps. Virtual maps. INK as hardwar device deployed spilt and deltupun Sammy-circular shemy-attatched shami-holy playing pages. A Seed looping with hands throwing seeds praying for a root for reality totality to come to me. The I-disco joke plays on random. She cutting and scratching samples on Mp3, CD, connected by her broadtoothed magic fairλ god mother. Janet the sister of Ms. Higgs. Feasty boys on this Apple logik pie, sprinkled with amerinita cinnamon girls. Zappa girls. Hot. Hotter. So hot it rebirths again with a Bigger badder BANG. GU©T: to merge gravity situations with the Trinification of (lang)gauge symmetrees into a Grit Unifie(l)d ©oins℗i®acy Theory of Neverytongue. Higher Crane Everywire. Unified. Undefined interknot of tings and bleeps. Popping candy on the tongue. Habitat, seasonal changes, growth, flowering and fruiting. Who cracked the internut?

  • Silly Psycbergriminister of Sewers

    Running like Mountain river time,
    Pist your town.

    Psybergriminister of sewers:
    A waste of time.

    Silly, sublime
    Trickle slowly through sewers

    Time pollution
    Running out of clean Pacific time.

    Specific Wine,
    Universal time, solar space-time

    Galactic non-standard time
    Slugged back down the hatch
    Down in a dirty underground sewer

    Silly psyberpunk motherfuckers
    Loaded with poems for world war three.
    Cybercriminal Geniuses
    Overlords in the muck underground
    In Burroughs with sly cyber gangster smiles
    Every Illuminati brewing up,
    Ready to feast upon a
    Psybercriminister NOT called
    Palmer Eldritch.

  • Back in the Museyroom. Page 8 of Finnegans Wake

    “enjoyable of our mounding’s mass, now Wallinstone national
    museum, with, in some greenish distance, the charmful
    waterloose country and the two quitewhite villagettes who hear show
    of themselves so gigglesomes minxt the follyages,

    (follyages, folly, fake, calendrical inconsistency, hstorical written method and inconsistency with VICO’ Bruno RAW Pound Mcluhan Korzybski, “Process” of history)

    the prettilees!
    Penetrators are permitted into the museomound free. Welsh and
    the Paddy Patkinses, one shelenk! Redismembers invalids of old
    guard find poussepousse pousseypram to sate the sort of their butt.
    For her passkey supply to the janitrix, the mistress Kathe. Tip.

    (The janitrix sounds like the “Oracle” type figure from the popular Matrix Trilogy of movies. Kathe, Kathe, where art our Kathe? Maybe Pound’s “Cathay” is evoked from the air-sound-power, Kathe has a key? Pound’s seal, calendoor dated from the publ;ication of Joyce’s ‘Ulysses” October 31st, 1922? TIP” on the outside window of the dreamers bedroom, the tree’s finger branch knocks’ TIP. Reminding the dreamer of the great tree.)

    This the way to the museyroom. Mind your hats goan in!
    Now yiz are in the Willingdone Museyroom. This is a
    Prooshious gunn.

    (During my readings of this page for one of our weekly assignments at the Maybelogic Academy “Tale of the Tribe” class with RAW, i made up my mind that “Museyroom” sounded enough like “Mushroom” to grab my attension and make me read closely. I then went on to presume that Mycological terms were being used by Joyce, but mixed up with the more widely known historical war-stars and other war type language, military devices, but somehow de-flowered as fighting machines, and re-constructed as polyrhymic’ seeing devices. Neutral for the most part. But willing, more than willing to assist you in any area of research you wish to pursue, linguistic studies maybe at the least. The future of human language, humanity and our relationships to nature as the other more, exciting and critical studies to be pursuing.

    So my mushroom gloss theory for FW seems rather short sighted in retrospect, but now nearly 3 years later, i still remember my Mushroom gloss, but forgot that most of the references i originally used were grouped around page 8 of Finnegans Wake. I am back at page 8 by way of a commodius Vico’s of recirculation (searching Finnegans Wake on the internet for words and references that help define the new word “WOOt”, the title of a new album by the Jam-band for computer geeks “Garaj Mahal” who i recorded and played with in the United States 2001-2005. The second to top web link that came up when i typed finnegans wake concordex was a link that HIGHLIGHTED the word JINNIES, and when i followed the link i discovered they were spread over pages 8 and 9.

    So now i am back in the museyroom, musing over the JINNIES (the women) woven through the museum sequence like traces of perfume. (The plurabelle hologramic prose’ of Joyce writing of anything and everything in FW)

    This is a ffrinch. Tip. This is the flag of the
    Prooshious, the Cap and Soracer. This is the bullet that byng the flag of
    the Prooshious. This is the ffrinch that fire on the Bull that bang
    the flag of the Prooshious. Saloos the Crossgunn! Up with your
    pike and fork! Tip. (Bullsfoot! Fine!) This is the triplewon hat of
    Lipoleum. Tip. Lipoleumhat. This is the Willingdone on his
    same white harse, the Cokenhape. This is the big Sraughter
    Willingdone, grand and magentic in his goldtin spurs and his ironed
    dux and his quarterbrass woodyshoes and his magnate’s gharters
    and his bangkok’s best and goliar’s goloshes and his
    pulluponeasyan wartrews. This is his big wide harse. Tip. This is the three
    lipoleum boyne grouching down in the living detch. This is an
    inimyskilling inglis, this is a scotcher grey, this is a davy,
    stooping. This is the bog lipoleum mordering the lipoleum beg. A
    Gallawghurs argaumunt. This is the petty lipoleum boy that
    was nayther bag nor bug. Assaye, assaye! Touchole Fitz
    Tuomush. Dirty MacDyke. And Hairy O’Hurry. All of them
    arminus-varminus. This is Delian alps. This is Mont Tivel,
    this is Mont Tipsey, this is the Grand Mons Injun. This is the
    crimealine of the alps hooping to sheltershock the three lipoleums.
    This is the jinnies with their legahorns feinting to read in their
    handmade’s book of stralegy while making their war undisides
    the Willingdone. The jinnies is a cooin her hand and the jinnies is
    a ravin her hair and the Willingdone git the band up. This is big
    Willingdone mormorial tallowscoop Wounderworker obscides
    on the flanks of the jinnies. Sexcaliber hrosspower. Tip. This “

    (A War Museum full of hyperdimensional “blogjects”
    and it seems to me today that considering the coded,
    encoded “ent-twinned” nature of their word “homes”
    these words–through Joyce’s poetic genius–are a precursor to the
    “enigma” type code “wars” that were of critical importance to the world wide wars erupting
    Just as gentle Joyce was falling into his own dreamstate.
    Ever since WW2, till Today, these cypher wars continue
    under many new more technologically charged names,
    Joyce’s Hologramic prose IMHO has stood the test of old father time
    very well, very very well indeed.
    In 2008 a single page of Finnegans Wake can hold various structural
    scaffolding upon which to hang a theory.

  • Woot the fook? the Jinnies and the museyroom.

    If your reading of James Joyces “Finnegans Wake” were to begin at zero years (the new Christian Gregorian Roman type millennium zero. 0. Or 2000 A.D.
    Then, maybe, while carefully reading each day, and dreaming it each night,
    you might, with a bit of luck, got all the way in to page 8 by now?
    In 2008?

    Page 8 from Finnegans Wake is one of my own favo-rites
    Of passages.
    I will first post the full page of Joyce’s work,
    Then go in with my goggles and flippers to flop around in the sea-weeds
    See what treasure i can PULL-UP!

    yours…

    fly agaric 23

    “enjoyable of our mounding’s mass, now Wallinstone national
    museum, with, in some greenish distance, the charmful
    waterloose country and the two quitewhite villagettes who hear show
    of themselves so gigglesomes minxt the follyages, the prettilees!
    Penetrators are permitted into the museomound free. Welsh and
    the Paddy Patkinses, one shelenk! Redismembers invalids of old
    guard find poussepousse pousseypram to sate the sort of their butt.
    For her passkey supply to the janitrix, the mistress Kathe. Tip.
    This the way to the museyroom. Mind your hats goan in!
    Now yiz are in the Willingdone Museyroom. This is a
    Prooshious gunn. This is a ffrinch. Tip. This is the flag of the
    Prooshious, the Cap and Soracer. This is the bullet that byng the flag of
    the Prooshious. This is the ffrinch that fire on the Bull that bang
    the flag of the Prooshious. Saloos the Crossgunn! Up with your
    pike and fork! Tip. (Bullsfoot! Fine!) This is the triplewon hat of
    Lipoleum. Tip. Lipoleumhat. This is the Willingdone on his
    same white harse, the Cokenhape. This is the big Sraughter
    Willingdone, grand and magentic in his goldtin spurs and his ironed
    dux and his quarterbrass woodyshoes and his magnate’s gharters
    and his bangkok’s best and goliar’s goloshes and his
    pulluponeasyan wartrews. This is his big wide harse. Tip. This is the three
    lipoleum boyne grouching down in the living detch. This is an
    inimyskilling inglis, this is a scotcher grey, this is a davy,
    stooping. This is the bog lipoleum mordering the lipoleum beg. A
    Gallawghurs argaumunt. This is the petty lipoleum boy that
    was nayther bag nor bug. Assaye, assaye! Touchole Fitz
    Tuomush. Dirty MacDyke. And Hairy O’Hurry. All of them
    arminus-varminus. This is Delian alps. This is Mont Tivel,
    this is Mont Tipsey, this is the Grand Mons Injun. This is the
    crimealine of the alps hooping to sheltershock the three lipoleums.
    This is the jinnies with their legahorns feinting to read in their
    handmade’s book of stralegy while making their war undisides
    the Willingdone. The jinnies is a cooin her hand and the jinnies is
    a ravin her hair and the Willingdone git the band up. This is big
    Willingdone mormorial tallowscoop Wounderworker obscides
    on the flanks of the jinnies. Sexcaliber hrosspower. Tip. This “

    James Joyce, Finnegans Wake, Book 1, Page 08.

    Reproduced and seduced by fly agaric 23
    2008.

    [p.s only 30 minutes ago did i decide to make this post, i was doing research into the word

    woot’ the title of the new Garaj Mahal album.

    woot the fook, i thought to myself, when i discovered this (Joycean) list, of synonyms…at wiki

    hoorah!, hurrah!
    hoorah!, hurray!
    huzzah!
    whoohoo!
    whoopee!
    yay!
    yeah!
    yes!
    yippee!
    alright!
    OMG!

    woot: “Of uncertain origin, it seems to have been derived from the obsolete ‘whoot’ which essentially is another way to say ‘hoot’ which itself is a shout or derisive laugh. Other sources suggest that it might be a corruption of root, shouted by hackers when they obtain root-level access in a targeted system. – http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/w00t”%5Dwoot at wiki

    “feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes. “–James Joyce, Ulysses.

  • Fly Agaric 23 love’s his pot

    The war on some people who use some drugs

    Seems to me a war without an end in sight, as long as the crooked funding holds out.

    Or as long as the most unknown, unrecognizable drug, the one that i call “Mhoney”

    Keeps the funding in a cyclical motion.

    Its like Vico Las Vegas.

    So take your highs and cherrish them….

    Create your value systems and gather concrete poetry from them.

    Language vs. The Equation
    Meanwhile, the war on some people who use some drugs…
    And the funding never stops…