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Here’s my latest update and interpretation of ‘the tale of the tribe’ is in the form of a google web-site, that I am still editing and readying for some kind of launch. Here’s a recently edited rough synopsis of what I have done with some of the characters. –steve fly.
OUR HISTORYS BACK BY Fly Agaric 23:
Before Dr. Robert Anton Wilson graduated life in early 2007 he shared with the world a tantalizing glimpse into an epic project that he called ‘the tale of the tribe’ (TTOTT): the blueprint for a new synthesis of some of the greatest minds of the 21st century, uniting quantum mechanics, neuro-semantics, design-science, Ideogramic method, history and culture, together into a typically RAW montage’ of forces and values to help others distinguish useful information from all the bullshit. The historical characters or ‘evolutionists’ from RAW’s TTOTT krewe were individuals that helped to speed up the ability of humans to condense ideas and then share information, that has directed humanity into the – information age – and the sharing mass-age. In Our Historys Back’ fly has designed an environment based in 1936 where these TTOTT characters can blend their creative genius and fall into orbit with one another; poets, linguists, logicians, design-scientists and artists meet to share their wisdom on advancing humanity into the 21st century. New creative research into the tale of the tribe aims to open up a new vista of interpretations from the fragments left to us by Dr. Wilson. And this adaptation of Dr. Wilson’s ‘tale of the tribe’ is the first such project, to my knowledge, to tackle TTOTT lineage and place some characters into a new Novel architecture. I hope that this project will at least encourage some of you who are on a similar road of investigation and nudge-nudge – create your own TTOTT synthesis.
Our Historys Back’ features remixed ‘TTOTT’ characters rounded into a tale within a tale by our protagonists. The tale within a tale follows a band of old bards who journey to the 1936 Olympic Games into the sick-heart of the Nazi intelligence games to boldly state their perfected word and communicate their sporting peace to all nations on behalf of artists, painters and poets worldwide. Standing in their way are a sordid alliance of spies from many nations including English, American, German, Canadian and Soviet agents; who have arranged to meet in Berlin to finalize their annual guns, dope and intelligence ‘trade off’
Max, Percy and Plush are three friends living in Amsterdam, 2012, united by their synchronistic interest in RAW’s ‘tale of the tribe’ and producing their own story that includes a culture’s hierarchy of values and histories. Plush has perfected his turntable-altable method of mixing and cutting specially crafted LP’s, that contain pre-recorded samples from the 1936 tale and afterwards, together with Max and Percy, they splice the recordings into dialogue and a dramatic sequence of events. The MPHDJ Method translates roughly as mixing special kinds of sampled literature using the approach of a musical DJ or turntablist.
The 1936 tale spans 48 hours and three main locations, taking place in theatres in New York and Rapallo’ simultaneously on July 31st’, and then moving to Berlin and the opening of the IXth Olympic Games on August 1st. The recurring theme of the story is probably the precept of ‘ language versus the equation’, translated into how the characters share their different fields of experience and wisdom creating a communication network, to help others bring a new peace to Europe through a linguistic relativism, a new language to help facilitate peace and communication between all nations and humanity.
–Steven “fly” Pratt.
28th October. 2009. Amsterdam.
http://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fsoundcloud.com%2Fflyagaric23%2Fbear-full-mix-july-19th-2009& BEAR HOME MIX: DJ FLY AGARIC 23 by flyagaric23
Universe Contains a Maybe. Go Get your self off the shelf, climb down the tube and un-stitch your mouth, weave, come on out, shout out, together now. Truck Censorship, Up. reach out, teleport to Geneva, teach out the peach box, call me the Queen of foreva, teach the furtive fruits from the roots, from the shoots, meditate on the river. Squat. State your ground ground your state. Dive in swim with Me’Eva forever and flock censorships to shore. You add the adjective ending to the Law of fives and Burroughs. Diva dives and rises with a Beat-box to put minds in flux. Break out the prison planet damn it. Walk through the walls Kick out the JAMS. Slam your tongue and have a conscious nice day, day in day out and about, kicking in/out the jams with boots coated in SaTiVa, Shiva Finnevil. Blowing wind melody, laying mellow day dreams with tunes from flutes, living in the “DICE” days. Let the wind speak. Kiss my LPs The Keys. (Burp) the the blind speak (Burp Bap) Embracing change, an open mind with a mic’, Diva eva Allieva the world debt of imagination of imagination. Eva electronic Diva. Get your self off the factory shelf moth flickers!, Time to deliver the way of the winding wynding river. Maybe Nine patterns in nine-four timespace, 123 BPM. shroom TeleTelecommunication fast EH! Fast EH! whizz-bang the peed of soundead. Wholly Chao! Wholly Chao! All along the River watchbanktowers. Un-stitch time with the Maybes of NINE time, Eva herself, yourself, ourselves, minutia of greater organisms. Mini MC Elves. Go DO It Trucking do it! start collaborative writing projects like lightening. We live love and learn as one family, join us, maybe in our non-equation gravy tea room. Wind and stars. Words and lights. Jimmy Calendrix pulls out a lighter tonight. Chimera of Nine Millennium bugs in a boogie, from fertile bogs. Percussive sound wholesome like Clogs. Don’t disturb Eva. Code values 9/9/99, the usual data appears absent. Shut down. Rule Lasagna. Nines to mean shutdown. Rule Lasagna. History shot-down. Who’s the author, who’s the author.
Since way before before History history, from the sky and sea of green tea came the spirit of great Borsky. Tele-ported from 54 BC. Poet bard inventor of mystickle cakes ice cream cakes. Borsky bakes History’s mystery solid to the pan of pun. Leaves scraps for the dog pan. Borsky of the Bong gone eara, days of crazy wisdom, with wit of Banshee and Tongue of tong fu tea. Casting light back out to sea and sky and making the shoes fit snug with a super-lace, knotting land and sky together, Borsky moth flickers! To cross again is not to cross, polite line, do not get cross. Pulling down the sky, Emcee Borsky of the Eburonic Chapter for ‘Pataphysical Research. Borsky To the B Sky Bee Boy Broadcasting Tea tymespicy. Wholly Chao! An ode to Eris and Everyware. Tetra-teleporting slack spyme juice. Borsky on the loose. Ubiquitusk. Tie it up nice to your face. Slingshot rotten teeth bullets to fix the world web. Beat-box the Battle of the French Canadian Bean Field Soup, keep Spitting Maybe debris, phalanx of panarchy. Baba Borsky. Invoking She, and doubtfulness with finesse so slick that it can undress your daughters of congress. Fix this mess, Baby logic can fix this chest of draws. All here now in the room and Borsky will not flee or pee his panties. He stands besides me. Us, on the magic bus, the Maybe baby class of 07. who’s the author, who’s the author.
Toby Jongleur perceptions angular, aerospace engineer, i can make flowers bloom in triangular patterns in the shape of a mouse ear. If i want. Or just sit by the riverside drinking from a fount singing this Lament of a Groan Man. Smoking a Sherman. No lamb just mint. From hour to theur you listen and hear the Bronx cheur from the folks that give ear n’ eye to Jogleur the Juggleur, spayking is clear as a king. Even after a beur or three, or seven other relative Instruments. Jongleur shows no fear of hell nor of heaven. n’J after class. Rah, Rah, Rah! Rest in Discord RAW! Coincidance Hall TJ passes a year in a single tear. Strong heart of a red deer. Smiling in a nation of racial profiling, harmonica harmony for humanica, solar symphony. TJ mossy software engineer. Shaman of the world and your gentle to your mum. Shaman to turn New York into Amsterdam. Bard TJ financier of words, pioneer volunteer for Humanica, joining hearts and minds together. Got cauliflower ear from days playing Rugby. You put the verb stem in, you take the ending out, At the last frontier getting young wonderers into freewheeling gears for the whole worlds rising day, the world premier of the third seer. No Slaves, No Tyrants, No Discord. TJ metallurgical engineer. The nine gods of Egypt descended from eleven. This Sweet story weaves nine stitches in timespice, and brings nine dogs with nine tales up in hods to the fifth floor. See rectanguleur and sleep away with me with that sheep you dimensional meddling little bus stand! Who’s the author, who’s the author.
Figure it out yo, just do the Mathias, figure it out yo yoshi yoshi. Like Hungry DavI.D Thoreau up. Me the math face, X,Y Z graph reads “T” thats “T” time for the staff, Math of the snow on the flow. On your face! Eh! Universe Contains a Maybe. Acid rain guitar moth flickers. Snow like missiles of bass when entering the vessels of the lasagna brotherhood, Rule Rule Rule Lasagna. Do the math in the snow, you’ll piss the test! Do the math like the graph, drink the red Bordeaux, who got the flow? (let me hear ya?) SNOW. Who got the flow? (let me hear ya?) SNOW. Who got the flow? Ra Ra Ra! Yush! (let me hear ya?) SNOW. Who can make it cold, hot however you go. Between your eyes on the dance floor at the disco, Eh! Shake it. Eh! Bake it. you put the future tintz of sum in & you milkshake it all about. in concord with number & person. Eh Eh ” Universe contains some gravy. Me crazy flinging lyrics like Tessa Sanderson. With my Snow hammer throw i knock punks down, Yo, i’m even a CEO of a little picture show. It’s a long way to tickle Mary. Do the Math, read the graph, switch on. Turn on to the Math Snow TV show your face place. On the case like John Holmes. Comb back your hair and drop the gun slow honey, snows gonna melt your mind down to chemical elements, right clown to your little toe, snow flow gets in between every toe and paints it in the style of Vincent Van Gough, a tidal flow of menstrual snow can defeat an empire in one, two, three, lasagna slings. Tic-tac-toe time me and my nine we got game to play. Come on moth flickers, paint up your game theory, do the math, my rhymes a Graph, a Glyph and a spliff. All that is, is metaphor. For burning snow mathias man, fire and the Ice Nine. Time to tell a Tub truth or two. Who’s the author, who’s the author.
The puppet, and the puppeteer. Me and my crew all got a tattoo saying Statutory Apeshit. We are the nine, know no fear. Hard, tuff, Teeth of George Washington, Hair of Kool keith. Listen up you might cat shit. With a copper Aura protecting the flora. Kick out the Jams moth flickers. Me and my brothers and sisters worked our selves into blisters for this life and shampoo. Now we bloom. I got the sauce and the verse noodle, the chrome and the curse, make rhyme tints for the review. ragu, shows you how to break through, with just a gym shoe and a tube of glue, ragu can make do, and now debut to the ground crew the strength of his home brew, ha ha, Ragu can renew the word, undue the absurd with a pool cue. Maybe Baby Ragu can see through the untrue and can subdue the political beef stew that threatens you with Minnesota-style decency. Ragu helps us pull through the intro-verse and traverse the “Universe” (Let me hear the stars) No taboo, all walls to be walked through, use magic fish stew, Oyster stew, kangaroo Ostrich stew. Wholly Chao! Wholly Chao! Rag studied in Timbuktu, got mad knowledge in the bag. Travelled to Kalamazoo to learn Kazoo from Master How Tsu Do. Ragu rhymes like a walking shoe, traveling soul about the world in my black bamboo earrings, reading, writing, daydreaming, sleep-dreaming, pot-smoking, feeding various neighborhood critters, and playing poker. Ragu the Queen of hearts Ragu the Joker. Favorite Student. Fun Uncle. Devil’s Advocate. Unwilling Recruit. Far-Out Friend. Maddening Boyfriend. Diplomat. Bureaucrat. Dreamer. But Who’s the author, who’s the author.
Tsar bright eyes tongue made of blue stars. Coincidence? Synchronicity? Cosmic Hilaritaste? just a taste. Wrestle with Malignant Extraterrestrials and Gawd while still scratching my face. Minjah Minja who bakes mysteries into edible puppets, action at a distance, effects from afar eye, living laws of five, maybe nine till five? Minja telepathic radar, solid as iron bar, tuned in with her super-Dog star, vigilant like a patrol car, on track like a railroad car and her sweet music, the sounds of minja on her old steel guitja. Minja is healthy, like rain like a salad bar, or Sushi bar, or yugoslavian dinar. Government Puja pusher. Minjah knows where what how and who you are. Left her Dogmas at the door. Telkepathic action at a distance, knowledge from afar, star born! Minja no kiddin’ turns out city lights when travelling back through a time hole. Turn you into a granola bar with my verse so far a crumbling strategy, and im just getting warm, waking up sons. aka Puller. Ninjah! Minjah! The words gonna Get Cha! Wife, momma, youngest daughter, baby sister, favorite Auntie. Rah, Rah, Rah! Rest in Discord RAW! Who’s the author, who’s the author.
Nip it, slap it like stand up bass. Come on now snap it on. Snap the beat in the Budd. Shuffle to NP’s beat. Shake it baby. Take it off, maybe. The universe contains a baby in the Budd. When i start to rhyme its like a terrible flash flood, nip it in the budd, dam it. Nip it in the budd Eh! Rah, Rah, Rah! Rest in Discord RAW! When i start to rhyme i go off like a scud, like a scud full of flowers. Yeah Eh! Mixed drinks in my rose garden. Rhyme in the mud, from the forests and the waterfall, i rap for Eris, Wholly chao! Nine’s crossed. A vine-hole to the Year Zero Zeroine. She in the cheese moon pulling it all in like a blog hole. History, that bloody dictionary of fundamental materialist facts incidentally recorded An ode to Eris for the Nine and for Elvis, the spirit of Rock n’ Rolled up gods, full blood Budd, mixed tipsy turvey, little rad writing pad wearing a hood. Everything and nothing are everyware now in a Web 3D spice. So lets milk it with the spirit of capitalism. Massage the udder of all cows. Nip it. Everything has vanished. Gone gone gone. Can you sell emptiness and space? SKY can! Ephemeral beings of deconstruction are eating reality. All of it, allmen. No authority can contain the water Web 3D coming all over you with slime and fluffy poodle fur and some bristles and a pink nozzle cap to paint your puzzle black. Nip it. Tuck it. Go ahead punk. Go find you Relative Instruments. Relative Instruments. Relative Relative Relative Instruments. Who’s the author, who’s the author.
Sweet Flock whore. Dramatic fanatic idiotic robotic word machine comes clean. Whistle Pissing Sonata. Stoned melodramatic agaric. All that is, is metaphor. Acrillic figa it out, axiomatic and diplomatic toxic in high does. Aromatic agaric but toxic. Turntable static tingle taste of Agaric. Wholly Chao! Cinematic stinking Fungus, fun gloss agaric antibiotic, auntie bionic, old tea, drink and be merry agaric, speaking semi-automatic and almost hypnotic toxic, toxicating, intoxicating, symbiotic intoxicating king of beers, and sewers. Turning to Howords Way and Immediate spacetime date tinter technology, lung wordsmanships but bogged down in a war on culture. They put holes in my raft. Hegemony, monotony, monogamy. Sturch choirs in chorus. The Spooks that spiked us? Straight authority figurines. DO Poetry, Join the Battle of the French Canadian Bean Field Souper men. Make it KNu. A stew. Make it brew Ha Ha. Unstoppable. Unknowable. Unthinkable. Your Mom. Love. Sweet FA spray particles of rim. Nine portals “driving storm” to Butter-table-minster. 1776: Starport “licks”. Forged keys. Unlicked lockgates. acrillacked restraint. Daisy-chain makers arms scaffolded. Lock, key, gate. Bow, crescent, chicane and curve. Who banks with river banks anymore anymore. Oh shit Diaper backward spells repaid. Who’s getting laid and paid with aid, who’s the author, who’s the author.
Nonprophet, back to back to transmit the message about how we make a global massage to relax the globe, see through the fake shit, nunsrocket tool kit bag full of witty letter to make your eyelash glitter. Star fragments i emit, cutting at History; a drill bit, turntable skit fleeting in/out, shake it, Eh! Shake it! Eh. The Universe contains a maybe so bake it baby. First take at a Ken Traverse Lament, then flush it away. With Nine here in everyware world always on timespice, fresh like what’s dew to the grass, made all my base hits and reversed profits to fit the feet of prophets, dressed in a nuns gown, the Suits just can’t make it man, suits and brown shoes don’t make it, Rah, Rah, Rah! Rest in Discord RAW! “BUY IT” commit to this HIT, hoof to the record stores and buy a bit of Nine maybe, use this tool kit put my rhymes back together, together bring the weather and colur back, the wooden furniture and garden perfumes, all in the room make it, bake, twist and get off it. Wholly Chao! Wholly Chao! Lickety split. See y’all in the orchestra pit where i’ll be piloting my spit to send waves out to caves on Mars, 12 bars blues, better pack your travel kit and have your expansion bit, double knitting time and rhyme and do it legit, non-prophet. Scribe of the holy writ, allmen! That’s the future perfect pissing tints. Who’s the author, who’s the author.
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Please do not mistake me for Steven Pratt – the Australian M.P. he seems an OUTSPOKEN anti Grafitti tool. Do not confuse us.
“But is it art?
Saturday, April 21, 2007, 05:18 PM GMT [General]
After dealing with bad news in my last blog I thought I’d dedicate this one, to a certain extent, to a news story that made me smile.
Where art and vandalism meet: one of Banksy’s images.
Australian MP Steve Pratt (no, I’m not making this up) has gotten himself into a spot of bother after he destroyed a commissioned public artwork as a part of his campaign against graffiti. Mr Pratt (it doesn’t stop being funny, does it?) had assumed the mural, on a concrete bridge in Canberra, was an “obnoxious piece of vivid graffiti vandalism”. It was, in fact, a fully paid for art work commissioned by a nearby sports club.
The subject of graffiti seems to have made the headlines several times in recent months. Britain’s very own Banksy is now thought of not as a vandal but as one of the country’s leading artists, despite the fact that nobody is really sure what his real name is (it might be Robert Banks). A couple in Bristol (Banksy’s home town) recently sold the graffiti on the side of their house for £102,000; the house came free with the purchase.
Only yesterday he was in the news once more after London Transport staff painted over a Banksy painting estimated to be worth around £300,000. I find it curious that there are no other graffiti artists currently attracting this much publicity. There’s no denying that Banksy is incredibly talented, but is talent alone the reason his vandalism (because, let’s face it, it is) is now worth hundreds of thousands of pounds while other artists work is simply deemed a pain in the neck for your local council.
There is a lane near where I live, in Cardiff’s Llandaff North, which is covered in graffiti on both sides, from one end to the other. Some of it is crude, I’ll grant you, but some of it is very good indeed. It reminded me, in its own humble way, of Berlin’s West Side Gallery; the stretch of Berlin Wall preserved for the quality of graffiti left on it.
Personally, I don’t have much of a problem with graffiti, providing its in all the right places. A giant, airbrushed ‘tag’ across the dome of St Pauls would, for example, be wrong, as would images of cannabis smoking aliens on Hampton Court, or Manga style women in nurse’s uniforms on Stone Henge. But many of the places where we see graffiti are ugly and soulless. The Bauhaus-inspired council estates that we somehow thought would engender utopian communities but instead became dour, grey and hostile have, in many places, been enlivened by the addition of a little unplanned art.
The concrete gullies of the District line wouldn’t quite be the same without the occasional daub of colour to wake you up on your morning commute. And what journey across London would be complete without the spotting of Tox’s latest handiwork?
Graffiti isn’t always “obnoxious”, to borrow a word from Mr Pratt. Sometimes it makes more colourful those places we’ve made ugly. Can there really be a sound argument for preserving just how grim and foreboding the underside of so many bridges are by removing what little colour has been put there?
Granted, there is no place for graffiti in the likes of Saffron Walden or Tunbridge Wells because graffiti is an inherently urban art form. Its home is the big city. But surely in those places it has made beautiful (and I do actually mean beautiful) we should be preserving it, and not just if it comes with a £300,000 price tag.”
“maybelogic” the movie!
ROBERT ANTON WILSON Maybe Logic
The final secret of the Illuminati revealed. Finally.
Directed by Lance Bauscher
Coming May 2006 from Disinformation Home Entertainment
“I have learned more from Robert Anton Wilson than I have from any other source.”
– George Carlin
Winner Best Documentary Audience Award – San Francisco Independent Film Festival
Robert Anton Wilson is undeniably one of the foundations of 20th Century Western counterculture. Robert Anton Wilson: Maybe Logic, a feature-length documentary, is a hilarious and mind-bending journey into the multi-dimensional life of Robert Anton Wilson, author of the Illuminatus! trilogy. Featuring video spanning 25 years and the best of 100 hours of footage thoroughly tweaked, transmuted and regenerated, Maybe Logic follows the ever-open eye of Pope Bob as he penetrates human illusions, exposing the mathematical probabilities and spooky synchronicities of the eight dimensions of his universe.
Features:
Tom Robbins, Paul Krassner, Douglas Rushkoff, R. U. Sirius, Douglass Smith, Valerie Corral and Ivan Stang.
Extras:
Maybe Logic exercises – in the spirit of a zen roshi and the exercises of Prometheus Rising and Quantum Psychology, Wilson leads the viewer through experiential maybe logic.
ROBERT ANTON WILSON Maybe Logic
Directed by Lance Bauscher
Coming May 2005 from Disinformation Home Entertainment
82 minutes + 12 minutes bonus footage * Region 0 * NR * $19.95 (US)
Disinfo.com
Label: deepleaf productions
Catalog#: none
Format: DVD
Country: US
Released: 2003
Genre: Non-Music
Style: Interview, Political, Education, Speech
Credits: Artwork By [Package Design] – Propane Studio
Directed By, Written-By – Lance Bauscher
Executive Producer – Timothy F.X. Finnegan
Featuring – Douglas Rushkoff , Ivan Stang , Paul Krassner , R.U. Sirius , Tom Robbins , Valerie Corral
Music By – Amon Tobin , Animals On Wheels , Boards Of Canada , Cinematic Orchestra, The , Funki Porcini , Ognen Spiroski , Pullman , Rick Walker , Supplicants, The , Tarentel
Music By [Dvd Menu] – Fly Agaric 23
Narrator – Robert Anton Wilson
Other [Associate Producers] – Amanda Dofflemyer , Fly Agaric 23 , Katherine Covell
Other [Best Boy] – Robert Anton Wilson
Other [Camera] – Amanda Dofflemyer , David Allen , Ivan Stang , Katherine Covell , Lance Bauscher , Robert Dofflemyer
Producer, Edited By, Artwork By [Designed By] – Cody McClintock , Lance Bauscher , Robert Dofflemyer
Notes: Contains over 3 hours of material including Maybe Logic feature, expanded interviews with all the featured RAW cohorts, maybe logic exercises, and original, non-simultaneously, DVD-randomized footage of the best of Pope Bob. – MAYBELOGIC DVDETAILS
Special thanks to donacha.
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Please, Mr Blair
(now…Mr Cameron)
Please TRYDONT!
Again I ask myself (in 2006 and 2013)
Trident of Victoria on a
Two penny peace?
Tridents are manufactured
in Britains BOMB factory!
(Somebody call the POLICE!
Quick, a BOMB factory!
BBC News from 2000
on your coat of arms,
those dolphins, please remove them.
Royal Navy Seals
you do NOTHING but ill to
marine life.
And as far as i know,
give a fuck about
real Lions, or seals!
why not spend the money on
clean drinking water,
adequate food and
some shelters?
livingry for the
BILLIONS of people
around the world and
millions in the UK!
who would want to
terrorize them rather than
help?
what sadistic sons of
bitches?
may Poseidon and all the Gods and Goddesses
of the ocean curse
the nuke dealers, lobbyists and M.P’s
responsible for Trident
English ar wydely con.sidered fust modem
Society to develoop swimmin aza sport
And, Poiklitics as a soggy tea bag tale
Ar bin terested in swimmin un’ splish sposhin’
Cashin sports. Riffy Cash scams bore me
Dryland based libconbore politikx
Bourgeoisee yow
Bore me,,,
April 1, 1974: Mosh up a’ former cownty borough of
Dude-ley, with the Burroughs of Alesowing
And flouridge.
Button the market peepull “vote”
With their own wonga tickets
And so them’s with mowa wonga get mowwa “votes”
Inherited, or wage layba produced survival tickets
Ou cares?
Arf soaked public lyke brainbathed fish
Them vaguely aware of the cut in which they swim.
Ar bin golden at the 2012 oilixpix
1837: Fust paddlin comps held in London’s splashing pools.
July of 1967: Doodley con.cill ban yokles swimming in Lodge Farm Rezza
Because… swimmers were becoming obstructions
To boats on the water
July 20th, 1967: Pablo Neruda receives the fust Viareggio-Versile prize.
1987: Teaurbridge floetry Club wus demolishevelled by Mudley Clownsilly
Cuz it wuz riffy, and them replaced it with leisure pond fur blooming 90’s
Leisure and disinvestment indus.try
Very noyse, but unsuitable fur competitive swimuming.
7th January, 1869: furst meating of Amateur Slimming
Association.
4th June, 1901: Ourbridge Floetry Club founded as
Pablo Picasso exhibits his paintings in Paris fur the fust tyme
They feet. acrobats,
Harlequins, prostitutes, beggars, scrubbas and artists.
Deslumber 31st 2005: Untied ingdome giz o’er
Her presidensea ov the Con.cill ov Eurobeen Onyin.
2nd August, 1900: Foundrynation stone of Nowourbridge
Public Baths wuss laid by Isaac Nash.
Bath water come from a well cut in local sandstown.
Annual subscription fix’d at fiyv shillyns
Juss 25 pence, a bargain for a 12 yerolt kid
Werkin 60 hours a week for 2.d in a myne
1939-1945: Towerbridge baths closed fur public due to word war II.
17th May 1923: O.pen air swimming bath med at Stiridge
3:30, 31st December 2005, Brierley ill Leisure Centre
Closed. By DudMetBoCou.
72 con.cillors, representing 24 wairds
Both an electoryall boundary and
A divizion within a horse pickle
1894: Brierley Hill comes n’ urb.an di.strict
Under the yocal yobernment Akt of 1894.
2006: There are 23 olympic sized cuts in the YUK. England 15,
Scotland 4, Ireland 2 and Wales 1.
1 iz under con.struction
At the Merry’ Hell shampooing center
Poiklitics seems lyk a pools lottery in 2006x
An Oilympic Pool is 25m wyd
Depth ov 2.0m minymum
50m in length, while the 25m width
Allows for 8 laynes, each 2.5m whyd
With an extra 2 spaces of 2.5m wyd outside oss rowds 1 and 8.
2.5 x 8 tracks = 20m + (2.5m x 2) = 25m in total as
1896 and 1906, women could’nt participate in
Oilympic gairms cuz…
Baron Pierre de Coubertin eld firmly to the rumpant conservative
Dogma of the Victoryian eara, that women wuz too
Frail to engage in competitive sports.
I lyke competition in the cut. I lyk fun sports.
Yet privatization wud not never ever resalt in tru competition
If a natural monopoly exists wool it?
Your Scrumpin’ our orchards!
Conlablibortive Burroughs talktics:
Slaving urban language Sub-contracts with precise
Gaffers waffle
1960: British conernments Beeching Actx hijack
The costs ov running the British tram system by pullin’
The plug, on what them considered to be unprofitable riffy” railway lyons
Among uver tings, Leonardo Da Vinshe wrote about flow>
Of water in rivers, and ow flow zeffected
By various obstacles in er’ row’d
Ow ya transfurring propertea
From public ownership to private merchant ownerships?
And/or, both/and… transfiguring the monagemint
Of a service or activitea from an arf soaked gaffernment…
To the private pocket secta
Who issues it, How?
Rekkids are set crooked
With some Doodley Burrough accense
1917: S.F.C Motto crafted upon the S. Coat of donnies.
Bridge and 2 gold’n froots,
Gold Fleace suspunded by black Chains of Skin
And Leather Dressing LTD.
Chayn Cable Industries, and them hanging sheeple.
‘1 heart, 1 why’, singleness of mind and
Purpoise. To steer, shepard, pilot, escort, swimmer.
1 pool, 3 million folks. No wey serviam.
Are yow billdin pools in Iraq for babe lovers that YOU liberated?
March 1990: After many swummers protest throughout Thatchers late 1980’s
With signs and LOUD chanting
The grystal Leisure Centre wuz born, twice
Pun historic baths jed corpse
It re:open.ed con.plete wid gravy machine,
Ellefonts, Bond.i beach beats and
A Non-competitive swimming pund.
Will a swimmer be free’d from yampy chains of capitalist slaverewind
When they docked away our baths for them’s private
Pools, private betting and private gaming crackers
Britomartis Triton Leucothoea Posedawone
[WORLD CLASS START QUALIFIER]
Phly jam ambrosiarealized recycled and golden
thread sewing seed nectar
amber honey mead
runnymeade spreading corn seed,
bread money heads of Barley, Up she was
> Up here with her >
sing praises to the fairyest of em all
mickamackamagnus mckennacawley
she, Valley wedge crop protecter,
Mary Mum mag lite the lane’ as we sew sour berry
sweet story
Weave stitches in time and bring nine
dogs with nine bricks in hods, falling into
Adammonscabin-tomb with glory
Oh, with a view, broom and soon resurrectmoon,
honeymead and maypole 1st maypole,
Axis-Ribbon RNA messengers X ted.
Runnymeade wound axistao monday >
tchewzdei Opus focus on Samhain
Iris trees looking fruity
Novememeber meme in the beer,
Brew is all, recall? cauldron ash hazel
smashed potatoes and st. Johns blackthorn banks
of the stour bitter, bites IT bite >
got old of my one legged lightning one night
[Ulerin’s dogstar], fried hens eggs
Googles swishy wet rain
thorthondonna Belle Pure light of bliss >
clear light of piss > Pist >
cycling and verbatoon twisting Yoshi Yoshi you see,
Annaliviannaconda-Coincidance of cuntfairyeez >
Aboriginal sneeze, The teletoldus > Avatar very mush
from the nasal passage of Bill Boggyman. Stuck with Bogs. Sluggish English Eyelashings severed acrillic post fly agaric re:hashing swingset assembliss songs for Womble Lee stadiohm, Chomping-Pion spitting opinion, wheeling a barrow of marrow for tomorrow mathew micheal wrote the motor boat ashore, hairy Loo seat > sea saw margerine door slippy dark cavern rocktomb stinky word heaven, her womb > shavern hayvern Malvern Hill knocker, heaven helps with severn steps and rainbow kisses > Culpo de Dido! refraction and complection with an air of completion, totalitea drunk down and again resurrected wonder, mind on an axis wonder where > who? how spacetime grids adhere to semantic lion trapeze art gallery shows, and Bloody mary cellary summers on a rooftop in Brooklynn, pickin up book lynnnames > reading lennon washing brain with Fenollosa Chinese written characters, i digress, the Goddess alphabet versus and waltzes and dances harpmaster, robutter celt soundsystem. A barn dance three stepping stone, trinitea brew Positron, Electron, neutral-tron and Tommy Tronic tonic Ginius > space invaders any thought vessel, freestyle writing co-ordinates encircle my dome plate, agaric corn tomb wonder broom slide side shooter sharp schmudged jug of ale, golden door nail juice and sprouting fungustus rain forest berry Christmusk smells, mucky single 12″ jungle bells of New York> Mystic biscuits in hand, three ears of CORN, a reaper to bring the year to sing to HER because She brings the Yearning, Gaia > yes Mummer me, me mom, she germinates the seed and dudly sunny gym and sister wordsley all in the sleight, o’er muntinns and lumpost boxes, curbwinders and wind tunnel traps, shops and hops locked off other than cumin out their tups, tap tap, drumstix clatter shockin mastergarment entangle bramble mean’t cement drive 7 whell rainbow bridge constructer, cycling encircle jerk off radio > To Her the season sister, She provides space in silence upon the empty wind, me sixteen feet under in an Oak box, the TOR, Tarot rototation nation on a platter-head pussycrow of Kings, seasons Tailsinn, bard king and priest kraft, Oiye! who stole the priestcraft from My poetic loving brothers and sisters, Awake! Painters and artisanz Frescoz, craft folk sleeping ? when did the political military brute blow their flute and stick their ugly foot threw my straw hoot > livin on root to root word etymology, why fly i be, flyerwhyr fearless phalloides > poetic intoxication and resurrection through a whiff of Whisky Mtea at a funneral rite. Rotaturntable fable sga larger swig and puffed up skunky funk packed Buff Zap Bang Bommshroom tomb and words POP like comc book balloon speak > a new brew > each and every timecountedtrick > cauldrons running cold connudrumz tummuz tammez Japan again a Bran O Bronto Clontarf Pint, Half Millenium Point Crown Jail Escape Dillinger Dancefloor devastation > bubblin brooks and i’m blathering wearing cheynemail roaring to go > salmon and gold rings inside post box > inebriation and evolution get combined through metaphysickness. Flyer self combed and combined with a current natural self soul, in the flesh fly feeds and needs to reflect a higher chapel with wings who singx all frequinoxy waves “My ego” might not be able to flow, kayknee talk of years ago and lost paradise wounded rewound and dumfound land > [nice] but hey, Climb the Mount, spin that wheel, throw the dicebox, spin that Ching! like a Musketear i’m building bridges from Pages 308 Wake longuardness and Canto LVI [Eonochs] twitch would be Livia Live. Live and be born Ze woid is Endead. Go on a mission and Bug on out! Ze woid has bean sproutrooted and organickmickamudpuckpost chrysophrase Photographs are being posted to my neurocortex just now > start with honeycomb beesknees and Dunne cow. Bog and god and good is mud, mudapplication in Lye town, we are the mud people and the Bog was my birth place, fishing for naughts and Nulls in the Pondlife in wellingdone boots and listeing to willingpalayed flutes and reeds grow, vines, ivy, hazel, Willow, Whispers on the wind, still blowing in my childs ear, a thirsty ear for novelty. Pick up your pens and talk tapes and laptops and write till you drop, let it go > out > breath and inhale the Knu woid world and stop the war. Warme. Hark and bezerk! To HER to the wind swept boggy hills and hedgerow chocolate sunsets, dark hedgehog goblynns > black cats muskets and Muscaria trumpets, likkle miniture trumpet playing fairies hidden up my arse, and Hark! Winter solstice > saturnalia the turning verse, Universe turning waltzing zing and Tang tongue Ching Ming mixung Seasons > polyspoores spin enlightenment and water willowyellowcups scoop up bits of the painting, like they were scooping out the arcylick paint OFF the surface finnish, of the picturepoem painting hanging and SUNG. Mao M Men and Mountain but Mountain is Femminyne and Nayme is not the thing, name games the name and i wear a turbine tripple jet thrusted plant of powerflower Amanita on my Avant Head-band. W and water, women, wet words, water wave and wow wee wet and water running dribble > just a pebble in the W Wave weather solution, weather waves wash windy ways > weather waves wish womenwater babylogic whispers > whichever weather storm you form whichever witch wicker winding window you OPEN. Witch side of triplicity Goddess WWW and a wild world women with witch wound wood waterbaby yes, with W “Eye” insectarian > wish water and whatever is called “NOW” seems sewn threaded and knotted helicked and locked keywhole hologramick nick knockqueenox hide and seek week strong semicircular solution > crescent city Whales, equals W. Look at the Word. W has the meaning “Mountain” in Chinese. W’ has the form of a ripple or WAVE pattern in nature. W doubleyou Yoshi Yoshi, slug helix longridge lungwitchway pathgraph painter > sandwhich with witch wonderful wild berries, deep purple plum jelly fly wave. [hello] grapefleshwhine Time wave weaving and woven wooly jumper jesus fruits. Four goldred leaf book-bound to happen, bound to Dover, bonded wharehouse nation > Bluebirds stenciled in white chalk canvas, “UP” letters burning off walls, Lords of Hyroglyfeetea letters wait. brewing mandrake, henbane, Egyptian blue water Lilly and John and jove the ship to Venus. She waves her wrists [goodbye] and whispers wunce more > illson illson and illson, Colynn, Pether, Rubort wyde web, witch words can you put 2 WWW that equal meaning as heavy huh. Huh. All words and language came from nature.
Graves and books of trees awake yes. This is a fact that i believe more fundermentalstylistickly each day, a tree ooger you might say. And yet…. documents on scribble printed trees hold nations to their knees, embargos and Public policy spelling politicks on goldplated pogo stix, jumping loons in the Senate > i sinn it Live and i’m sad. Leaders driving diamond studded Hummers through slumms, Billion dollar drum rolls and Footballshit diversions, excursions and expensive executive “manager” “get your hands in another pie” > type fonts > roman gothic, Roman catholick, Protest and Christ Buddha Krishna who was Finn? McKewl, all of em? Non-local yoke yoga Joker > hologrammummy god of word woid webbs to come > thighs to make you cum > brumm, sings to come again > woid birth in poetic hemisemi Tombs of Mind, resurrected in Egyptian Ceremoney rites, high row-Micheal-Glyphs > a boat a shore a sure, Books (shored) Beat generation armordoor > banging drums with hyperspatial chizelpod pens and grizzly Blues songs from deepforest telle eve classics > yes musiq revolution > arts and crafts yes! use these rafts avoid drafts to war > birth your craftyraft down a river runnymead valley > I stopped the revolution because of seeing lice eat their own litter, and for em eating their litters in Europe > These raps are rich beehivecuzz Ash willow Birch Mapple Apple Ayahuasca and blossomly impossible facts in
masked bandit brains shooting “word” signifier punditoes > pot twisted turntribalism spun and flung to the net, For peace! web weaving wave carrier jump net jets > a rewinding Dj fly agaric mix tape from 1996 [it’s happening again] and it’s why Hip Hop sucks in ninteysix, In 93 “Quest” vision bass and drumz > metalheadz turbines rolling, Spindle tape trooper metalic wulf-town industrees turning metalicka smoking wen-stax of waxtribal-steel revolving wheels, seal/calendars hubba bubba buddha mandala twisting > steelbridge and Millingham, Cow turkey baconham farms, Pembroke and Pendragooknee fixed up Council statements > wounded Dudley silent but cunning and all spinning spun fragmented breakbeats, Winstons “Amen” breaks and “Incredible Bongo Apache breaks” Hopi, Zunni, Breaks and Windjammer Hops hip brewed into Muscaria holotrack titles > goole eyebulls into top lids, kick hat snare back2back, get High High and ride the metalick wave of the future tech synth sample pitch shift dub wize digital rising mechanic army of breakbeat poets, who can call digital trax organic? new fragmented DJ chops into Occult rootriddim manuals for constructing KNU vision-age earth city spaces and Revolutionary booklights consisting of Muskatears Wake/Cantos Page 308. [shudder, what deadly loom] Look at the Musketear and Figa Acrillic turntable technique > beat diggin waltzing curryspundanced > book digger twisted Ill figa [Waterwave Mountain peach blossom buzzom snuggle nozzle puzzle rustler uppa], on the mend and round the corner philosophicalla muscaria, not jokingjumping jesus-Buddha up brother and sister Isis, Pull over you Hindu Mudslime, Gather Horus Limbs > Indian American and Indian Nepali mixture > rice and X Box. Weeping Camel and SUV donut turns > bad bwoy fuel consumption down the local mall > Non-local all of it and my text jumping for Joy, seeing the Tree names appear Oakyland is like Willow creeks > winding puzzle games, calendars, and bug in the beginning insectoid wheels of fourtune, spinning for gold, the 3.14 ratio, spinning for Gold for the decad Pie thangaurus, 1 2 3 4 Decad, a three hundred-fold novelle, cabballa fares are high this moth throat Lamb > transfomation and Chrysophase vision seal calendar [insert date of revolution here] and give woid Ze end > birth Christal balls and talk of corn barley curly haired Goddess. YES > She the muse always to her, the seasons only turn when SHE reaps weeps what we sewn up, fly stitched into her womb> her electric field of corn powered by the SUN and Bucky Reich Tesla knu her Zeropointed ears and Rabbit whiskers Jumping through the corn fields pesky lice nittle nettle clinker sprite whisp, slippery toad shit, witches pussycat of mischief > justice stewing in a cauldron [the side the side is opening] and i’ll fit Mcbride, Yeats and Joyce inside > Lo! calling the DEAD poets society, self preservation is not of THIS nation, freaky jazz improv poetree born acidead > and died wild as Courtly lovepox, and wired like Courtly TV, trapped by TVangels entagled mangled meaning, Meow > i refuse to battle you, OH TV. [bows] Vision i have and vision eye hold to cycle bicyckle meanings on 1001 cathodelick ray channels in Arabic, French, Eyetalyin, Jabberwooky-ish and Poetrash talk. The lost language of messiahs, Ode to JOYCE and pitched in every voice and sub species at hand/mind/process > the roots of the trees and the organic WAVE double Dublin Dub plate vinyl slang heaped ply over ply, stax of wax over sealed dub plate sovereign Amanita pressing. Sung aloud! I’m bangin techno into shape. an ornette bell, rung and attracting strange songblows, wrong write, wrote murder slander and gander goose loose stylez, free and easy come flex with me. still, fli-book acrillic breaker of vaults pole vaulter of faults to reach six trillion vaults and blasting humanity into space with Stilts to help traverse the unknown freestle verse coindance and concressing convergence chance game of tarot cards, spun and gamblyn bards, throw down shards of street knowledge respect and realism, spinning wheel of rotamotor turn tables tripple transverse goddess fables Amaneata i told ya.
Eat the authority and Lick the church yards, make meters squint into Pookaseconds, coming nanosecond > take a peeko into Vico and snatch hatchlings or eggs of easter up and up to HER rizzinn hyperboreans, “bard Symbolist Gurrilly tonguetolojisters claiming the isle and biological diversity and “Knowledge wit wisdom and courage” from each University waltz and Surrealist collage marching Celtic fairies > out into bottle ink stainford. Letterplates and Gutenburg shields held high > wielding song of life, Mantra 357. Mamasutra tell the tales of twisted stein-space, I and I jah rastarotaturntribal bible for the Grey race to heaven. Finn agains racing and singing to birth itself, WOID’O garick > to birth me Genni out the bottle, running Horsecattlesheep powa PO! Bon morning, resurrection through the O’ penning of the Month > Open agape abyss Lenny Crevice > are you gonna go my way > Openning the Mouth and Spattacluster galaxy claus > Jesu Spiritea Santa Saturn Satanickle sickle Spinn electron Tommy Cubehouse 21st Seasons Winter Sol [The S” mystery from FW] Sun still stice, styx sister Mother Sleep, re:seeding but FORward not like Hair re:seeding, backerds bastards Lords, Solar phallic jesus “Egyptsea” Dukes Kings and mudslingers. We roll in it and get dung on our torso, shrooms grow like golden snow from my armpits, work down the coal pits thats what my ancestors do did daddy day do i guess. Searching for relics of energy, Arthur Scargills, bulbous skirt, garter party Labour red and white, Britton and the Union jack shit Buttons pressed Pressings dairy seal chocolate biscuit eshucteaon tallon and Lion in my closet, a Princess in my bed, a nation dribbled out my nose and onto her pillow, and still She [not Thatcher] she of ALL England, Wales, Ireland, Scotland, California, New England, Europe, Asia, Africa – Even the Silver space Anita Dianna Dog bitch speckled show Puppy pillowspeckled constellation behind the sun > still here golden ration in my eye, divine proportion, like a Porche slick and shaped to interact with wind, rain, gravity and Rainbows > created to remind us of union, multi coloured therefore, maybe incandecent > gentlewoman, Her the hill, Green man and Golden fleece women [bark of the Yage vine bark] female trees, the Ent Wives. Vine of the soul [organic biological free global internet wet soggy noggin overcoated broadcast reception projection process] Nanotech pilots climbing inside of her buzzom, surrealist lovers and beauty speak engineers, queers, wild bezerk Prattle cattle of Love forces, and spun versus, turntable slung over camel, dropping Humpty after Hump hump, rump rattlers through Sub bass Saharan Terrain, through swamps of Siberia Amanita Musketer spins Koryak rhymes and Eyecarowing tales, Shaman songs from welsh hills, and Poetry Whychbury [to be learn’t] and tales of trees and prattle between word word nature and mother natures a whore > said the shutgob two the head > supra expanding ego head, inflater scriptor self templehead, Mouth full of tongue fairies [aggaloopingwinezephyr] and leaves covering my gentle tools, i await further instructions. Momentarily, and then merrymount around again alternate currency side swing > i swing pole to pole mayday to halloween and back like flydermunth > in search of bridges to transport ship mates and shipping penmunth Bards over here, to my shore, swimming together > Out above the law wall, Pen in hand, bioinformatick tracked and skirt circuited > dictionary in fragments torn to bits by Jimi Mugcoffinlynn shreddy wheat licks from my fingers, electric ascension chordx Music the vehicle yes, twelve the key, twelve the vibratory keyhole for spacemind holyday everyday,
Timewave water Mountain wet wonder moist soggy sloppy condensed plaster scene, casting forms taking shape drying off, hardening condensare again, a new form fragiles and getting tense gravity HER Knotted wisdom braids of Dublyn Helick Elix helix E’ Her, Helix and looks tasted twisted Double strand X-Y spiral tribe down/up across vertical Hurryzonetal Zeropoint axis Zero, Time wave Zer Waterwavewishing Washing wells circle thrice and spin three times > waving arms and singing Maypole charms, Dharma Bums cheecky rose red, rising dawn, golden Mushroom dawn come join me i have nose manifesto, Rudolphinn the Dolphin maybe my Motto and merlin cave maybe my grotto, religion is horse speak blotto, Ramblings of a Drugged Horse on K. OK then, hault tanks with tankquillizers > test me timewave twisted tongue Lung trickertape unwound udderground overstated state of mindlyness, you however are also in this river reading swimming grasping at logs with me, grasping at reason like frogger jumping across the spectrum 48 K abyss of meaning, 8-16-32-64 bit Liebiknitz King when it happens = revolution, magic, cards, books codes cyphers and fly agaric toadstools providing Stools for poetworm spiral nested systems sagas to unwind and unfasten hymselves into Carrol christmas Dogdson golden section dawning bagpuss yawning, and Pink/ white and grey colours bouncing around a fluffy candy cat scene. Early morning animation of a nation, a seal calendar realized and theori sed moment to moment through potree Maryjane! my love bringing ambroasiarealizations of worlds in collision, a Burrus Language Virus out of cuntroll, an Outbrake of Terror [stop] and Christian Dogma traps set like cherchjelly. Daniel and the Lyons mediaspherical den, impossible to escape until equinox locks unfastened the Waketoes code exploded Internet wireless worldwide networked and just two texts X and Y JJ and Ez > I’m off to bed agen > dreamcatcher world webs and spun doctors pundits and collaborative “Square” Mason Egyptian dead talkin Society preservers of Jam logic > all the natural elements amino a meaning acids, and four chemical keys to super cosmic threaded wovern ladder snake shape dubblyn he lick keyhole lazy twist Golden spiral DNA postcritter. Einstein plus spiral equals: cosmic superimposition. So take UP! your marks! Quarks and get set. Ready flow. Toe to toe. In the Mu mento, forget to knot tier, forget me knots in my hair, my pubic hair has signs only me and my lover speak of, HER hair golden ringlights telephone chords coded and Vine like, skyladder Buttersmooth conditioned skyrope > a portal doorway ascension bliss Stellar regional favourite, foreign legions of star spacetime surrealists pist presented and foot sure, walking and waving arms, legs, and kites flying ideograms signiflyagarik > Red with
White spots. Spotted betty Boop handbag
hags, Santas Outfit, seat covers, the Devil Satan Santa
Jesus.
mummble bummble
hummble
golden bow [bows]
name-a-ste.
Fly
Hero’s and Mad Villains
Flystyle point of view. Knu. revolutionary. Everychanging. the I Ching sings us into the new millenium from the old one millenium. Piccaso, Dali, George Orwell and Robert Anton Wilson define our times. For me. Times turn tables over and around, and mines a short story. fly agaric the long and short of it is a litmus test for gyllibillyg tea. How can i begin to write my story my poem without flowin. How can it be a race if the times up, how can there be any rules if they are not updated by I Ching. With non-action no-mind and no war we can all score goals. Freestyle points of view might sharpen you. Or stew you and screw you around a shaft thread needle eye and round the loop again, loopy is true on many different levels of magnifiction, but also true on many chronillogical magnifictionx, where time gets twisted and tales get lifted blown sky high and the class get a whiff of what the horse just did and yet i guess if shit were roses we could get away with such a dark trick, such an evil example of casting spells, casting words at the reader whoever they are and whomever they are becoming > but, no doubt just behind YOU and them > everyone is coming! like a new faucet got turned on, like the bandwidth just square rooted Google-bit or like a Tinderloo curry powerspray barkin at the toilet! Here runs everyone, skipping and holding hands, the children at first and then everyone joins in > skipping again happy and on a great adventure like the ones they used to flow on as a kid a likkle nipper i remember playing superman and dressing up in my cape, and running and saving things like my tonka truck the once about to topple off a shelf,
my Evil kenevil bike about to get crumpled by a kitten mitten > Eye remember saving an entire city of ants > million of them under attack by my dads hot water, and i managed to save a few……even though i knew – while they were running with carefully square-cut pieces of leaf material in their gobs – their home was obliterated > I remember when i woza ladd > when i was Batman aged five. I stopped a crime gang trying to get at my dinosaur cookies in a stolen Police car belonging to Ko Jack and then, at once i remember racing my tinka cars around the living room carpet and along the complex roads and pathways created by our furniture, the TV, waste basket and various plantpots – in synchrony with “The Italian Job” – which was playing on the TV. i remember the leyland mini’s racing through the water with the gold and the Great Train Robbery and all villains who were sometimes Hero’s too or, at least, they interchanged often enough so that you didn’t get to spooked or carried away with one side or tuther. The Hero or the Villain were differentiated because they appeared on Television, and they continued to change, some change each episode, some change each week, some would take on new characteristics each month or season and change. Characters would give birth to whole new shows and spin offs or change off’s and model toys which i could buy at the shop down town, or ask mummy to get for me. Change was a constant in my favourite characters from my youth, that’s why i now love the I Ching……its better than X Box! sez”Fly agaric 23″ The Hero and the Villain kept changing and morphing like a secret agent, or maybe it was that a secret agent was changing the TV programming behind the scenes or was it the lsd this time? in this case? am i in Gotham City. X-avier? Livia? huh, and then they the spook programers would start to make real films, reel ones like the proper ones mum and dad watch, the ones about the real world you know the ones… and about what the really real people do, where Harrison Ford, Neo, The Godfarther and Hannibal Lectur are all real people you already knew that didn’t ya. know. you did? n’t?
I know this rap because i have already met some, dreaming, beaten them and eaten them again and again, i did this when i was just five years old. Now looking back and cooking up retrospect into a brand knu retro brew i drink and see visions of my superself stew > realized as a child > magnificent wonder child brilliant and outgoing goal oriented and with a name to come > and so… i want to rekindle it, i want to kill the bad guys, save the girl and save the truth and save the whole world by being brave, following my heart and instinct, being a man and standing up for what i think is right, just, best for everyone, based upon scientific research and good 21st century thinking but > peacefully and without violence > unless it is a poetic violence of course in which case its just another taboo subject to assassinate! and the beat goes on > and i write from the hilt, post and i tilt the whole world 23 n’alf degrees because see these words that i write they are my almighty effort to roll the dice of Einstein and great things are within them if you just got time to pick em out, in these times i doubt more than 20 people would read this far into a blog, and then get stuck thinking about who and how and the whots and the wheres and the ? cares and who dares spare a moment never mind spare a dollar to look into their OWN ignorance and sit back and then holla > Fly Agaric 23!
its you it’s you [echos] after all this time now i see and now i do know what you were saying about the new language, ergo ego the reality sandwitch the illuminatea and the blue beings of light from sirius star system sirius i’m serious not delirious they follow us > they are CNN they are NBC and BBC they are after me > They are after the truth the scoop the next thing, the next beat the next song with which to scribble out the meaning and replace it with double speak, thats double speak! Dubble speak > like the speak from the brilliant Novel 1984 by George Orwell and whats more creepy is this newspeaky easy is everywozznt throughout the mediocre peach blossom rose shit > like a VIRUS it creeps down the aya who aska? wires in your own fucking house right now it’s growing snakes slide not ladders up ascension glide but falling down into your money seed bank screen behind your eyelids, TV > forget about it its all behind your eyelids, radio whatever its all behind your eyelids > go see the Buddha. and its not getting anybetter but please don’t sweater i’m here to help, slave whoops freud slip i mean save >
Renewl fool now slither fly drool if i’m wrong but i’m not wrong i’m write hear to bring news of a new calendar called YOU, pick up your talk tapes unfasten your tongue twisters > the whole worlds on my shoulders it seems, and i breath fire and mold boulders with unfastened lightening one-bolt rhymes, two times three times me got so much vine my tapes is grapes > and i rub one out for the treble and two for the bass come on three and four all of em, so i see a virus a dirty horrible peaceful mixed bag of mixed signals, like the Hero and the Villain spillin down the vine of your soul, your families soul, the soul of your own children and their children’s children, the Vine is out of control. Stop! the serpent of CNNBBCNBC from cummin any closer to my kids, behind my kidlidz > help me i have the snake in my gaze i have the cathode ray school of secret agents on my fishing hook and it feels like theses conga eels or something else…line just snapped. yes. The Villains are not only in government but Holywood, my I-Pod and almost everywhere i look since reading Basho. I sprang from nothing for no reason without space, without time even for you never mind me, without temperature just empty nothing, just voidness, the pit of bottomless nothingness, no atoms, not even electrons are here just no reason and some spaceless featureless anti stuff, but we will call it > the big bang yeah pull the other one, my names fly agaric and i’m a maverick. Threw a brick through the whitehouse window with a message for the president it said “lie down on the floor and be quiet” – a legendary poem; a joke and poke at violence the world inflicts on innocent terrorists Dali.
Maybe if we all become surrealists NOW then we can crush the evil of good and get the show over with and start this new age i keep hearing about in my dreams and catching a little bit each time i awake, its about a future where scholar mystics have developed a new language based upon 21st century scientific research and correlations between comprehensive honest findings rather than the usual government faith based paranoid deception dogma and corrupted ideology. Why are we standing for it? I cannot any longer – i threw my TV out the window and took up the ancient art of I Ching. Eye recommend it, especially when compiling ideas for blog entry topics and further ideologies. imagine the kungfusion when the President finds himself reading the I Ching and adopting it for his people, do we have enlightened people or, do we have psychopaths with a new book? a new idea to trample upon? another target to wipe out? another group of revolutionary thinkers to smash and discredit while they sell debits like its creditz tsa toppsy turvy whorld out there > and its based upon how many young children they can kill in Bagdad or Kabul or Vietnam or the next place on their list. Them being the worldwide corporate armaments, pharmaments and language virus pushers and Empirical maniacs > if you search for peace, enlightenment, understanding, gratitude, forgiveness, kindness, caring, luverlyness, openness, sharing, togetherness, friendliness, compassionateness, carefulness, humbleness, gratefulness, nessynestness > what you project you reflect and subject to the object of your precept. ion your concept to your pants constructing, a very large conducting wave called “life” timewave or the octave of energy has a very very wild freekquency and fluctuating wave length. From small to large would be one way of putting it > faster and slower > fatter/thinner > more or less Eye do obviously but i’m asking the teacher here “hey, wheres my public omnigraph that goes from light into matter? huh? or the one that goes from ultraviolet to glass? ”
huh, is it because the elemental categories contained within the pitiful science that terribly holds these I Chingwaves or these moment to moment “jumping NOW’s” ? Who or WHAT is gonna prove anything other than what the I Ching already tells us every conscious moment? i mean….if you want to get into books and rhetoric or any of that silly kind of stuff. Painters, musicians and poets [artists so called] have known this for years and now its time for YOU to join US. The audience must climb down off their kitchen breakfast stool, get out of YOUR living room and off that couche. Change the world Damn it. With processing and with knuw questions, revolution in the minds of the people > it must be a massive uprising of conscious average-everyday people, full of love and joy and community – to birth this new age this new world. I am guessing you will need these prose tools [in progress], these maybelogic tools to start your communities and please > don’t be afraid of the China person. Don’t be afraid of the brown man or the green man/women. Greet them kindly. Please Invite them to join the peaceful gathering of tribes or, be slay’d by the waring bullies and megalomaniacs trying to literally take over the world outside their own little eyelidz – imbeciles. The unlikelyhood of there being a singularity is a rare thing, even in nature – featureless, spaceless, less and less into the anti, the no-thing.
But i rhyme on like a madman in a burning tower. My science not creditable but DNA see behind your eyelidz. DNA requires singing dancing and the tale of the tribe, but it was stopped by the horse people, when we left the cows and their dung trail and found horse we found trade, but this rhyme moves the horse to other end of cart and then turns it back into a cow. Mu Mu Big Bangers splatter all wet imagination = steady state universe of June 16th 1953 we are moving towards singularity and there is a transdimensional object at the end of history like Mckenna said, and it’s casting an enormous shadow, pull us into human history wack story > it has turned out for me rather violent and unfair i mean look at the news man…… i’m very dissapointed at the Big playas playing an unfair game > stole all the best cards, left us with nothing but words, so here we go, eat this yellow snow yo; megacomplex 21st century sense factory, like a fake dollar manufactree i’m setting up for transformations like nothing ever happened or seen or whitnessed before. seen > my mother > biology she’s in control of this…weather machines ha, don’t take the piss out of my mum like that, not a machine – a lye; a false reason; a reckless test of a weapon.
A weapon that becasue of its definition just blew up your chance to join and hold hands as we sing a new planet into being, individual parts we all play, we all sing at different times but together mega vegetable mind resurrection, plant shamanism has returned. Lost until now victim of degredation, media mangling theological entanglement and priest crafty motherfuckers. Ergo > Ego is like a cancerous growth, like plaque, like colesterol and it need regular dissolving, in my maybelogic opinion. Unless regular boundary dissolving is practiced every new moon or so, if a trip into the brazen Hendrix dreamsilver bus sticky readybreakfast glow and into the boundless intentionality, the buzzbomb of nature and cult of intoxication and wild sex orgy, wild like Courtney Love. Every full moon fucking and drugfeast in the streets, all getting dunged up on shroomz. Everybody havin a cow moon, a cow man. everybody becomes their very own captain cave man. Dissoving their already tiny egos since they tripped just 2 weeks ago into an empowered communit called eastwestside Eden “heart of mother land” desertifiction conference in Africa the cats the cradle of planetary diversification grass lands dried up and mushroom fests died off until now, today here i preserve you, in a bog a blog like mead, a blog of preservation rhymeazone solution, preserve a shroom for humanity! domestication of horse instead of keep following the cow and NOW look what you did with that Horse shit, i’m talkin Toad shit or cow shit depends how you wanna look at it. Cow dung shroom to Horse shit beer to the wheel to agriculture to plunder and the
NEW WORLD ORDER typical male dominace pillage of natural resources, subjugation of women and denial of connection to goddess “Dr. GOEBBLES NAMED REICHS CHANCELLOR Surprise solution to leadership problem by Partei Committee. radio speech viewed decisive. Berlin crowds cheer. statement expected. Goring may be named Police Chief over Heydrich.” [break] “You know what he’s done, don’t you? He’s taken the best about Nazism, the socialist part, the Todt Organization part and the economic advances we got through speer, and who’s he giving the credit to? The New Deal. And he’s left out the bad part, the SS part, the racial extermination and segregation. it’s a Utopia.” – The Man in the High Castle by Philip. K. Dick.
