DEEP SCRATCH – TWO

If Marty McFly were a DJ, and went back to 1936 to stop the war by hijacking the Olympic Games: Wax To The Future.

The video, or chapter, whatever, has this one character who’s just staring right at me, through me like I was glass, while my digital mum watches with her mouth agape. My queen. Mumu. Time flies like a banana when you’re having fun. So, I really believe this new video about the new pack will put the universe a little more at ease.

CUT TO: James Joyce in Paris, squinting at a poster of Giordano Bruno’s memory wheels: “Unity of being, there,”.

CUT TO: Peter Sellars playing Ernest Fenollosa on a broadway stage, he’s advising president Roosevelt on policy, drawing huge ideograms on the white house walls, trying to teach the idiots some Japanese language.

Please feel free to comment above as below. Also, thanks for reading with me. My name is Plush, and I’m not doing this lightly, it feels good to say things I’ve always wanted to say via TribeTable Dialogue.
“Chess, I want to make a chess bot for Turing.”

Tales spun from consecrated decks using magical discs. Percy, Max and I will build a narrative and honour Kurnehrim. The reader will get a feeling of what has come before. Ready on the left? The main story, or A story I guess, is about how it would end, and start again in 2012.  I use Kurnehrim carefully, he, she, and it. And now, a million follow the groove, and cut their own pathways to other worlds, and so shake the walls of the city to the ground.

That man lives in the dream, in our scratched and rusted world. Kurnehrim. (neologism?) We will follow the groove and become the legend. We will, with luck, be seen as we were before, innocent, naked, fruity. With legends like Kurnehrim on our side, we are legion of mystery preserved. Perhaps we will serve him breakfast in his dream.
“Plush, drop the Kurnehrim shit will ya’, it’s just nuts,” Max said, waving his hands in the air to try and stop Plush who was deep diving.

The legend will change if you wish it, that can be done too. Kurnehrim does not push or pull. You, the new man, and the new women, and the new trans-human are intelligent persons. Kurnehrim walks tall. Do you think artists are lazy beggars? If you wish, you can take the place of the legend, pick up the pen, put down the chips. Get those cuts down, and practice.

CUT TO: William Butler Yeats and Ezra Pound each bite into an egg sandwich, some yoke drips onto a book: “The Chinese Written Character as a Medium for Poetry” by Ernest Fenollosa. Next to the yoked paper is a work in progress by Yeats titled: “At the Hawk’s Well” still damp,  and dated 1915.

There are no words to describe the number of things I wish everyone would know about me. I’m a lot of different people on the page, this book is my family and you dear reader are my friends. I will never be what you see in the videos, no matter how I try, you can imagine the type of person I am, warts and all?

Plush looked at the slogan pasted on the huge billboards, “You can’t get home”. A tall man holds a sign in the street that reads, “We have a right to be here on Dam Street,”.

CUT TO: Marshall McLuhan writing in his study, “All the mechanical aspects of our world seem to probe toward self-liquidation”.

And so the protests happened, and reached the ear of the police, the second group on the march tried to leave the city when an officer asked, “where did you cross the Dam street?” The group said that when the other protesters started dancing on the corner like Mick Jagger and David Bowie, that’s when they crossed over, not to be associated with them. The police were threatened and asked to stay the out of it. Another policeman takes charge of the scene until things turn weird, and he is arrested by a higher ranking officer, simply for not wearing his uniform properly. The riot escalates and attracts the usual idiots who just want to break things and cause criminal damage.

A thug throws a house brick through a front window, which crashes onto some turntables and mixer, smashing them. The thug takes refuge in a nearby apartment complex. A police detective arrives on the scene and arrests the thug after refuses medical attention with the words: “Fuck off back to your own country.”

The second day of the incident is like a blur of soggy dream fragments. The thug is charged downtown with breaking a window, and damaging equipment. The next day, the thug shows up at the Crime Office to get a loan for a new house. A lawyer walks by and noticed the thug, and kindly offers to help him out with some directions. The lawyer offers to drive with him, and the thug accepts her offer. They speed off with Coldplay playing backwards on the car stereo due to a tape malfunction.

In Germany people were attacked with sticks because they were secular. In France, a riot erupted in the Muslim quarter after a video of anti-religious riots in the UK, made by the National Front, showed the burning of the Koran and some early issues of Batman. In another video from March, in Egypt, American soldiers are seen attacking an old man shouting “Death to Jews Death to Christians, Death To Muslims” Video showing other anti-religious marches and chanting in Serbia goes viral. Riot police were on horseback carrying shields and using tear gas to try to disperse the angry mob of stupidity. This was a Cauty Drummond world made manifest.

Footage of a mob who broke into the home of a retired soldier and stole an antique sword and several gold chains was on the news. Demonstrators broke into the homes of soldiers in Sweden and urinate over their most beloved belongings. Islamic demonstrators in Greece attack German soldiers, some of whom were said to be Christian and some Jewish. They reportedly threw iron bars, smashed a car window and stole weapons. The race, identity and  sex of all these peoples was a jumble of confusion. This is mind control to keep you dumb. In the Czech Republic, two groups of secular idiots attack a female army cadet while in Turkey, kids brake into a church and beat up worshipers with broomsticks who were singing in the wrong key.

This is the very first time these images appeared together in the video. The real certified video, this guy looking out the window, his expression like he doesn’t care a hoot who or what lives or dies. And if the Fantastic Four got to go on a high-tech music production courses?

Bloodywallywood. How many more cons can a man stomach? They had one character that was an iconic hero and they fucked him up, and so fucked us up. They had one character and they had him screw the pooch. It worked. I mean, when was the last time you saw a superhero that wasn’t your main guy? It seems to me like one of the things you’re going to see a lot of, at some near point, is the franchise leader morphing with the main character. There’s always going to be Hercules, right? He’s always leading the band, a real fucking legend. Immortal. Percy and Max were arguing inside of Plush’s head.

They’d had four times as many men as women in superhero books, and these heroes often make men look like women, so my auntie says. How about some real trans-sexual heroes, humans with the mental and physical power of transformation.

The floor was painted black by one of the crew members. The one with “I can’t wait to see you” T-shirt. The other dude did everything by himself, setting up the microphone and mic stand under the golden floor-lamp. The music selection is mostly a matter of preference, which will be fully indexed down below, once pressed up. “push em’ up.”

A bunch of old cassette tapes with weird names are piled up, stuff like Stairway To Hairven, I’m Ready to Go, Firmware What You Like, 3D Printed Panda Shit, Electronics, Tiger Sound, and the old classic, Dirty Heavy Waterspout In Amsterdam.

In addition to this book of juggles and jiggles, there’san introduction to the occult arts of the Order of the Golden Down and further details of the Book of Spiritual Guidance Of The Master Flash Magic In Europe. The reader may be introduced to details of the TribeTable Method (TM) of initiation from the other bornless Masters.

CUT TO: Giordano Bruno enters into a space capsule, to meet Jodie Foster.

CUT TO: Inside the capsule, the surface is covered with Bruno’s geometric images, wheels within wheels, planetary images, houses of horoscopes, human figures, cypher symbols, all turning together in the capsule.

CUT TO: Jodie Foster and Giordano Bruno kiss.

To ensure that we maintain our close relations with the great Magickal traditions of England and Scotland and Ireland, we offer all of this from within an ultra-secret order of Free D Masonry. Members come of age every year in its secret traditions and DJ rituals. Many of you will recognise the great figures and sigils of magick and magickal history, but, with such an overview it would be impossible not to include some others, those brave souls little known to the pop DJ will remain nameless. “Nobody knows nobody cares” sang Frankie Passions.

As a writer, it’s almost impossible to be entirely faithful to the source material, an author could be half-heartedly correct in how everything fits together in a whole beat structure, and have been entirely off-base when it came to real relationships and voices and harmony. Like a DJ, when they’re speaking and playing, they are speaking and playing each another’s names. Ego trippin’. Incestuous. When we hear a novelists name like Tom Robbins or Ernest Hemingway, and when intended to be used as a literary touchstone in a story or essay like this one, it is like news. A terse news style. We can taste the leather gloves and Gin kicking, so we should feel the vinyl and hear the music.
“so…you write some lyrics and ask a supermodel to sing them, nothing easy about it. Turned out great though.” Plush snapped back at the record executive.
“You’re a music slug, you suck,”

A young bearded man sits with his back against a flakey wall, his legs crossed, head lowered in a puddle of his own urine. His right arm hangs limply, and he’s covered head to toe in an oily white substance. His eyes are closed and his face is panicked. He stands up and walks without making any noise. At that moment, two passers-by stare at the man with curiosity. The boy stops dead. The men say slowly, “Oh! Oh! You’re naked dude! What are you doing here covered in sugar?” The boy looks up.
“I’m cleaning my room!” he grins, pointing to a public toilet covered in graffiti reading: THE LADY IN THE PARKING LOT WRITES.

A short tubby man walked by the back door to the Amsterdam apartment where the victim was murdered with a blue pencil, the man was a member of the blue pencil group whose work was being threatened by members of the secret government, according to Max. This led to the blue pencil trial, which resulted in a death sentence for two men and the release of the other three on bail, for their role sharpening the pencils. Plush could hear Max in his ear.

“Can you imagine a list of transcripts from every Ma-sonic lodge meeting across America and every FBI/CIA Barbecue? Some of the most important Mason-based leaders and historical figures were also Knights Of Malta, and CIA. The true source of Freemasonry’s money-laundering power is the CIA, and their company policy that “it is the Masonic Lodge itself that controls a nation’s economic and political institutions, not the spies.” Max said, after reading a book on the Masons all he could see was fogged with Masons Masons Masons all the way down. Percy thought that Max needed to read about the banking conspiracies to get his head back out of his ass, and into shape.

“The sixties were a time quake before the end of the Cold War and the secret “colder wars,” which were the new war’s first skirmish and the beginning of another decade of bird flu based weapons. And, making sure the enemy has no medicine, food or critical infrastructure. Disaster capitalist demolition from the outside. Clever eh?” Max leaned over toward Percy and continued.
“Leaders on both sides were attempting to figure out how to get along. Many Americans had become disillusioned with both parties (as well as, we should remember, the story of the rise of the Communist party as the most obvious enemy) and many popcorn munchers feared that if they left it to Americans to make the world safe and free, they would be left without a friend or an ally.

Plush has had enough, and is at the bar drinking vodka and counting backwards from 1001, regretting every word published. A red-haired dude with gold teeth, an ill-fitting suit, and red loafers, also wears the look of someone about to throw up.

“I fucking hate people who take this shit for granted.” He runs to the bar for drinks when a fight breaks out in front of him. “YOU FUCKING FOLKS ARE FUCKED, FUCK YOU ALL.”
“Are those bath salts talking?” Plush said, but did not mean to say it aloud.

Plush was punched on the nose and pulled into a fight. The redneck professor now has a gun. The fight ended in a bloodbath. After shooting at Plush the redneck walks into the men’s room with an open umbrella and shoots a Tramp in the head. Plush stands in shell shock and cries.
“WHY DIDN’T YOU JUST MAKE THE NICE WORD, STUMPY”

“now you gonna’ die, bitch”. Plush regretted his words again. Both his stories and waking life were turning violent and confusing. She was spiralling out of control. make it cohere, he thought to himself, “How to make it cohere?”

CUT TO: Robert Anton Wilson typing at his computer terminal: “Consider the Tale of the Tribe as an alternative form of scripture. Which forms of alternative scripture seem appropriate for the 20th Century? And which for the 21st?”

CUT TO: Max, Percy and Plush look at each other, each forms an ‘O’ shape with their mouth, they step, turn and breath deeply. No fear. No rush. be still.

Shannon starts to write the soundtrack to a previous scene in his head, a song for someone he knows really well called old man Norbert. Norbert is like his husband, intellectually speaking. When he saw his husband’s last expression in the mirror, he heard the sound of a phone ring. He tried to walk away from the spinning room but is pulled back by invisible hands, he begins to write the lyrics to ‘Don’t Worry, Just Go Away You Punk’ a song about people who think that he’s writing these lyrics for the money, while all along these words are for love.

I did not expect to find such scenes on a cheap DVD found in your bottom draw, but as night follows day, this movie called ‘Christophobia’ will one day blow up the Cannes film festival.

The record spun like a small cluster of planets, dots and markers signified planetary orbits on the surface of the record. Plush thought of Bruno and lulled himself to sleep with wheels within wheels within wheels.

They Came To Starburg by Steve Fly


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BACK TO CHAPTER ONE

FORWARD TO CHAPTER THREE