Non-linear

"Read books that bite... that sting." -- Kafka

Nothing to Remember Now

Listen to the music.  The women sound like machines.  Familiar noise without the novel connection; empathy between the performer and listener is not present.

Songs imitating emotion, rather than expressing feeling, evoking specious intimacy, projecting contrived and transparently false precociousness.  The sterile gloss of poorly imagined, relentlessly repetitive imagery reflects little direct experience.

So, increasingly, direct experience appears less valid, less 'authentic', than emotional or intellectual or spiritual reality defined outside oneself: the perspectives of one's peers and personal engagement with media narratives supersede individual perception.

The Saints, It Is Said, Traveled Far

Past the last settlements and human dwellings there is only barren land, where feathers continually fall from the cold sky, where the sun circles the horizon, neither to rise nor set.



Certain of the Stoics say the natural extension of poetry is philosophy.

Prescience

Drama resolved in tragedy or comedy-- meaning death and meaning or life and action, both dealing with consequences of choices...

Enamoured with the vicissitudes of style and fashion, remaining in darkness,surrounded by reflections in the surface of unformed night.

Dogs bark, horses panic, looking towards things we cannot see.

On the Sidewalk

Replicants, revenants, doppelgangers, and the repetition of history, birth and death, ceremony, ritual, honor, tradition, gunfire, bugle call--

Look at the way the light falls in photographs, as if these unknown and unknowable people are blessed, caressed, confessed divine or favored by forgotten gods, heroes, torch-bearers, crowned by the tribe, the culture--

While with these words anyone and no one may be joined, linked, connected through magic beyond warriors, farmers, women, offspring, into settings of clerks, scribes, those who have the king's tongue and ear and are uplifted and buried in the embrace of civilization.

We call on those things to which we are attached-- coins, radios, salt, voices, scandals, dangers, pleasures, sea changes of consciousness in bottles bearing messages over tides, waves generated by brain or mind or transmission towers--

Upon these we stake our reality (do we not?) and create all those impossibilities that never existed.



Warhol

Popular culture is to culture what popular opinion is to sound judgement.

It can be a hit-or-miss proposition.

Bio

Press kits are necessary, it would seem.  Horrible things.

Who I am depends upon who sees, who listens.