My song is simple / Because I am simple. / I need no complex language / To sing my truth / No adjectives or adverbs / No alliteration, / No similes or rhyme / I speak directly to your being / I use the voice God gave me / To sing His praise.
Channel: Microdoses
Quarantine NotesQuarantine Notes #8: Wisdom
The danger of cynicism is getting what you believe in: Nothing.
Quarantine NotesQuarantine Notes #7: Spirit
Strange, the power of the past—how our spiritual ancestors become our future masters.
Quarantine NotesQuarantine Notes #6: Reading/Writing
Never mind poetry or prose, good literature is the art of friction.
Quarantine NotesQuarantine Notes #5: Technology
In the age of information overload, our guides are curators.
Quarantine NotesQuarantine Notes #4: Creative Work
Anything freed from the marble is an angel. Never cease chiseling…
Quarantine NotesQuarantine Notes #3: Love/Loss
A working definition of Love: we started talking and never stopped…
Quarantine NotesQuarantine Notes #2: Balance
Birds don’t use their wings only to fly but, also, for balance―just like us.
Quarantine NotesQuarantine Notes #1: Art
Art for art’s sake is a dead end; art for heart’s sake is the way out.
Prediction
Prediction—or personal pose: / In the Age of AI / Poetry will be the last refuge / Of human language.
in under 500 characters…
Now that #ai is colonizing / #writing, my mind goes back / to studying theory in the ’90s:
Ars Poetica
There is no rest for the search engine. The unquiet dead play games with the subject/ object interface. It appears that our operating system is not a friend to Jesus. Logos flash through the sky of the Sinkiang Autonomous Region. Our wet dreams run through fiberoptic cables.
To the Cleft of the Mountain We Go
Fold up the linen and keep the receipts / Re-bury the boxes in earth. / Tight—shut the windows, hermetically seal / Let nobody see its birth! // Golden-brown bodies with Sun-kissed lips / Don silver-moon garments of old. / Hush— cool silence for raging and violence / Fire’s mouth must be closed to console. // To the cleft of the mountain we go!
Lo fatal by Rubén Darío – performance and translation
Marco V Morelli reads Darío’s classic in original Spanish, with music by Doug Duff. There is a new English translation as well.
Jupiter Square Saturn
“Jupiter crash landed into Saturn.” As above, so below. What follows is a short and bittersweet astrological allegory about the power struggles that ensue in the heavens.
Universal Eggs Benedict
Ingredients: 2 eggs (poached), hollandaise sauce (egg yolk, butter, lemons), English muffin, bacon slices, and something extra to enlarge the whole. Eggs, when you really think about them, are bizarro. Little pockets of pre-embryonic fluid. If you were …
Dissecting the video-essay: “Perreo as a spatio-temporal re-configurator”
https://vimeo.com/313734066 Reggaeton took over the planet. Latin music had never been so popular, so present in the global arena, so influential. But, is the world ready for a formal, scholastic study of the phenomenon? Eduardo Makoszay Mayén seems to …
An introduction to Jodo’s movies: “Who Is Alejandro Jodorowsky?”
How to decipher Alejandro Jodorowsky’s symbolic film world? Here’s an introduction.
Alan Moore spills the beans on the Book Shambles podcast
Arguably the most respected comic book writer, Alan Moore, gives you more information that you can chew in one sitting.
A rare David Lynch interview about meditation, creativity and the absence of anger
A never-before-heard interview with David Lynch by Mitch Horowitz, mostly about meditation and creativity.
Two Tastes
on differences that make a difference, or aesthetics
“Blood and Rockets: Movement I, Saga of Jack Parsons – Movement II, Too the Moon” by The Claypool Lennon Delirium
The Claypool Lennon Delirium masterfully tells the story of rocket scientist/ occultist Jack Parsons.
Consuelos de Cocina
Hands of the dead here in my living hands / as I split stony squash with a crack of the blade, / scoop seeds, oil flesh for the fire—hands / of women and men in my hands, generations / repeating these gestures, the old pleasure…
The Face
He was but a breath, a simple creation of some greater existence. Nothing implied, nothing necessary, nothing required. Just a breath. As was the face. And is the face. And always will be the face.
grammatological monster
I noted that since the time of Gebser, our ‘grammatical mirror’ has exploded (while remaining mostly mentally fixated) but that we might ‘update’ Gebser by finding evidence of the post-postmodern (integral) now. This text (and accompanying audio) is meant to illustrate that point.
A Precoded Message of Damage
The subject was discovered on a routine gravimetric exploration approximately one mile beneath the Earth’s surface in a small cavern rich in copper. Dwelling in complete darkness and surrounded by approximately 3500 urns of various shapes and sizes, the age of the subject remains indeterminate. Subsequent testing revealed the age of the urns to be approximately 500,000 years old.
Salmon Run
Music and lyrics by Paul Maylone. Listen free….
Streets of Paris
Music and lyrics by Paul Maylone. “You will turn me into fire, / You will turn me into war, / I will give my life as openly as so many before….”
How to Live in the Future (Part 2)
If some Omega Point in hyperspace, the Eschaton that waits for us at history’s end, draws all mundane phenomena into its all-embracing unity, we’re implicated in that vast conspiracy already. We can celebrate. But particles apparently pop in and out of being all the time, each moment a Creation. All of it occurs at once, a party more than a parade. So point me to “the” Singularity, again?
Banishing the World: Conner Habib on Postmodern Philosophy and the Occult
I spoke with Conner Habib about his new course, “Banishing the World: Postmodern Philosophy and the Occult,” and learned about the surprising ways in which the most interesting and sophisticated philosophies coming out of humanities converge precisely with occult ideas.