- h, μ, ч, ᚠ (ה or the phonecian, closer to the runes) -
the impeding "doom" of overtly-intelligent comedy...
for all i know: tragedy is as simple as simple comes,
but comedy, for "no apparent" reason requires
the i.q. nudge-nudge...
well... when i was last found listening to
ridicule... or rather... no: it was ridicule...
comedy and rhetoric...
it's the most perfect example of how there's
a beginning in rhetoric: the art of oratory...
in telling jokes... and how... this art has to be
subverted in order to pass a prime minister's
questions in parliament...
but ridicule is beside any feeling of aggression...
it's an adrenaline shot... for sure...
i wonder how the adrenaline differs between
being in a boxing match...
climbing a rock face...
sitting with a bunch of girlfriends bitching
over third parties over coffee...
alcohol and listening to music - and somehow,
"somehow" writing... that's also an adrenaline pulse...
subtle... with the right sort of music,
with the right of spirit (ms. amber):
but most esp. - with the right: off the top of my head...
but then... shit... condom...
what if i have to self-censor? whatever freedom
existed in my head... there are cages if i should
see god or sounds in print...
and... it's not like there's a russian litany to back
me up...чequers and чeese...
h... ч... well up-side-down and then made chiral...
mirror mirror on the wall...
or: just μilk the μω (look...
em... i too think that a greek omega can be fathomed
as a tOOl... rather than be: pút to use...
acute... such a lemon: power up a punch, the end)...
unless... but there is no unless "unless"...
hence: the north: h,
the south: μ,
the east: ч...
and... well well well... the west: ᚠ...
otherwise? back into russian:
cholera! czekam!
хoлera! чэkam! (shit! i'm waiting)...
for what? when i can think of a word in
native for using the ч- prefix
and a -х suffix!
in the meantime i understand
the meaning of: чekaць (czekać) -
to be waiting... "too many letters...
too many consonants...
like shackles? i only see two vowels...
no problem with shackles...
but suddenly a problem...
czekać... chequers... H to a Z...
neither surd nor...
yes... very much so... surd letters do exist
in these texts: rhetoric invokes a surd...
a gnostic invokes a surd... a surd is...
a surd is also known as an apostrophe...
or as one arm of the tetragrammaton...
but no surds! in DIAGNOSTICS!
at least the russians know the distinction between
a C... and a K of their western neighbors...
cat kettle cuddle killer...
k c k c...
well... until: cyst! or... cipher! then the "elbow" drops
and we get Cymru... gar-con...
the "c"elts... and: a glaswegian football team: celtic!
here's the elbow: çyst, çipher, Çymru, gar-çon...
Kelts, çeltic... very unlike greek...
who would elbow their way in with a possessive /
plural article, akin:
to... there σat a many σittingς' worth - a great
many σitterς...
so it's greek! this plague of the... ᛋᛋ...
chisel to wood... chisel to stone...
ah... but pen to paper? S... less crude...
curves... mmm... yummy... doughnut shapes... and pears...
but how did the russians...
manage to put ш and ч together to make... щ?
ah... now i see...
look: ш + ч
there's an overlay and... a siamese oddity pops out
at the end... it's somewhat like a cedilla...
never mind...
ok: sound "logic"...
any squiggly bibbly with letters from Beirut?!
no... no "awe" insipring affairs from there?
or no grand sanskrit: bottom line worked on:
from the top... read below the equator?
you and i: ты и я...
otherwise we'll need to sort out this "igrek"...
beside the vistula vicinity:
it's either ы or it has to be stressed as ý...
so it's not mis-said to invoke: ply... pl'i...
and no... in the Vest... it's и: "e"...
or eh... m'eh eh... if it was romanian for
ты e я - again: there's a surd in there...
a vowel catcher...
as i've already mentioned...
there is a subtle, ha ha... "subtle" difference
between ц (snare tsst tss) and a kappa...
cena (tsena) - price... for a kite...
as we do prize our worth on speaking:
clearly... not some babylonian gobble-wobble
spaghetti nonsense...
sens (sense)... yes... we have that too...
but if we have ц... we also have ць -
last time i checked... pić: to drink...
no wonder i'm no good at crosswords...
when you having an entrenched knowledge
of two languages...
and you're scouting at least two:
russian and greek...
and you're teasing "out-of-date" phonetic
encodings: runes and glagolitic...
because: let's face it... do these letters
seem as if: latina mortua est?
perhaps it died a death in how words were
arranged by the rubric of the letter...
but... omnia in omnibus...
am i writing this using...
phonecian letters? hebrew letters?!
runes?! arabic - i'm writing in fucking arabic!
clearly! what sort of "death" is latin
supposed to, "die"?
- aspasia, phryne, rahab, theodora, hagar -
i tried to assimilate, oh wait, i did, and i speak better native sprechen than the actual natives, and for that? you get the boot, because some camel jockey egyptian mongrel mixed with iranian blood gets the better of you... i guess the "natives" were fans of the eastern european pussies, but not the eastern european males, fuck it, i'm coming for the ride; can just see the niggas shouting: ooh ooh! their male counterparts are a'coming! and next thing you know, i'll be asking you to play the fucking banjo, with a toothpick!
and it was always going to be torrential rain,
suspended in a prelude crescendo
of soulfly's song prophecy...
oh all the hoes come from eastern europe,
just like all didlo moulds come from africa,
gotta perfect that "pleasing of the white
dominatrix honey cougar in plastic too, yo, bro..."
black people don't speak the current
lexicon, they are hyper-evolutionary
with their slang impromptus,
gets annoying after a while,
when you stop keeping track of their
ghettosprechen...
fuckers could have said custard,
meant margarine, but i'd still think of
jungle...
ghetto nigga, get-a-go!
next time you mention all women of
eastern europe as whores, i'll mention
you in my charcoal wish-yo-were-edible
roasts... fuck me... i'd prefer eating a leg
of lamb than a nigger; shank.
oh, the word offends you,
but doesn't offend you in a rap limerick?
i.e. nigga nigga bab bab nigga?
black people invent too much slang,
too much degenerate use of language,
i try to keep it straight and universal,
off the orangutans go, talking orange is
the new black...
i still find it hard to fathom
darwinism, who would be mad to begin
in africa, and end up in the arctic circle,
and no china?! common origins bullshit...
tried looking for an eskimo in china,
all i found was, a fucking icecube!
post-existentialism does exists,
it exists in the form of anglo-existentialism,
i.e. a darwinistic blackmailing...
21st century existentialism is blackmail,
plain dumb & simple...
and yes, i have a girlfriend, i call her...
sophia...
and nietzsche was right:
the ugliest of the ugliest? atheists,
intellectually speaking.
and why would you ever consider
the pristine sophia / virgin mary if not considering
aspasia, phryne, rahab, theodora,
to counter philosophy,
why not craft a:
philospasy, a philophryny,
a philorahabu, a philothedorum?
guess what, of the most famous prostitutes,
the contestants are philorahabu,
and philothedorum,
and all are famous prostitutes;
then the pristine sophia, my "girlfriend";
philosophy has a deity, that although
deemed pristine, has been touched by
many hands, and many strangleholds of ego,
time to turn this princess into a whore;
and the ones that visited a prostitute,
will look at those that haven't with curious
eyes.
let's not forget the siamese twin prostitutes
safa & marwa, and the matriarch
and true founder of islam ha-gar -
the concubine of abraham,
that prostitute mother of islam.... hagar...
you really think men invented the islamic
attire for women?
who's at the chanel catwalk,
straight men, or gays and women?
you blame anyone, you blame: hagar...
running between the mounts safa & marwa...
islam, that totalitarian reinvention of
"repentant" / "revised" mode of prostitution...
and as i once overheard an englishman speak,
the niqab? satan's postbox.
- the craft began with treating the world as
solely inanimate, to make it as inanimate as
possible, and interact in it,
as the sole animate agent, obviously with
the obvious hurdles of animate expressions,
nonetheless, these expressions being
outside the vicinity of integrated animate
actors, working around in inanimate surroundings,
conclusively,
the "supposed" animate expression regain
their inanimate stratum by a repeatedly
predictable observation of
a prior re similis ad infinitum
(prior to, again, similar toward infinity).
the point was always to make the world
as inanimate as possible,
collecting books is a starter,
collecting cooking utensils another,
the point being, to surround yourself with as
much inanimate reality, as to prove yourself
the animate, the "actor"...
or more expressively: the puppeteer...
it still bothers me, grinding two prefixes...
the penta- vs. the tetra-...
why? well, we are embodied with five sense,
but there are only four elements...
vision
audition
gustation yes, but there's only
olfaction
somatosensation
air, fire, earth, water...
this is almost gagging a schematic,
we can see fire, earth and water,
we can hear fire, air, water and earth,
we can taste...
we can smell fire, air, water, earth,
we can touch fire, water, earth...
this, by the way is crude...
and is limited by not adding particular
observations...
but the ratio 5:4 is in place, akin to
the mad hatter's 10/6 = 0.666...
and that missing one is: ad infinitum,
might as well call it the lazy eight with 4:5...
since the elements came prior to the senses.
i'm guessing the "fifth element" to compliment
the five senses is a far greater posit than
a sixth sense, in that, this "fifth element"
is a plagiarism of kierkegaard,
i.e. the "changelessness of god",
namely the eternally immovable object,
an object of constantly perpetuated friction,
so stationary that it moves all things,
which also precipitates into an eternally
recurrent subject matter,
immovable, ergo, inexhaustible.
- and i will die believing that anglo-existentialism
is an argument from the perspective
of blackmail, esp. since it's overtly-repetitive
and unoriginal,
and if the english found continental
existentialism boring, a continental european
like myself, will find some hidden interest
in this "boring" artefact of time,
but nothing can redeem repetition,
not even a boring artefact of writing,
since when reading a boring "effort" of
writing, you can actually wake up,
and yawn...
but when the same "effort" is repetitive,
you never get a chance to yawn,
you're still asleep, "apparently" enthralled.
- and to give a conclusion...
if an irishman thinks you write akin to
the psychiatric slang of "word salad",
ask him if he has read any james joyce,
if the answer is no, and he replies that he prefers
video game narratives, and has ambitions of
writing a book citing the cliche moonlight sonata
of beethoven... it's one of those times
you can't even laugh, internally, or externally.
- eventuality vs. actuality -
whereby actuality is a reactionary stance
that drags past events into present and future
events...
whereby eventuality is a liberal stance
that drags past events into a wall,
the present into a status quo,
and the future into a snooze button phase
of a clockwork orange.
- no, i don't like this darwinistic blackmail of
continental existentialism,
this monochromatic monolith...
- better start calling philosophy by its proper name,
philorahabu / philothedorum
(were not underlined on the pixel canvas,
thereby bypassing the oxford dictionary panel
for nuo-verbum acceptance) -
keep that virgin of yours sophia
in a cage, because your thinking,
like your body, will become contaminated;
but one thing is for sure,
that concubine hagar running between
safa & marwa looking for water...
can't imagine any other grander matriarch...
a reformed sex slave, who gave birth
to the niqab...
i really can't imagine jannah
that way... i think it looks like:
1 man + 72 prostitutes,
and 1 woman + 3 holes stuffed;
72 x 3? 216... not some magic number...
the metaphysics sold via the gratification of sex...
even muhammad is a pale comparison to
king solomon... or there's king david
and his "harem" of psalms...
his lute...
because yes: the promises are pathetic...
i imagine a labyrinth of books...
i imagine... a minotaur's focus on...
the only way to encompass "passing"...
a time expansion as awe encompassing as eternity...
sure as shit: it's not via fucking...
the tender pre-occupation of exoskeleton
life-forms... insects...
well at least we know that a castrato can experience
an orgasm... then again:
maybe we don't know...
i started masturbating before i managed
to allows my balls to drop
and produce a white genocide of flushed
sea-men harrowed by the whirl and bleach...
ask a castrato whether orgasm comes
with anything being ejaculated...
or you can ask me...
the past me, circa 8 year old...
does the existence of testicles add to the sensation
of an orgasm?
does... the existence of female eggs / whatever
that involves do anything for the necessity
of female foreskin?
so it's all in the muscle...
nothing associated with ejaculating any sperm...
good to know... because...
frankly... up in that metaphysical beginning
of yours? no need for sperm...
no need for balls...
yes, the lucky martyr does get
the 72 virgins... once... he's given the major snippet...
the minor snippet being he's circumcised...
and he can't entertain himself...
the major snippet being his balls get
the guillotine: cho-pper! (pp includes a post hyphen
stutter)...