Friday, March 27, 2015

Scare

Sitting through a thunderstorm on an airplane is one hell of a thrilling sensation, for some. For others, it seems to be the unique opportunity to show others who are scared how much more brave, calm, or manly they are. 


Like as if death itself would stop on its tracks because one raised his or her chin up high, and shine a condescending gaze from the corner of an eye, to all the pitiful, inferior ones who are left unsettled and wary by it…

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Anton


I don’t think I have ever seen so many awkward moments as in this seminal interview of Anton, somewhere in the late 1960s, on the cusp of the wonderful, modern, brain numbing, corporate media mass hypnosis.

Monday, March 23, 2015

Distance

We give names to things. Attach values and perceptions to them. Agreed to use some of them for communications, for definitions, and thus create traditions. Agreed to teach the chosen traditions to our offspring, as truths, and thus foster a hereditary forgetfulness that they are just names. Until all started to believe that names are reality and reality are names, with no distinction.


So, when somebody or something comes up that does not fit the presumed values and perceptions behind their namesake, we, or you, or just me, or just others, tend to react in a variety of negative, distancing expressions. Because we do not know how to classify someone or something that does not fit the tradition of names we grew up accustomed to as reality.


Until, of course, the ones with whom we distanced ourselves, becomes familiar; accepted; popular; named; embraced....

Thursday, March 19, 2015

Wonderful View XXIII

Who needs hallucinogenic 
when you can trip out on everyday blood lust 
like Eugene with the rudimentary axe
passing through layers 
of jet black anger
bite 
and hack


Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Manners

Sat down with a couple of pigs the other night, and talked, as always, in ramblings. Every day, common, bleak, dreary life details of the most obnoxious kind. 

How could such pigs complain about manners when one decides to relieve himself of the banality, without saying farewell, is beyond me. It took a few cuts by some shredded glass pieces, to eventually settle the matter. 

Love them pigs, and their sense of manner.

Friday, March 13, 2015

Talking About Wizards

So it seems that the word ‘wizard’ was actually derived from the Middle English word ‘wysard’, from ‘wis’, ‘wys’, or, eventually, ‘wise’. At least that is what someone told me a long time ago…

It was also advised to me that the word, then, relates to either one of the following traits:

a person with a high degree of knowledge or skill in a particular field;
a person who practices magic; like a sorcerer or magician;
a sage;
a person who possess characteristics appropriate to supernatural power.

I wonder why we don’t consider wizardry a profession, if it also refers to a person with a high degree of knowledge or skill in a particular field?

Or why a person like Charles Manson is not addressed to as wizard Manson? Is or was he not highly skillful  in motivating murderous rampages?  

Thursday, March 12, 2015

Wonderful View XXII

Some people on the street makes you think of how arcane song titles should be extended…

Like “Careful With The Axe Eugene”….


….“You Might Just Start the Wondrous Apocalypse”…

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

The Question of Pace

The question of deciding on a certain pace to coordinate your next course of action is always the most intriguing during that spontaneous, unplanned chance encounter on a hunt. 

The game is up there, a few yards away, and the smallest jolt of your muscles could lead to a twig snapping violently under your feet, and the game running away for dear life.

What kind of pace do you chose then? 

Would you carefully, painstakingly, plan your moves to get that killing moment just perfect..or would you just rush out and let that carnal, bestial instinct take control of your reasoning…into a series of giant, lung burning, hateful chase, ending in a series of ironclad, furious bites on the games’ hinds…? 

It depends on the game, I suppose… 

Monday, March 2, 2015

Drowning Divinity

One of the more amusing things to do in a bar, late at night, with only a few dreary souls left around, is to watch one or more of those wretched souls slowly decaying into drunkenness. Blabbering all of their hearts out, vomiting all the little loathsome self-pity details of a life so wrecked-full of disappointments…

And then, as you soak it all up, you can start thinking, how wonderful it must feel if you are a divine being, bounded by a weird destiny, to listen and record all these drunkards’ mumblings, for no other reason than to compel them to drown further into their bottles…and end their miserable existence in the embrace of the divine purgatory of their heady mead…