Saturday, May 1, 2010

quickening of the abstract

UPDATE: In all sincerity, i'd recommend most people skip this post. It's not funny, it's not clever.

This is a bunch of shit written down as the new album continues to crystalize. I'm not sure if it will be interesting to anyone - you have been warned! If it looks like pretentious art-fag psuedo-intellectual proselytizing then that's because it is. LMFAO oh dear "psuedo-intellectual proselytizing" wha?!?! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!


The background is that this follows directly from the last album.



Had been sleeping. How can you tell if it was all a dream? Pay more attention to the typeface? Writing in dreams is more honest in its treachery.

shifts and shifts and shifts again

the choice has been made, the path has been laid. The one act of creation shifted reality, the robot reacts as dead and dumb as ever. I see you there!

Following his tantrum throwing proclivities, he wails endlessly at the unfair world and the sleeping primates. While not entirely pointless, the only point is something very seperate. An extraverted nuerotic, his concience manifest in the roaring echos that return to him. The performer is the audience.

so it sings...

To be honest all this occult dribble is just trappings. Decisions had been made, eyes opened, magic worked, long before I considered following someone else's system.

There are similarities, to be sure. And referencing the known allows us to understand the unknown, but still.

I wish i could remember the first step. I think it was when Shem called me a bossy boots.

Volcano in my belly. I can't fucking believe she had a point about that.

So it starts like a calzone - take something you've seen before, let it fold over itself. The fact is reacting to your rage is rarely productive, it amounts to blind thrashing and is more in line with the terrified deaththroes of cattle than productive posthuman behaviour. Holding the rage, distilling, concentrating it, the allowing small precise droplets past your lips. Like science! The person who just sat down smells like poo.

That shit can move mountains, imolate cities, fire people into the sun. Like an orgasm - you have to have some restraint, hold it, hold it for the eart-shattering kaboom.

Magic like music like sex. Sounds like a fun weekend!

So that's the lesson learnt, grasshopper. We are now grade 7 and grade 10. Same again, HAL.

This is where it gets interesting. The trick top hat, i will create as i speak, disappearing forever into limbo, falling faster, faster,

reality takes a back-seat for a second.

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