"What I'm dealing with is so vast and great that it can't be called the truth. It's above the truth." - Sun Ra

Friday, March 22, 2013

Fractures from an Azetec Mirror

 



A Way to Win is to Not Play or is that Losing?
And either way, whatever.

My granny is cruising through her 90s in a warp that sucks me in by number.
All through the long visits I felt death pull me like gravity, like time pulls the meat off a chicken bone, like it pulls the planets along behind it as it sucks and roars along,
like stringed tin cans on a baptism-cum prom-cum wedding-cum-funeral car,
like Flash Gordon gradually fading into youtube
 and then all just raw conscious thoughtlessness - a dull roar of white static, in which you may at times think you hear the ocean, or vice versa... all voices that you hear are your own, you realize, in this 2001-Kubrick room of the self, and outside that, the serpent swimming through the blue veins of your aging relations, swimming both towards you and away, towards you and away...

I've been unable to leave the house, no matter where I go. (EK - 2008)

the fish and the net - A story of Pisces writers
The fish bring Jesus a TV sonar device. Jesus,, they say, you are a fishermen and we would have you catch us easier. The apostle fishermen and Jesus head out with the sonar device, following the fish to the middle of the Sea of Galilea. Then right as they’re about to cast their net, a commercial for Lite beer appears on the screen. Hypnotized, the apostles drop the net. They want to try these beers, so Jesus makes them appear and they drink and he bids them cast the net, but then a cigarette commercial comes on. And so on. The fish live happily ever after and Jesus ends up using all his miracles and the apostles become couch potatoes. You know the rest. It’s a metaphor for how the internet interferes with my ability to concentrate on finishing this story.

Monday, March 4, 2013

Deep into the psychosphere with Adam Scott Miller


 They're kind of dark, a little unhinged, but beautiful enough that you just want to crawl inside and dissolve into they ley lines. I'm speaking of course of the work of Adam Scott Miller, or Corpus Callosum at deviantart. Thanks to sites like deviantart there's more chances than ever to stumble across psychedelic greatness like this.



 I'd place his work somewhere between Alex Grey and the ayahuasca day-glo on black background paintings the amazon basin artists, with just a dash of black light poster 70s bad ass-ness. Tune in, tune out, tune back in and enjoy.