Tuche & Automaton

Thursday, August 31, 2006

Humyn Shamyn sees all

Lust & Greed Married, had two children, scorn and envy; scorn and envy created royality blood through incest and produced several children Rumsfeld, Bushit and Rove : The leaders of the "New" AmeriKKKa

SARAH'S STORY

Sarah stumbled as she stepped out. Peter saw the lights. They blazed into his eyes. He closed them but still could not see her approach.

As she rose to her feet, she grapped two pebbles. Her dress was in tatters. Her soles burned while her nipples were cold and wet. She could still hear the baby crying.

Sarah ran her hand over Peter's face. His hands squeezed her buttocks.

"He is gone", she said. Salt dripped from his chin. Sarah slipped the pebbles into his pocket.

After the noise of departure, the silence was broken only by an owl's hoot and a man's sob.

MANDY SMITH

Wednesday, August 30, 2006



Sunday, August 27, 2006




First school road


A bridge, horizontal,
straight,
sturdy across the busy highway.

White lines lead
to grandparents houses,
to hospitals,

An
escape route.

My city has become infested
with incubus men lingering
at my doorway
waiting for me to materialize.

I will raise my voice above theirs,
for now there are only hymns

As effective as prayers
without praise.

This is my exodus.

The road stretches flat
like the bridge.

There are bends and full tree lines
that bulge out of their
Given land.

I want to emerge from this machine,
Loiter in the corn fields,
almost full grown.

Hide,
wait
to become a whole being.

Saturday, August 26, 2006

hark harp hark

living with idiopathic hypertrophic susstained sleep apnea dsyfunction is rapidly becoming an intrusion of sheep and snailherd railway bussmen.
oh busmen
oh busman.
words by cocaine jesus

Thursday, August 24, 2006

The Rust Area



Simon met Steve
With his trousers askew
Like a man who knew what he was doing
But not why.

Steve met Ray
At a time when neither of them
Could bear a trip to the States
But both had Business Class.

Ray met Charles
When they realised through laughing
That together they had soul
And one bad eye.

Charles met Richard
When Richard was fourteen
And employed by the News of the World
As a man catcher.

Richard met Dave
In the dock of the Harlow magistrates
Where Dave looked sheepish
But his breath smelled of goat.

Dave met Stu
With his ears to the wall,
His eyes to the ceiling
And his knees all damp.

Stu met Keith
As Keith got struck dumb
At the moment he pushed through the windscreen
And tried to change gears.

Keith met Robert
As Robert held his wrists
And timed a good 62 on his watch
And smiled like a slice of melon.

Robert met Alex
When Alex caught a thumb in a mincer
And told jokes about falling
Into electrical appliance shops

Alex met Pete
With his arm in a sling
And his face full of buboes
And a graphful of antigens.

Then Pete met Simon
Who met Steve
Who met Ray
Who lunched with Charles
Who met Richard
Who met Dave
Who laughed with Stu
Who met Keith
Who met Robert
Who grinned with Alex

As they started to work out the Maths.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Intuition

the endless season of
        too late
has begun
     the penultimate parasol
          swirling
burned coffee & campfire smell
    someone broke the
     pot

it sounds like snow
rubbed together as
the footing slips
on loose hornfels
and she drops the bone-cup
the bandanna      to pick up     a soft roaring


*

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

My Pastime

You’re slipping

Fading from the

Lips of my love

You were close

So close to synergy

Close to oblivion

Sweet sticky sweat

Tasting of salt and

Warm anticipation

Sinful, beautiful devil

Taunting, teasing

My cat into heat

Your wicked gaze

Split my tail

Whimpering still

Mischievous withering

Where has my

Pleasure gone?

a warped landscape




>>




Monday, August 21, 2006

Mai Hand Carved Lodge Is Sea Monster Mouth In Bass of Totempole



[giubba jub
trusse sleeveless doublet
jerkin jacket mandillion
track people&7)
Pangwe Scrutiny Berlin]

ie:

the vestigial "Boeotian" footwing fossil Mai hamama
Haimama hamamai hamamamai
Hamama hamamayamai
Haimama hamamai hamamamai

ling kana nootchee
King Hootchee

linking Kootchee
to whole hollow tree basket

Whole Hollow Tree Basket sighs:

the winter-nootchee-nootchee fool-dancer
is sometimes mistaken for
"The One Shining Down"

"The One Shining Down"

The Thunderbird Foetus vestigial "Boeotian" footwing fossil Mai hamama
linking Kootchee
to whole hollow tree basket

"The One Shining Down"

cannot see this sea monster horn spoon
this berry spoon
is not for winter-nootchee-nootchee fool-dancer Haimama hamamai

who likes charred monstera trunk
water-gardening in the digesting chyle
Whole Hollow Tree Basket packed with loam sighs:

eye-joint
double eye
ends of gambling sticks
wilderness dominance so complete
SUMMER-nootchee-nootchee fool-dancer
hides
hides in wilderness
hides the wilderness
from sea monster horn spoon

"The One Shining Down"

green human water
The Thunderbird Foetus vestigial "Boeotian" footwing fossil Mai hamama
linking Kootchee
to whole hollow tree basket packed with loam
sprouting insignificant
a pathetic white worm's work
old farm green taco of lotus / kookoo burrow

black eye nostril
"one in another"

"one in another"-nootchee-nootchee fool-dancer
whose flippers rapidly skip
whose flippers surf and gambol
whose whisker spoons are packed with berry-loam
whose whisker pipes are smoking too much
Whole Hollow Tree Basket packed with loamsighs

Ts'um'a'ks takes Tatoo Fins in its jaws
not to eat
not to eat this

Where does Ts'um'a'ks takes Tattoo Fins?

To the
"The One Shining Down"-winter-nootchee-nootchee fool-dancer Haimama hamamai
Thunderbird Foetus vestigial "Boeotian" footwing fossil Mai hamama
old farm green taco of lotus / kookoo burrow
black eye nostril
"one in another"

The Vacant Electricity of a Lifetime

her thrumming promontory a softness landing on
damp, red earth. our hollow sleep being droned to death.
particles offering only stale water amidst the errors of
love grafting love to the colour purple.
an association prophesied in bundles of wet feathers.
in the interstices of figures haunting the tops of trees.
one lone woman swelling brightly smiles. hard skin becoming
radiant again above the vacant electricity of a lifetime.
reserves dilapidated. loving the yellow reason stepping around
the wisps of crackling dawn. schizophrenic nastiness spat from the
merely descriptive other lover. hands moaning with
forgotten ambivalence plucking names from puddles of silence.
an established inventory shining a numinous light
on abandoned beds of awe and wonder. everything happening
in frozen cycles of emphasis. our mystic imagination
having to crumple the boundaries between the
broken nothing and mystic ceasefires hiding in
this lasting forever. just to confuse matter.
thrown words following the edges of alpha to phantasm.
made green to licking after regular intervals of stolen
precipitate. swallowing a channel of whiteness.
untamed branches clearly breathing in tufts of DNA.
a wearied newness drooping for you in the heart.
lucidity braying where life lies hidden. blue intensities
wearing beads of conflict around their mirror of clouds.

Sunday, August 20, 2006

\/\/\/\<><><>+_-_*^^-()()()
S - H - A - P - E
up
\/\/\/\<><><>+_-_*^^-()()()





obtuse literary cocaine fuck ups from Factor Ape Sex

/?

Saturday, August 19, 2006

and so the bread lies bleeding in the corner while
your heart lies passive on the cutting board.
.
.
posted by doriandra
.
.
eventually, even nice, happy, smiley people have to eat shit
.
.
posted by cocaine jesus
.
.
.
















Rabbit or Rat?
.
.
posted by stickleback2.
.
.
Find me a burning cinder
I can hold in my hand
Till it turns your
heart black.

And I will not
.
.
posted by inkblot
.
.
.
speak to the dark angels on discharge

Neato Project Alert!
I just thought I'd help pass along word that Kellista is working towards making a zine of recombinant/remix writing. She is going to post various writings on her blog, do remixes of them herself. And, she is inviting anyone who would care to join in to do so.

But, there are no rules, really. So, if you have any recombinant/remix writings that you would care to share, drop her a text or two at: lethalbee@riseup.net

A Blog/Blogject [my blog dreams]


You know what a blog is, shorthand for a weB LOG. A blogject is one of those things that has a certain kind of blogger thinking about. Literally they are inorganic object that blog, but that definition does not cover one important part of what makes a blog. A blog needs a mind to write it, while a sensor that publishes its data online writes but lacks in a self.

This blog/blogject is a Janus head, a 2 faced web0.0 monster sharing a memory-system based on the idea of an palimpsest. When the limited memory it has is filled to maximum capacity it needs to reorganise it to make space otherwise it can't store any more new blog entries. In doing this it has to try not to forget the old ones, but this is not always done with much success as memories confabulated over time become increasingly unrecognisable. This making space is done by the blogject and its functioning is modelled on how our brains interleave our memories: by dreaming. The resulting dreams are what the blogject publishes online.

The relationship between blog (and someone using it) and the blog-ejects rendered from/within this input is symbiotic. The blogject only starts functioning when memory reached a tipping point (being full), the blog can continue to accept new entries for as long as the blogject succeeds in freeing space, to which again there is an upper limit.

As an experiment in writing by a selfless-self (adjacent to automatic writing and the cut-up) there are two angles to this system: the blogject's output and the stuff stored in the blog as its increasingly looses its integrity, are both written by a non-self. The purpose or meaning of this writing is not in the writing itself but in the interpretation of it by the ones submitting writing to its memory. This property too it shares with dreams.

Follow the system as it ages here.

http://socialfiction.org/palimpsest

Friday, August 18, 2006

Now hear the word of the (land) Lord.....

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Heineken Fast Forward Dance Parade


This parade happened recently in Rotterdam.

I AM THE TRAFFIC TALIBAN

TheGreatGodPanTM says "KINDLY RELEASE MY HOOF"
You make Yukio Mishima look like Peter Rabbit
And me, your faithful husband of 45 years!
Reduced to the level of chauffeur or ANIMUS
As you sit there, flicking ash'n'black from your clay pipe
Your lung vessels popping under the strain
Oh such a futile feminist statement!
Lazy racist days in 1974
We conducted our honeymoon in a ruined Roman fort
As I bit my knuckles in impotent silence
At your arse-wiping antics with mud-clogged leaf mounds!
And thought - I HATE YOU, YOU BASTARD

Me! This lowly lapdog, this prancing PRIG
As I pottered round in slippers
You talked of breast implants and shagging mutton jeff shepherd boys
And your addiction to tripe! Oh, I tiptoed around alright
Enduring the TV documentaries
Jackie Collins' first crack at sapphic pursuits
The secret boxlife of SHERGAR
And Hitler's dietician!
And your squawking voice, phlegm-cackling on
At me, your blameless patsy!
Like a cup of soup with that Strongbow, DEAR

Now the boot's on the other foot
Mortal scum ; hail the dawn of the TRAFFIC TALIBAN
A hundred wheels roll through Candytown
Repeat offenders crushed into the tarmac
Bourgeois bumpkin filth, vulgar swan-sandwich shops
BLOWN SKY HIGH ; motorbike license revoked, or GOUGED EYE ; pram license up in smoke?
CHILD, DIE ; bitch, I'll crack your spokes - NOW CRY
Oh yes, you ungrateful cow
Now, you see your tyranny
Hurtling down the hill, like some rural cheese-rolling contest
As you whimper, and try to invoke your satyr mack
SHIT ; this is the end of forced Gong sessions
Shergar rides again
Kissed back to life by the TRAFFIC TALIBAN
While you, sit there, stunned, smeared in fishpaste
Your carpet as worn as your mother's piles
And I laugh, as the radio announcer confirms

You're just David Pleat with tits

Monday, August 14, 2006

thorndike





a pint in cocaine jesus

Contrasts or Continuity of Daily Life



Patrons leaving Lebanese restaurant, sometime after 11pm. A little over a day before the ceasefire.

- Sydney, Australia.

Sunday, August 13, 2006

a mark on one of those things on your arm



aurum teaberry, ahhhh how nice it is to
     flick
          your cosmogony (sucker)
fuck bandage
aurum morendem
     canterburias

char spa woman talks lightly (deftest), your callus-masquer, spectrometer (cajole)

the interest-answer of striking
     her gelled visage of bruises and watermarks
burst womb
     menstrual inertia

no sex, no estimated adiposity
     the punkiness of no flesh you fat fucking epilog
(wain) -------- fluid
     drain --------------- shit

          sleep tight administration crackpot
hold the sweat
     the tears of mad fucking
the sleet and ripeness that goes with a sensitive stagnation.

kisses on bark and scored needle points (cheek red with wear)

phonic crake, teletypewriter sucking.

fucking tits and balsam wood, the ichthyosiform gown strap
proteus trapped in abc crystals

swizzle lady (tilth)

grieve cajoling prostitute
     hold a magnet up high and crawl
marginalia
crawl crawl
masquer
creek creek

Saturday, August 12, 2006

How to advertise toothpaste

Nels Cha

Friday, August 11, 2006

power recovery - auto rotation

I remember what
you forgot
but
lost it in a ball
or was that a glass

no

a checkpoint
with fishnet
stockings

hey you
in the corner
pull this
through your swollen
prick

pesos. an insect husk. black waves of panic.
I touch the radio it is hard but also black hair
to think about later thru honey streaked fingers


remember when you said
don't touch me when I'm falling

and

the fingers that did

remember
the rain

your wet socks

the flame

remember the cut

the boring blood

the phone

the moving parking lot

*

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

brighton

petrol kisses
burning rubber
[like a duck..like a duck]
electric eye snap jaws you
collecting the frame by frames
of you and
T H E M
within the spinning
spin spin spin
crisp packets carpet the pavement
coke bottles
now empty me dears
pissing tears
youth hustles
and vomit slides
down the cracks



words by cocaine jesus

Monday, August 07, 2006

the part you don't see in this photo

the dead
white as bonefish
in a cemetery
fat with moon
the rusting spikey fence
one empty grave full
of beetles
idling like machines.

Sunday, August 06, 2006

galatea's thoosid love

blog.myspace.com/leviticus1928

Saturday, August 05, 2006

The Dead Bee Mambo

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Wizard Of Gore



- What is real?
- Are you certain you know what reality is?
- How do you know that in this second, you aren't asleep in your bed, dreaming that you are here in this theatre?

- All your life, your past, your rules of what can or cannot be: it all was part of one long dream from which you are about to awaken and discover the world - as it really is!

Coil - Furthur

I love you




L'Amour * comme Anse *
Préhension fort possible *
Cela * CON * pulse *
D * I * R * E *
Mon lisse Sire *
L'Ame * Qui se dynamite *
Rythme à résonance *
Passions * Putrides *
Dé-mettre * Dé-missionner *
D. m' Anse * Et * m' en Saigne *
La coupe * a * Ton Cœur *
Ce * sera * toujours *
Mon Sang *
Les * corps * tombent *
Dans la bouche *
Des corbeaux *
Des * Tours * A * chaque * Lettre *
Implosent * La * Tome * Démo *
D. * E.moi *

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Agrarian bondage

SUBMISSION IN A FIELD

YIELD

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

There is no connection
The ports collect dust

Ties are loose and tenuous
Ends are faded and frayed

Hell is in the fingertips
hovering over my breath

signal strength is low
the files are corrupted