transient time for a transient mind

Forgive my absence Senators, and world.

The times of the Post Modern have been obstructed of late.

Obstructed - abstracted - Absurded.

Life, in its infinite menageries, seems always intent on casting you into this one or that one, putting you here or there until your idea of self is lost in its relation to itself and has no choice but to relate to another self. This confusion of self within this self or that self strays the mind and body far into bizarre realms where demons lay in wait on brooding rocks and bows and arrows fly through the air cast away with fury by the fiery heads of their wretched slayers. Sometimes those demons fight back with swords, battle axes, and maces spiked with the tits of super models (pointy bastards). But more often then not we find ourselves growing older as the years diminish into that infinite spectrum of objectivity, and our concept of self becomes transienter and transienter - Mr. Rabbit - and at once we become this person, or that being, or that God or that Demon. And for all their V-neck Black Wire Framed Slick Backed Hair Coke Canned Blonde Jean Short Members Only Sandal Vonnegut City MFA Studio Space Condom Wearing (or Lack There Of) Alcoholic Hallucinating and otherwise Confused Rantings Contemplations Philosophizing Spitting Talking Discussing and Typing of these bizarre words onto these bizarre screens (death to all paper), we still Senators and WORLD, are lost. Lost in ourselves, our ethics, and our selves.

DESPAIR!

Or not.

Find answers where you can. Rotate your crops. Lead by example, as Senator does:

Senator

gilgamesh

4 more days and i become immortal

Post-Moderner

your reading gilgamesh?

Senator

no

im becomin immortal

Post-Moderner

you are gilgamesh?

Senator

if he is immortal then yes

he made it 6 days then fell asleep

i will make it all 7 to become immortal

Post-Moderner

you wont

Senator

you say that now

just you wait

got the sleep jitters

hallusinations

Post-Moderner

hallusinations you say

Senator

yez

halloozinasion

Post-Moderner

of what may i ask

Senator

colors

sounds

throbbing earth

dead relatives trying to straggle me

regular stuff

day 5 is wen the goods stuff beigans i hear

Post-Moderner

thats when zion appears and the devil himself comes flying down atop a black pegasus with wings of fire to whisk you off to the nether world...fortunately worcester isnt a long trek from you're humble abode

Senator

though

i swear if i see my penis blossom like a daisey while im pissing im gonna lose it

Post-Moderner

hold on for i hear that once you pass the perennial penal sprout that the immortal juice flows not far behind from the hose of heaven's alley

Senator

look up the indian guru who hasnt eatten or drunken water in 15 years

he says he sustains himself through a crack in the roof of his mouth

where the goddesses necter drips onto his tongue

The True Self is out there. Go find it.

the only true art

performance art of the best kind. let's all be like marina and re-enact such beautiful art.

The Senate as a second Skin

Tennessee Williams said "We are all sentenced to solitary confinement inside our own skins, for life." And this meeting of Senate is a means to shed our solitary confinement, and not by means of Scientology, Mormonism or intravenous drugs. Through the fruits of the intarwebs. We must mix the melting pot of fleshlights, youtubes, facebook and even the beloved 4chan to break these bonds of biological confinement. We must become keyboard Samurai ready to meditate on death daily, yet also ready to make the best of this Miley Cyrus generation. It is said that what is called the Spirit of an Age is something to which one cannot return. That this spirit gradually dissipates is due to the world's coming to an end. In the same way, a single year does not have just spring or summer. A single day, too, is the same. For this reason, although one would like to change today's world back to the spirit of one hundred years or more ago, it cannot be done. Thus it is important to make the best out of every generation. And make the best we must. I call upon all Senators to speak out and give a Walt Whitman Barbaric Yelp to cultivate the second blogging Senate skin that is immortal. I love you senators as I love the pillars of the Octopus and the Elephant that stand so phallic and stoic, they are more stable than the marble floor of the Roman senate. Cheers, gentlemen and I will see you all again.

"I Would Like to Invoke My Right to Remain Silent"

Reuters

"Aint got a care in world, but got plenty of beer
Aint got no money in my pocket, but Im already here
Now, the dudes are lining up cause they hear we got swagger
But we kick em to the curb unless they look like Mick Jagger."

“Is adult entertainment killing our children? or is killing our children entertaining our adults?”

This gift to extend our full support to the Deep Horizon Crusade against the Shamballies, is a luxury of the intarwebs. The land of the blog (as I imagine the the second world of Agharta) is the strongest form of Magic known to man. And I don’t trust blogs – unless you have the nerve to put it on paper and print and publish, you should be critical of what’s being said. People write what they write on blogs with the luxury of knowing it won’t have any effect and therefore it can be more polemic. But that doesn't mean we stop the support! I say let the torrents of tomorrow rain down in a great flood. No chance of diluting the BP oil slick, but necessity is the mother of all invention. Some say pelican's are flying again and again to the BP "Gulf Resort" to have their feathers nurtured by the blood of the Shamballies. The effects of this second earths life form blood supply upon our own biological systems is not clear. Further testing is necessary. Maybe a Jonah-esqe trip in the belly of a whale might hold untold benefits such as a cure for autism! Also speaking of colonial contracts, my viewing of the eleventeenth and a half season of the real world leads me to think that maybe, in this graceful yet brutal subworld we could install cameras with live web feeds for Senators and other privileged internet gremlins.



If one delves into the studying of the "hollow earth" or sub world of the Agharta, one is quick to pick up on the supposed importance of the five fingered monkey's running weapons deals and mass genocide. You see, and I quote, "The stone of completion {the top stone missing from the ancient ruins all over the world} is missing. Hence the stone of completion is the unification of man with the creator of the fifth dimension - being God." Now I am not trying to dive into the realm of theology here.. Purely technological. There are openings at the North and South pole of the earth to enter the inner earth. And come June 16th there will be a Gulf hyper passage which will hold untold glory. The point that I am driving at is the infinite reality television and hipster recursion that we are trapped in until the West crumbles under Miley Cyrus's next hit single, can be completely reversed if we can put these hollow earth beings on film and broadcast it globally. The oil spill, as fellow Senator has exclaimed, is an all you can eat buffet!

Now I move on to one of my most favourite artists, Thom Yorke - who has graciously written and recently released a song called Hollow Earth. The lyrics follow the Senator's rantings quite well.

"Without a conscience, a hollow ring
Lost in a maze, and forgetting
Throwing firecrackers and dancing
Lost in a maze a hollow ring

A dereliction (Whooooaa) of duty
A pitiful (whooooooo) display
Stamping the hollow earth (Whoaaaaa)
A pity
And throwing firecrackers (Whooooooo)
Hopelessly"



Just to make sure that "we stop playing and keep it moving"



Cheers, Senators and may the sun shine warmly upon your face.

All You Can Eat Buffet

Gentlemen, we have the greatest opportunity of any generation of humankind.
The Senate's brother organizations, the Washington Mystic 8 Circle and the Bilderburg Group headed by Grand Wizard Barrack Obama, have finished the preparation stages of Operation: "Deep Horizon."

And congratulations are in order gentlemen.

At 11:00 AM on June 16th, 4 nuclear devices that are currently being lowered into "BP's" "oil wells" will be detonated and the grand crusade will finally begin.


Contrary to public knowledge there is no more of an "oil spill" than there is a naturally occurring resource called "oil." In fact, the fruits of a long waged information campaign are only now about to be tasted.

It is a carefully guarded fact that there is a second earth inside of our planet, called Agharta. Powered by its own sun this reclusive sub-world has always slept beneath our surface, inhabited by the brutal yet graceful race of Shamballies.

Perhaps it will surprise some members of the "outer races" that we have been engaged in tentative racial warfare with the Shamballies since 1859. Some might be even more surprised to hear that the Shamballies' blood is a viscous black liquid, which public information campaigns long ago dubbed "oil".

World Government Scientists discovered in 1912 that the dim central sun of the Agharta world is responsible for the environmental side-effect of the Shamballies' "oil" blood. After numerous botched attempts, on June 16th 2010, four nuclear devices will blow a permanent passage between the two worlds in the vicinity of Agharta's capital city Shamballah and our Gulf Coast.


World Government reports project that depleted blood reserves will be restored by the inevitable colonization conflict with Agharta's indigenous race and carefully structured breeding programs promise to ensure that the Shamballie blood supply stabilizes.

This should prove the greatest opportunity for amassing personal fortunes in recorded history. Gentlemen of the Senate, given our privileged access to power- we've been informed of these impending events before the public. I recommend we make use of this gift and extend our full support to the Deep Horizon Crusade against the Shamballies.
I smell colonial contracts in the wind.

happy birthday

i always loved you in collared shirts