Words · 25 January 2008
Words to memorize
Words hypnotize
Words make my mouth exercise
Words all fail the magic prize
Nothin' I can say when I'm in your thighs
Posted by (0v0)
Categories: evolution
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Aerosmith? :D
Posted by: patrick · Jan 25, 09:02 AM · #
Violent Femmes….
Posted by: Anna · Jan 25, 11:58 AM · #
ANNA I would call it: Intermezzo.
Come guys I am at work place. But as you know… my yoga teacher ElSeeDoor works for both of us.
Lets fill this Intermezzo with some priceless wisdom of my teacher: If you live in an area with a cold and icy winter, you have probably experienced salt on sidewalks and roads, used to melt the ice and snow and keep it from refreezing. I saw it too, a lightening idea came to my mind.
I asked my yoga teacher, can I sit in the salt first, before melting the ice with my ass. He said No, Zee that effect is termed ‘freezing point depression’.
Posted by: Zee · Jan 25, 01:19 PM · #
There is no second movement.
Eventually, BS makes me angry.
I don’t have the wisdom to moderate your differences, nor the patience. Nor the time.
Posted by: (0v0) · Jan 25, 04:34 PM · #
I hope you know that this will go down on your permanent record…..
Posted by: Susan · Jan 25, 04:55 PM · #
Ha!
Oh yeah well don’t get so distressed
Did I happen to mention that I’m impressed?
Posted by: (0v0) · Jan 25, 05:00 PM · #
I take one one one ‘cause you left me
And two two two for my family
And 3 3 3 for my heartache
And 4 4 4 for my headaches
And 5 5 5 for my lonely
And 6 6 6 for my sorrow
And 7 7 7 for no tomorrow
And 8 8 8 I forget what 8 was for
And 9 9 9 for a lost god
And 10 10 10 for everything everything everything everything everything everything everything everything
:)
Posted by: Susan · Jan 25, 06:09 PM · #
am i too late for the party?
i would love to love you, lover.
Posted by: cranky housefrau · Jan 26, 05:35 AM · #
The city’s restless it’s ready to pounce.
Posted by: Susan · Jan 26, 08:58 AM · #
GONE DADDY GONE
YOUR LOVE IS GONE?
GONE DADDY GONE
YR LOVE IS GO-ON
GONE DADDY GONE
YR LOVE IS GONEAWAY
GONNNNNAWAY-AY
GONNNNNNNAWAAAY
Posted by: katie · Jan 26, 10:30 AM · #
“your necklace is leaking
and blue light drips
from your beads to cover
your beautiful breasts
with a clear african dawn.”
Posted by: eeyore · Jan 26, 11:45 AM · #
I just noticed – I posted lyrics from Gone Daddy Gone, Susan posted lyrics from Kiss Off, but Angie’s are from Add It Up.
All gospel songs sound the same? :)
Posted by: KATIE · Jan 26, 12:25 PM · #
yes but katie, yours are stuck playing in my head for the next 72 hours.
Posted by: eeyore · Jan 26, 12:53 PM · #
You are in my lap, sweet one. I brought you a galaxy in my five-fold hand outstretched. It is not the Void.but an illusion of That Which Is Nameless.
Are you looking at the fear in the flame of union, yes, no? The Nectar adrenaline is sweet to the inner tongue and I who am half predator and half prey creep up on you. As Above So Bellow. I prowl about you and stalk you only to pounce and hug you in my love-play as the Serpent sinuously encircles the Heart glowing with the cremation embers, fanned by the wings of a Dove.
Neeeeey. No. C.
Cool, let the Ashes cool.
You must dance, play and feast, for there is only this. WORDS.
Posted by: zee · Jan 26, 01:18 PM · #
I have seen a thousand thousand civilizations rise and fall upon the Mother of All Things.
We remain
The Stars are my Eyes. I leap out of All these as the Arch-Archon Maya, the Illusion that binds all things. Yet by the bonds that web all things are the ten-thousand things nourished – the ropes of illusion are the veins of life. HA!
No-thing has changed or ever was. All illusions change as rapidly as That-which-projects-illusion changes. WE ARE the Stage and incorporate all Pieces in the Game as well as the Player
Each Seed has an essence which it must fulfill as it grows… Until it too becomes that which will be a Seed again
Nothing dies, the wit is to ask what is not always alive! I weary now of words and go now to Play; listen…
Posted by: zee · Jan 26, 01:44 PM · #
Stop being cute, everyone! Stop it!
(Except for you, Eeyore. You don’t know how to stop. And I lOVE it when you speak Brautigan. And except for you Zee: you need to stop being brilliant and lovey—the combination is brutal!)
Don’t you know I’m mad at my blog! No blogging! Not even to list the hundred links about aliens in Stephensville, Texas, that I really need to share with you!
I’m mad! Mad owl! No more blogging!
I’m going to the beach!
Stop being cute!
Posted by: (0v0) · Jan 26, 01:54 PM · #
(Owl, let me finish, I am on the roll)
.See this Seed before you?
Another race to come.
And here! One that has found root in the stellar dust
Spin your star webs – I shall flow from chalice to chalice for naught is alien to I. Leap in me, Grow through me, Kill in the bloodlust of the animal and I will BE. What is this urge, this stirring within you? You pace, frenzy, worry, quarrel – GO!
Find the Wild Home you abandoned for your petty civilized ways.
I am PAN, and there is NO WORD. Cold and colder are the Ice Caves of Forever, therein Entropy mates with Dissolution in the ending of Those-who-were-with-us. Therein the Children of the Morning dance , forming the Sigils of Evermore. The Dance dances, the Circle cycles, the Sky is open to the Earth. Nothing is what it will be; all is MUST.
Stab the Dark to find the light bleeding through the body and brain of ALL THAT. PAN, who is Gate in Man. To understand ‘BE’ with the contentment of be-ing in consequence of the volcanic essence that fills the over-teeming Sea with ONE/NONE
Posted by: zee · Jan 26, 01:58 PM · #
You are Pan???
This is fucking brutal! What are you—satyr and sage, Zee? Fuck!
Leave me be! Stop!!!
Also, who is this “Angie”?
And when is someone going to post the lyrics to I Hate the TV?
I hate my blog!
I’m telling you—I’m going to the beach! I am LEAVING!
Posted by: (0v0) · Jan 26, 02:02 PM · #
(you always stop me… shame)
NEXUS MUNDI – CONSUMATUM EST
Posted by: zee · Jan 26, 02:02 PM · #
:)
I’m interested in sublimating your vital energies. Ask Eeyore about this.
Maybe I need another secret society in my life? As if.
The revolution will not be televised.
Really, I am going to the beach now. You all are being too cute. I can’t resist you any other way.
No more blog! I’m MAD! No more blog!!!
Posted by: (0v0) · Jan 26, 02:07 PM · #
a rat done bit my sister nell.
Posted by: laksmi · Jan 26, 09:05 PM · #
ouch babe, where?
Posted by: eeyore · Jan 26, 09:19 PM · #
And her face and arms began to swell,
And Whitey’s on the moon…
Posted by: Susan · Jan 26, 10:05 PM · #
Did you go to the beach? We all love you even if you are mad at the blog.
xxxxx
Posted by: Anna · Jan 27, 08:03 AM · #
Please don’t be mad at me. I’m a good little blog. Sure I crash ocassionally, but we’ve had some pretty fun times, haven’t we?
Please post the Saturday links and let’s pretend that nothing happened!
Love,
Your Blog :)
Posted by: YOUR BLOG · Jan 28, 11:14 AM · #
Oh blog. It’s not you. I’m just getting some perspective on losing my temper with you the other day.
I rarely get angry in person anymore, but sometimes I still lose my temper at the internet. What is that about, blog?
Whatever it is, I think it’s good.
Maybe you are showing me a dimension of things that’s actually harder to see in RL? In RL I tend to come off looking pretty together, but here it is more complicated. Your openness and your complexity are alluring, but you’re a little crazy. You know that? The more I get to know you, the more complicated you get. Which is strange, because as you know I am transparent, easygoing and simple in RL. Really.
It’s weird. I’m not breaking up with you or anything. You know I don’t think it’s healthy to leave relationships hanging without coming back to peace.
I just don’t want to blame you when something comes up that makes me mad. You know? Don’t start seeing other avatars or anything. I’ll come back to you when I am ready.
Posted by: (0v0) · Jan 28, 12:02 PM · #
Yes, well I never said that time apart wouldn’t be good for us.
A blog is no different than any other child or creation. You can have all of the good intentions in the world, you can teach it and pour your love and heart into it, but in the end you can’t control what it becomes. You can influence, you can cajole, but you can’t control. It’s scary, frustrating and beautiful, all at the same time.
I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk!
XOXOXOX,
Your Blog
(p.s. I love you, even when I’m going through my adolescent mood swings.)
Posted by: YOUR BLOG · Jan 28, 12:17 PM · #
Thanks, love.
Also:
Blog is in control.
Blog is in control.
Blog is in control.
Blog is in control.
This is cracking me up!
Posted by: (0v0) · Jan 28, 06:16 PM · #
Oh. I guess I could explain that.
Ok. So I have a sneaking suspicion that believing in a personalistic, unitary-actor God is childish and narcissistic. Oh come on. You have the same suspicion, I bet, about the world-outside-the-world theory of the transcendent.
As I am finding the leftovers of the all-determining God inside my mind, I’m realizing how much it’s just about grasping for control. Because that’s when not believing is painful: when I realize I’m adrift and just wish there were somebody up in the sky watching, out there making things happen “for a reason,” out there caring about me personally. When I hit existential moments like this one, I hear the Christian Fundamentalist mantra for remedying run-of-the-mill existential freakouts:
God is in control
God is in control
God is in control
God is in control
To be chanted in waiting rooms, foxholes, and failing airplanes. My situation isn’t anywhere near that existential… but then blog is in control is not really as comforting, either.
Ok, blog, you want control?
Go ahead. I’ll make you a T-shirt.
I’m still ignoring you for a while yet though.
Posted by: (0v0) · Jan 28, 06:22 PM · #
We’ve laid the cables and the wires
We’ve split the wood and stoked
the fires
We’ve lit our town so there is no
Place for crime to hide
Our little church is painted white
And in the safety of the night
We all go quiet as a mouse
For the word is out
God is in the house
God is in the house
God is in the house
No cause for worry now
God is in the house
Moral sneaks in the White House
Computer geeks in the school house
Drug freaks in the crack house
We don’t have that stuff here
We have a tiny little Force
But we need them of course
For the kittens in the trees
And at night we are on our knees
As quiet as a mouse
For God is in the house
God is in the house
God is in the house
And no one’s left in doubt
God is in the house
Homos roaming the streets in packs
Queer bashers with tyre-jacks
Lesbian counter-attacks
That stuff is for the big cities
Our town is very pretty
We have a pretty little square
We have a woman for a mayor
Our policy is firm but fair
Now that God is in the house
God is in the house
God is in the house
Any day now He’ll come out
God is in the house
Well-meaning little therapists
Goose-stepping twelve-stepping Tetotalitarianists
The tipsy, the reeling and the drop down pissed
We got no time for that stuff here
Zero crime and no fear
We’ve bred all our kittens white
So you can see them in the night
And at night we’re on our knees
As quiet as a mouse
Since the word got out
From the North down to the South
For no-one’s left in doubt
There’s no fear about
If we all hold hands and very quietly shout
Hallelujah
God is in the house
God is in the house
Oh I wish He would come out
God is in the house
Damn..I wish I could link it to the actual song itself.
Posted by: Susan · Jan 28, 07:37 PM · #
and the subtle body again, if the gross body is snuzin:)feeling/hearing herself singing her song, then the subtle body is snuzin’s memory of those feelings? and both are reals, made up of the particulate matter that makes up the universe? it makes sense.
or, if snuzin eats a pumpkin pie, the gross body is her tooths biting through the pumpkin, and the subtle body is the taste of the pumpkins? or subtle body as her memory of the taste of the pumpkins?
Posted by: eeyore · Jan 29, 10:09 AM · #
All that the stuff I made the pie with is the subtle body, and the pie is the gross body.
But I don’t go for all that ana maya kosha jive…
I do go for pumpkin pies though. I am the pumpkin pie. We are all the pumpkin pie.
The pumpkin pie is the universal consciousness. Therefore if we eat the pumpkin pie we are eating the universe. Or at least a tasty pie.
DO you think OWL likes the pumpkin pie Eeyore?
Posted by: Susan · Jan 29, 05:09 PM · #
i hope owl tastes like pumpkin pie! pumpkin pie = god, carrot cake = satan, heaven and hell are the two sides of the same coin, but i still prefer pumpkin pie.
Posted by: eeyore · Jan 29, 08:07 PM · #
Hi (0v0)
You can’t control what the blog becomes? Ooo. Can’t be true. Shouldn’t be true. If Madonna reinvents herself each season, why can’t the blog do so as well?
Cheers, Arturo
Posted by: arturo · Jan 29, 09:09 PM · #
Dear Bog,
What you pretend to be is never as great as who you really are.
or
Tell me what you eat and i’ll tell you who you are.
Yours toujours,
Auguste Escoffier
Posted by: eeyore · Jan 29, 10:03 PM · #
www.youtube.com/watch/?v=8LxYNq3Rv6w
Posted by: eeyore · Jan 29, 11:02 PM · #
or
www.youtube.com/watch?v=8LxYNq3Rv6w
Posted by: eeyore · Jan 29, 11:10 PM · #
Dj. otZi and the Hermes house band
Are back in the house!!!!
Are you ready to partyyyyyyyyyyyy?
YUP.. serendipity, indeed. :)
It took some time to process or digest… it is a surprise even to myself.
Here we GO !
Here we GO !
Here we GO !
I would like to see the male striper Mr. Ahuho tomorrow… 11:45AM in that nice leather chair.
One
Two
Tree
JUMP, JUMP, JUMP… Life is LIVE... live is LIFE
Posted by: zee · Jan 30, 05:45 PM · #
zee, you make me big smile! good luck buying one of those hermes bags, try a saddle, instead.
Posted by: eeyore · Jan 30, 08:13 PM · #
Hi eeyore. I hear that people sell on Ebay the bags in which purchases at Hermes are placed. I’m not sure what people would use them for, perhaps as a fancy lunch bag? This causes the store to shred their left over bags, so people don’t grab them off the trash receptacles. Strange, no? We must be puzzling (0v0).
Cheers, Arturo
Posted by: arturo · Jan 30, 08:37 PM · #
well ya, good point, Arturo, so much for raygunomics trickle-down, etc. not only can we not affor a Kelly(?) bag, we can’t even afford the bag they put the Kelly bag into! because they shred it!!
Posted by: eeyore · Jan 30, 08:45 PM · #
so, we’re back in france,
www.youtube.com/watch?v=KxPocYISWJ8&NR=1
Posted by: eeyore · Jan 30, 09:42 PM · #
Hahahahhahaha
Ok, ok… this is a priceless lesson for me. Thanks. :)
That is why I called for the male striper. He is the best. I missed him twice. Silly me-zee.
Posted by: Zee · Jan 31, 09:49 AM · #
I think at least two people take turns being Zee. Maybe more than two.
Posted by: Carl · Jan 31, 12:23 PM · #
Could be. Zee is mystery.
Maybe it is not the main requested stripper, maybe it is my cousin he is preparing to be a future stripper. OR wow, it could be current exotic dancer. ;) Who knows Zee? I don’t..
Posted by: Zee · Jan 31, 01:27 PM · #
We all contain multitudes; it’s true Zee.
I am glad you are talking about Hermes! You are on the right track.
Arturo, your comment about control is interesting. Maybe "my blog" was sort of referring something I was talking about earlier: to the degree that your online identity is contrived, there is the possibility for your unconscious to leak out around the edges of the avatar. We think we control an avatar, but through it our unconscious is on display to the world! When I say “the blog is in control,” I mean I’m letting my unconscious take the reigns a bit. Wouldn’t that be a wonderful way to blog? Free-associatively? And then just look at the crazy shit your unconscious blurted out during the exercise? A lot of times we try to control exactly what message we give off, but maybe there are other (more contemplative) ways of writing… in which the blog somewhat writes itself. Maybe.
About the radio silence: Tova and Vanessa both asked me to say why I continue to remain silent, so I wrote them this long, terribly boring private email today. Boring! If you want to see it, drop me a line and maybe I’ll let you. Maybe.
Oh and pumpkin is the only pie for me. Preferably chilled and for breakfast, the way I just to have it back on the Ranch as a girl. Back when the pumpkins out in the patch were bigger than me.
They were big pumpkins though.
Posted by: (0v0) · Jan 31, 02:36 PM · #
Often, we must explain the words we say. It’s understandable. But why must we explain ourselves when we don’t say any words?
Posted by: Carl · Jan 31, 03:23 PM · #