The Nova Mob(Polygon_Cities)
The computer currently being used is crashing so I'm not sure if this will get posted but fuck it. Got some Monolake in the head phones, and feelings I can't describe. This is a cut-up of the originator of the cut-up William S. Burroughs. The inspiration for this comes from the angst, awkwardness, and jaded vibes I got from so many of the elder ravers at the Paxahau seven year anniversary. You know who you are so if you want to talk about the politics of dancing or just want to post your poetry in response, bring it on. her goes.................................................
IT IS NECESSARY TO TRAVEL...
"It is necessary to travel. It is not necessary to live." These words inspired early investigators when the vast frontier of unknown seas opened to their sails in the fifteenth century. Space is the new frontier. Is this frontier open to youth? I quote from the London Daily Express, December 30, 1968: "If you are a fit young man under twenty-five with lightning reflexes who fears nothing in heaven or on earth and has a keen appetite for adventure don't bother to apply for the job of astronaut."They want "cool dads" trailing wires to the "better half" from an aqualung. Dr. Paine of the Space Center in Houston says:"this flight was a triumph for the squares of this world who aren't ashamed to say a prayer now and then." Is this the great adventure of space? Are these men going to take the step into regions literally unthinkable in verbal terms? To travel in space you must leave the old verbal garbage behind: God talk, country talk, mother talk, love talk, party talk. You must learn to exist with no religion, no country, no allies. You must learn to live alone in silence. Anyone who prays in space is not there.
The last frontier is being closed to youth. However there are many roads to space. To achieve complete freedom from past conditioning is to be in space.
Techniques exist for achieving such freedom. These techniques are being concealed and withheld. We must search for and consider techniques for discovery.
Last Words
LISTEN TO MY LAST WORDS anywhere. Listen to my last words any world. Listen all you boards syndicates and governments of the earth. And you powers behind what filth deals consummated in what lavatory to take what is not yours. To sell the ground from unborn feet forever-
"Don't let them see us. Don't tell them what we are doing-"
Are these the words of the all-powerful boards and syndicates of the earth?
"For God's sake don't let that Coca-Cola thing out-"
"Not The Cancer Deal with the Venusians-"
"Not The Green Deal-Don't show them that-"
"Not The Orgasm Death-"
"Not The ovens-"
QUICK . . .
white flash... mangled insect screams...
I woke up with the taste of metal in my mouth back from the dead
trailing the colorless death smell
afterbirth of a withered grey monkey
phantom twinges of amputation...
"Taxi boys waiting for a pickup," Eduardo said and died of an overdose in Madrid....
Powder trains burn back through pink convulsions of tumescent flesh
...set off flash bulbs of orgasm...pin-point photos of arrested motion
...smooth brown side twisted to light a cigarette.....
He stood there in a 1920 straw hat somebody gave him ... soft mendicant words falling like dead birds in the dark street....
"No...No more... No mas..."
A heaving sea of air hammers in the purple brown dusk tainted with rotten metal smell of sewer gas... young workers faces vibrating out of focus in yellow halos of carbide lanterns... broken pipes exposed....
"They are rebuilding the city."
Lee nodded absently.... "Yes....Always...."
Either way is a bad move to The East Wing....
If I knew I'd be glad to tell you....
"No good ... no bueno ... hustling myself...."
"No glot ... C'lom Fliday"
Tangier, 1959
IT IS NECESSARY TO TRAVEL...
"It is necessary to travel. It is not necessary to live." These words inspired early investigators when the vast frontier of unknown seas opened to their sails in the fifteenth century. Space is the new frontier. Is this frontier open to youth? I quote from the London Daily Express, December 30, 1968: "If you are a fit young man under twenty-five with lightning reflexes who fears nothing in heaven or on earth and has a keen appetite for adventure don't bother to apply for the job of astronaut."They want "cool dads" trailing wires to the "better half" from an aqualung. Dr. Paine of the Space Center in Houston says:"this flight was a triumph for the squares of this world who aren't ashamed to say a prayer now and then." Is this the great adventure of space? Are these men going to take the step into regions literally unthinkable in verbal terms? To travel in space you must leave the old verbal garbage behind: God talk, country talk, mother talk, love talk, party talk. You must learn to exist with no religion, no country, no allies. You must learn to live alone in silence. Anyone who prays in space is not there.
The last frontier is being closed to youth. However there are many roads to space. To achieve complete freedom from past conditioning is to be in space.
Techniques exist for achieving such freedom. These techniques are being concealed and withheld. We must search for and consider techniques for discovery.
Last Words
LISTEN TO MY LAST WORDS anywhere. Listen to my last words any world. Listen all you boards syndicates and governments of the earth. And you powers behind what filth deals consummated in what lavatory to take what is not yours. To sell the ground from unborn feet forever-
"Don't let them see us. Don't tell them what we are doing-"
Are these the words of the all-powerful boards and syndicates of the earth?
"For God's sake don't let that Coca-Cola thing out-"
"Not The Cancer Deal with the Venusians-"
"Not The Green Deal-Don't show them that-"
"Not The Orgasm Death-"
"Not The ovens-"
QUICK . . .
white flash... mangled insect screams...
I woke up with the taste of metal in my mouth back from the dead
trailing the colorless death smell
afterbirth of a withered grey monkey
phantom twinges of amputation...
"Taxi boys waiting for a pickup," Eduardo said and died of an overdose in Madrid....
Powder trains burn back through pink convulsions of tumescent flesh
...set off flash bulbs of orgasm...pin-point photos of arrested motion
...smooth brown side twisted to light a cigarette.....
He stood there in a 1920 straw hat somebody gave him ... soft mendicant words falling like dead birds in the dark street....
"No...No more... No mas..."
A heaving sea of air hammers in the purple brown dusk tainted with rotten metal smell of sewer gas... young workers faces vibrating out of focus in yellow halos of carbide lanterns... broken pipes exposed....
"They are rebuilding the city."
Lee nodded absently.... "Yes....Always...."
Either way is a bad move to The East Wing....
If I knew I'd be glad to tell you....
"No good ... no bueno ... hustling myself...."
"No glot ... C'lom Fliday"
Tangier, 1959