Tuesday, May 13, 2008

This just in

info3

red hot info channelled into tv, wireless iv dripping tidbits into you and me, intelli-zombies, so we go to work tomorrow telling the few who still don't know, oh my god the info, oil dripping into the cogs of the reality-machine, web spreading in a spider forest, ink spreading lazily in a sea (no that's blood)

there's no learning, only upgrades, only blurbs and buzzword cusswords, only fresh obituaries plus a hint of kiss and tell, admiring locust but 'tis just shell, losing focus so it's hard to tell, to hell you say we're going laughing flaming downward spiral? that's what I heard on my wristradio while flipping through the dial, something about the seventh wave of something viral in the Nile

manmade planet of insanity, I can handle your deadends, your checkmates, and your barbs, but somehow you have no point, no reason, no hope to ease the pain

of datastreams teeming with pathos and fads oft fed to slaves

fiberoptic kingdom sending signals into general population, oh perception has been compromised, common moneybagmen overproducing glossy nothings that catch the light just right, every show live and scripted, televised and shapeshifted, non-informing but descriptive, every newscast a satire and comedy our only refuge.

Saturday, May 3, 2008

Albert Hoffman, Father of LSD, Dies at age 102

LSD
traveling magically and non-habit-forming, deforming the consciousness and culture with perfected reality torture. ripping away the veil and tripping as we all inhale a cloud of burnt up dreams (a phoneix nest of if and next)

ashes to ashes father hoffman, the one that sired psychedalia in my teenage mind, allowed me to hate myself lovingly and laugh at the joke the universe constantly tells. i wonder if perhaps you've taken the eternal trip, truly tasted the godflesh, imploded in some elegant singularity.

perhaps, perhaps you now know the dreams of the sleep of death.

regardless, you were something else and a wealthy soul, full of knowledge and chaos and questions that nobody knew existed. Father Hoffman, you mixed up visions to show the body a prison and the heady minds rage on in your wake.
My photo
Fort Worth, Texas, United States

i am soft darkness, blurring 'round the edges, i never leave a light on when i leave the room, cosuming everything i touch, how could so much nothing weigh me down? i found solace catatonic, twisting me in damp sheets, compleletly cured of nightmare and living endless dream.