_

months gone imagery

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 18:00:00 +0000

Have three new pains, I think they were pains, to add to the solemn LIST OF PAINS. But were they merely illnesses. And was it three pains? I think it may have been a bundle, travelling through me, tumbling as it went (the bundle) to show (me) a few qualities. Every pain is a demonstration. And a collaboration of demonstrations may serve enough to be known as one solitary illness.

Light, velocity, and a little meat.

Or we may say "supper"

wherein I have a dream during my birthday

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 16:24:00 +0000

In one dream I saw Robin Blaser and Jack Kerouac. On the somewhat raised (pulpit?) part of a tatty lecture hall. A mediocre table, an un-theatrical useless curtain, an absolutely faulty projector.

Blaser wanted to discuss some overuse/ repetition, of one word (I couldn't hear well in this dream) in Kerouac's poem.
said Kerouac: "A word is another word for candle flame."
Blaser, I think, nodded. He could nod well, Blaser. While he was alive. Now he's dead he doesn't nod.

In my dream Blaser nodded to what Kerouac had to say. Kerouac had more to say. He said:

"An assassin is not always assassinating. Sometimes an assassin is a grocery shopper."

Blaser knows this. They are all just chums.

This one dream switched off.

forlorn forest, a glance left

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Fri, 23 Sep 2011 06:41:00 +0000



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forlorn forest, a turning the right

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Fri, 23 Sep 2011 06:40:00 +0000



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forlorn forest, a one view a

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Fri, 23 Sep 2011 06:39:00 +0000



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radiant view from radiant life #1

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Tue, 02 Aug 2011 09:41:00 +0000

it is not such a good photo, but better than rightist hair arrange assemblies for goodness sake

wisps welts

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Tue, 02 Aug 2011 08:51:00 +0000

Late 1984 - 1985: Willem de Kooning paints a triptych. (DK612)
The triptych was for St. Peter's Church in New York City. An assistant pastor had read an article about de Kooning that had appeared in The New York Times Magazine on November 20, 1983 and was struck by de Kooning's comments on the Matisse Chapel at Venice in which he said "I'd like to do something like that if somebody would commission me to do it." (DK612-3) If de Kooning would agree to do the triptych for their church, the church would first display it and if the congregation approved, the church would seek a donor to come up with the $900,000 purchase price. (DK613) The finished triptych was titled Hallelujah and installed behind the altar of the church in the autumn of 1985. Seven weeks later it was removed after complaints from the congregation." from here

(I can no longer remember where this information all comes from etc, it was a while ago, I am trying to compensate further for the rightist hair arrangements, i am so sorry about all that)

"His late style is a moving goodbye. There is no miserly holding on . . . He seems to empty out his art, like the man who wants to give everything away before he dies" -something found in "new York magazine"

I want to see late-period de Kooning paintings in a real life condition please.

I must be terrible old-fashion'd.

Everyone is showing rabid interest in fonts and "design", and trainers, and if not that then , I don't know, maybe conceptual artings, though I don't hate anything of any of those areas, just lack a rabid interest in them. I know myself enough to know what garners rabid interest and what doesn't. Maybe I should just try harder.

(here is something else about mr deKooning: http://artblogbybob.blogspot.com/2008/04/not-fade-away.html

I think there is a 70s period painting somewhere in shizuoka. Other than that, it seems america must be travelled to, but I don't think I would like america, and would need a perpetual supply of ecstasty or tranquil pills to cope with it all. But america, I have been to you in several dreams and it wasn't all bad. But america, "go fuck yourself with your atom bomb" // in the meantime -- america, I am quoting one of your own poets so don't get offended / america, I love a whole big bunch of your poets / and your painters / though quite a few are actually from europe / it is hard to tell quite what you are america / I love you really america / and I like milkshakes

+ anthony braxton

compulsory cat dead cat edition double feature compensate for rightist haircuts

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Tue, 02 Aug 2011 08:29:00 +0000

here are two actual cats, I knew them well, they no longer exist. the siamesey one in particular, was my longest companion in life before obtaining wife-thing. We often meet in dreams, thank goodness.

around about encounter enemy

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Tue, 02 Aug 2011 08:03:00 +0000

forlorns , despondants

recently (if it is not always) I was saddened, by a glut of stuffs.
feel sickly nervous for probably reasonable reasons?

had some sad feelings about an acquaintance getting all tory right-wing, explanation for which (in an email) eerily foreshadowed the oslo right wing murder shooter's general thought-stuff.

eerie that this sprouts all seemingly over europe etc

the right wing thought which is a form of magical thinking, it gets me down. Also the tendency of such people to presume all sorts of things about peoples never met. Presumptions concocted on a mere whim, whimsy prejudice formed as a basis of their further magick thinkings.
terrible way to use a life and its brain. Aspersions cast willy-nilly.

these are sighfull days.

Like for example, here are some staunch rightists:

Surely these are the worst haircuts ever assembled in one place? It is too horrible an image, I will delete it in a few days.

in other events, I was watching the murdoch questioning bullshit and wondered what this painting is, in the "portucullis house", wikipedia page of which does not address particulars of furnishings.

looks rothko-ish and with a ghost at the left?

Also there was an actual encounter with an actual enemy, it is too awful to discuss any further right now, but these have surely been some forlorn days and weeks and month, my, oh dear.

meander tail-off mithers (or add ons) in fall songs (or supplements)

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Fri, 15 Jul 2011 08:39:00 +0000

I like the above (title) mentioned features of some songs by "the fall", I am reminded of the "alluvials" mentioned by kerouac in some letter or something gone missing sorry. I mean when the song is fairly ended but a spoken almost line or two extra is added and seems to encapsulate the something or other essence of said song aforementioned capped, or possibly it is a snippet of one performance happily recorded when a reaching past the usual limit was attempted, duende-style -- I am not generally interested in lyric content all that much so dislike often "singer-songwriter" peoples but here is a lyric gloop that acts physical with the musical thing like a particular gaah-ガ～～ moment and so it is like a shred of important nonsense.

examples: from "paranoid man in cheap shit room":
"sky calendar bar home -- speculates[w.chuckling]" -- this is not on the peel session version. Has many lyric highpoints:
"serial number 5 4 1 2 9" "his neighbours now / are listening to this" "goes down to the dance / very clever" "puts his head down / when girls pass in the street" "on trips mental inertia" "just like I told ya / refers to karaoke" -- are just some I hastily transcribe with errors almost guaranteed.

the stunning wry last seconds of "weather report 2":
"never mind / ??/ what about sex sounds/ recording of lost london / you don't deserve rock n roll" +[intake of breath as if to say something else but instead it ends there] (and end of album too)

and lastly "he pep" which may be current most-favoured song by "the fall":
"you had the best summer / and now it's wearing off / no more excuses / for your traitorism" -- and in its peel session version it ends extended alluvially as follows:
"... to the old guard / in the cold dark winter / on the 17th of December"

shadows of small trees like dead things lain in little lamp light

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Fri, 03 Jun 2011 08:52:00 +0000

It's wobble world.

Glancing at mirror yesterday afternoon I was interested, and a bit worried, to find a prominent pool of blood in my left eye. Then I became a happier person.

Because the specifics of trouble are, they disrupt your usual self. If your usual self is a twat you are happy for the disruption.

So night comes and I'm ready for disaster. Sure of it.

This specifics of all troubles shall simply be called WOUND

What is the importance of WOUND? WOUND is of great importance.

What does this importance consist of? Of its interference in the twatty self.

NOTE: none of this works if you are one of those annoying persons at ease in even the most minor way, with world and self, between world and self no schism, and in self no schism, and not seeing the world a-schism from any view. Get. Read this: IN COLD HELL IN THICKET or something

CONTD: in that under disruption of twatty self (by WOUND interference) escape (a little escape) is entailed and one can act a bit more freely, at long last, like when Kerouac drinks a poorboy of ruby port in an alley in san francisco and is admonished by stuffy old Snyder, for a while, you may want to play on the pavement.

Importance of scrubbed knees elbows of childtimes ・・・

READ THIS: otomo yoshihide essay it is indescribably brilliant, well it doesn't need to be described does it? Just read it.

CONTD: the interference of WOUND-EVENT disrupts like something going a bit off its course, other directions come into possibility-present-space (possibility frontier route realm anew) and

and? What it is I am saying, I assure you I don't know. I shall no longer believe in any vibrancy in health, and will delight at every circumstance that teasingly implies the trauma at the back of it all. And consequently, hypocritically, welcome vibrancy states of high mighty resonance

and ELIMINATE FATE! because: fixed course no longer

no more penned and herded

-- 3rd of June, 2011

rerradddiant LUNATIC ghosts

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Thu, 26 May 2011 11:59:00 +0000

transfixing live stream of fukushima dai-ichi doom plant is here: Very misty, it has been hazy too for a while now in tokyo. The sky is ill-defined. I mean here are no clouds to stand out against the sky, there is no blue sky, has all been fug these last days. The moon glows through haze. The sun, I don't think I have even seen it.

What if, someone said on conspiracy website, all blue skies ever seen were in fact induced memories to hide the un-blue skies of the real. what are they hiding? people ask on conspiracy website forums. We recall the term "screen memory" and its relation to abduction scenarios.
yesterday the sun was distant through a haze, and the moon, when it was night, close (it is closer than the sun, remember) through a haze. The haze. In the nighttime of the fukushima live stream drifts a throng of particles or low resolution nighttime pixel semblance. Abandon previous scenarios.

Wait, night of last week(18th May), shocking red swollen moon over tokyo

I saw a crow zooming back to its nest with a coat hanger in its intelligent mouth.
I read a red moon was seen in kobe before its big earthquake (1995?) I read they say it is two, three days after, then the earthquake. frogs leave four days before. Whales and other sea inhabitants kill themselves as communities.
These are all just observations.

Another coat hanger was rejected and deposited on top of the public announcement speaker post thing.

I like moths.

This moth (the photo does not show maybe, the following wonderful details) has a sort of spotty white one piece (I only knew the word "one piece" since I came here) (what is the difference, between a "dress" and a "one piece"? I need to know) (I like one pieces) and a fur collar, it is very charming.

Perhaps it is dead now.

Also a horse fly appeared, I wrote about it a bit, for one of these "blog entries", but it tailed off, it went:

A "horsefly" I think has entered the domicile, the weather balmy and an electric light being attractive. A horsefly is a very big fly, thinner, longer, more frightening (normal flies are not frightening unless looked at under microscope), less frightening than cockroach, so, I am turning my back on it even. I burned some incense, thinking it will do something

-- then it tailed off. Unpromising.

Then I read on wikipedia how the female horse fly drinks 330 ml approximately of blood. That is like a can of coke or other popular soft drink. So I was eager for the horse fly to go away.

I once wrote a failed attempted but failed unpromising "blog entry" about a soft drink, it went:

In singular moment of wild spontaneity, I -- late at night it was -- purchased from a vending machine a 500ml can of famous american drink "mountain dew"

Never before had I tasted "mountain dew"

What did I know about "mountain dew"? That it was the drink of choice for every male-gendered american science fiction writer, drunk by the gallon while working on 6-volume prequel series tying up those plot points in that novella published in that anthology came out last weekend.

What do you now know about "mountain dew"?

that's all, before the tailing off. I was going to describe the taste, the colour, of mountain dew. To be honest, it was not such a great drink. Recently I have been drinking teas, bottled teas, green teas, the oolong tea, and the jasmine tea. In bottles (oh I mentioned that already) when coming home from drinking, entering the convenience store, to buy some "soft drink" for the embattled morning to come.

I am worried that insect life is not so numerous recently.

from somewhere a quote:

"At a go board you have to expel all your desires. Yet retain a certain fighting spirit ????"

Can't remember any sensible purpose behind all this post, so have a rest, end here, why not, or round abouts, here-ness.

This has been a graveyard.

THOUGHTINGS ON, HAINO KEIJI ALL-NIGHT 30th(31st) December

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Tue, 10 May 2011 09:16:00 +0000

Here's a problem: how to speak of what's unpopular, (no it's not a problem, unless you insist on the whatever-you-think-as-already)something that lacks a framework (it is abundant in framework but is not immediate to be known so it gets so people are saying "where is the structure?" -- here and everywhere for fuck sake -- or for fuck sake why care about a "framework" whether it is there or not? What would you know about it? it seems to limit everything to being a carefelt welldone parcelling wrapping of something you were expecting anyway. The best crooned-over packaging is of unexpected gift-stuff) that does not pertain mainly to its own quality which needs to be experienced itself fully and sort of over and over ? (so I insist on not worrying about it then)

see so I will scuttle all that before I wrote (hasn't this taken too long a time -- what value does it have? -- isn't it past any idea (value) now? -- so it gives (what "it"?) allowance to strike out ("it" = just right time I suppose) I now believe that Haino Keiji is very misunderstood. (among many such things then) Misgivings, from those who don't immediatly splutter b-b-but, this isn't music?! tend to focus on his image and performance style/movements, in order to lay a claim of inauthenticity. One such statement is from someone who wrote the biography of a famous free improviser, wherein free improvisation was, I think, extolled as music free from capitalist worming and so on. --course, HK is neither a free improviser as such, nor was he born in sheffield. But the claim of inauthenticty comes from that thinking, all tendencies to evoke images beyond the readily untended there are glisten and advertisal/ predatory marketing//

extract from stricken extract: misunderstood: misgivings: inauthenticity: all tendencies to evoke image beyond present the ready unintended lot there glisten adverterial, predatory, marketing, strike ?

best not to speak all that very much?

Summary of Events:
Vocal only song, almost reading, from lyric sheets (I assume) two or more microphones each arriving the voice at a different place in the audience chamber. Stereo, spectre. I had predicted a primitive "black blues" sound with alterations as from the "aihiyou" corpus, based on the revelation of "seijaku" -- after the initial mesmerising unaccompanied singing a blind siding, explicit techno/trance electronica sort of realm that propogated in many remarkable ways. This is of course the Pan[a]Sonic influence as there had been collobarations with such recent years. There was a lush loop formed in the machine noise and a flute was played over this. "Ancients" spectral presence. Here the first occurrence that evening of phantom musics as emergent phenomena -- not music being played but being caused to appear -- summoned, from back of time, first evoked musics, what did it sound like? Sort of evokes these concerns: history, of music, probably he would say music's "secret", and the codes present in instruments, transmission of. A search, exploration, of all possible vectors along which, through, thereby . . . performance transpires?

It was a while ago, but I found some (very sparse) notes: after the techno there emerged the song called "coco/koko - ここ" = "here" /not entire song, and wrongly attributed to solo album 'keeping on breathing'/ there's a big chord build up at the beginning of the full thing, I tried playing it to some japanese boys in a terrible dormitory - "these aren't chords" they said/([ _ ] *~) = last track of fushitsusha live 1 -- half hour solo version around somewhere -- "here" seemed to become "fuwa-fuwa - ふわふわ" = [sensation of]"floating" or something like that -- returned to "here" -- and then, must have been forming some loops, "acchi - あっち" = "there" = as in 'over there', rather than 'here' -- with flute! These songs and the cycling through them is a core aspect of his performances, has been for quite a while. Evidence: I Said, This is the Son of Nihilism hour long single track recording -- from about 18 minutes you get the fully present "here" and it goes along as ways I have just here suggested. Bundle of triangle fushitsusha core plus attachments orbiting to be plucked whenever wanted by the focal performance centre-ing musician.

SAMSARA WHEEL:

Perhaps it seemed ten years ago rythmic patterns had the danger of imprisoning the flow in any live situation, now he deftly improvises out of a vast bundle of such forms, often seeming to show how they are related. They are at hand to manifest, then be reconfigured, juxtaposed, mosaic built in process of wild form. In fact, this is how fushitsusha progressed, at least when following the order of album releases: initial song forms are presented (Live 1) extended (Live 2) then mingled, bred, mutated, dismantled and revived, all processes between (everything subsequent). Then after the apparent dissolution of band we were shown the 1978 recording, in which everything was revealed to have already occurred. This record was called "it was eternity that reached out first " . . .

. . . In the nowadays, for Haino Keiji, the blues form has become a perfect means of extracting various chord structures and then eloping elsewhere, in an unadorned primitive sound style. Also, he has found a way to be more direct, the imperative tone directed, probably, at universe as a whole, in a frantic prayer way.

band: SEIJAKU currently new trio, based on blues-form. Seems as an aihiyou-derived, stripped down, plus fushitsusha ghost resonance continuation. I am off to see performance in one hour or so. Was re-scheduled, from day of earthquake. 2 months have passed . . .

3rd of May I went to birthday live, I will attach self-discussion of that event, to here end somewhat, soon, when I can, which is soon, or it is not soon, when I can is not soon, is when it is done.

For the moment please excuse me. Here is a video of the encore performance of the 30/31st solo night live under discussion in the above. it is probably 8 in morning. Exhaustion of audience, and ears of them, has passed and a glee of being a bit battered has made everything pristine in sound-appearance and everyone is tough to keep up and have things happen more and more, everyone safe, fairly happy, we had been cacooned within this gentleman's musicianhood,so:

碁盤 the second, radiant-among and frock

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Wed, 13 Apr 2011 15:28:00 +0000

I managed to do another sunday go tournament match following-along. Two young men a 7dan and an 8dan perhaps. They both had quite an energy and seemed eager to create interesting conflicts, in a calm manner.

They also, both, seemed ready to sacrifice an invasion clump in each others corners on the left side, black upper, white lower, but as I think you can see, black was more successful. I was thinking of these invasive clumps as yin-yan lungs or something.

It was very interesting at the time when they first seemed to discard each spot and then go back to it in a sudden attempt for survival.

That's why I've always thought go has a little in common with poker, in the situation of waiting each other out, although the context is different.

I have decided the best way to do these sundays: play along until the acceleration happens, it is usually when one or both are down to one minute, and the moves start becoming very hard to keep pace with -- from now on I will do until that point, and then concentrate just on the watching of it, as the keeping up was so frantic I wasn't seeing what was actually going on, no time at that stage. If that is alright with you.

Oh, and black won, by half a point.

reassertion of beauty by 1 HACO recording

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Wed, 13 Apr 2011 14:32:00 +0000

It's been quite a year already, enough already has happened, to keep several years well stocked with event. And this past month, it's ridiculous. And the feeling that it is not over, is ongoing, is resonance with resonance of reverberating chaos form strewn splayed / / through all space.

So it becomes important to keep reasserting a bit of beauty here and then when possible.

I got this cd from somewhere called "mole jazz" when I was a student (very briefly) in London. This song, the last on the album, always overwhelmed me. Now I know it is based on Okinawan song principles, which I take mainly to be the recursive with additions character of this song, that allows the feeling -- what is the feeling? -- a brittle happy-sad combined thing that could be said to be life itself, in a little example format -- go back and forth as waves do and accumulate a yearning-based emotion, a little outlet, then it's in once more, and opposite, repeat.

Haco also had a band called "after dinner", check their live stuff which should be visible as one of the "related video" things, one of many pathways, as the tubes provide and we follow, trace your own path anyway, and try to emit kindness, I consider this important, if I may please.

PAUSE [-interval] allow some, ACKNOWLEDGE, blast RADIANT GROUND

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Mon, 11 Apr 2011 05:46:00 +0000

Dear
Swathe
Dead
Broad
Wound
-(and surroundings)-

Seems inappropriate but I didn't know what else to do. Why not. Haino Keiji's tribute prayer poem thing to mark Derek Bailey's death, from here -- it seems a bit ridiculous perhaps, but so is what happened and all THE SITUATIONS, so, I quote:

That, which while enfolding this now and present perfume, speaks, 'I will use to the fullest this form bestowed upon me' and blurs into the firmament - ah, where and in what form will it next be devised

-- what make of it?

reassertion of beauty by 1 不失者 recording

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Fri, 08 Apr 2011 10:44:00 +0000

You want to be around for, approximately precisely, from: 3:58... wherein the guitar stirs, that first note peals, a tone in space, that was a sort of evoked quiet, and peels itself as it where off and on again, as in, a cosmic decal; it may seem a bit direct at first, but then tails behind it a little slight thing, that later evokes the latter passages, of when the stirring began, and where it ended up, well it just goes just where it ought to ・・・ I like to rise the volume in conjunction with the risen force as it happens

This is when FUSHITSUSHA had an extra guitarist, providing the swelling underrhythm. Do you like from around 9:35 when the above and below seem to meet?

(This second guitarist, Maki Miura went on to form the band SHIZUKA with his wife. She died recently unfortunately. Or last year. A few of the more battered japanese underground musicians are ceasing to be. Rumours of a prescription medicine with adverse effects ・・・)

Although it says "untitled" on the video, I am pretty sure the title of this song is [好きにやればいい]　

And I am pretty sure there is another version of this song on the 2nd fushitsusha live album　・・・

碁盤 among this radiance

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Mon, 04 Apr 2011 11:27:00 +0000

For example, here is our goban, go table, whatever you want to call it. It once belonged to a grandfather, then it was used (rather criminally) as a foot rest. Now we have received it very gratefully and use it with a sort of kindness and respect. We are very fond of this gorgeous block of wood.

But I cannot take a good photo of it yet. Perhaps it should have been more properly aligned with the tatami. Certainly in fact. I will take better photos later. Also I have very wobbly hands of late.

I followed a game shown on the tv, sunday noon. I don't know the names of the players though. In fact our tv is so very small, and "analogue" and nowadays it is expected that you have a vast tv, and that it is "digital" so honestly most text on tv can no longer be read. Black won. A woman player. White was a 7dan youngish nervous man. The woman became distraught from time to time (head in hands), I wondered whether she was Cho Chikun's pupil, he is famous for being distraught and muttering to himself and sometimes bashing his face in. White was quite valiant but had made a mistake in the jouseki at the upper right. I think that's what the commentators said.

Thoughts on following along with a game on tv: it is quite tense and strenuous to do, particularly in the end game. Things get very quick. Also, sometimes the tv is mainly showing the commentators, who are trying out various sequences, so you have to wait until you are shown the actual board and then catch up. Frenzied. I was quite giddy by the end.

Thoughts on playing on such a proper goban: you must sit straight (seiza) in order to properly see the board's surface. No slouching. It is a practical thing, not some aesthetic ceremonious thing or whatever. It is like always being around one of those western yogic health food jogger types, who always comment on your bad posture. They are always a bit prematurely aged, pruneish. But the goban is not annoying like those people. It is like having a kindly grandperson, generous with sweets.

I will now place the photo securely below:

I will write more about go, and supply you with better photos, of the tremulous beauty called the goban, like, later. Look like, for example, a better photo, already, so soon!

~ or is it better even, I can't tell? reveals more of the structure, for sure. So then it is better. Or? / and a bit dizzying angle tho . . .

compulsory cat revive among this radiance

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Mon, 04 Apr 2011 10:39:00 +0000

I have a mobile phone thing now,it can take photos, there are other things it can do I suppose, but I haven't a clue.

I don't know how people manage, like I go out for a wee stroll that becomes a giddy sort of event then the next day is as though a come down. It may be better just to stay indoors forever. I am as pale as a geisha.

Or perhaps I could learn to stroll around with the nonchalance of a cat.

Mainly I got a phone because for emergencies. Sometimes there is transmitted (from where what whom I don't know) an earthquake warning. It is a shrill and very urgent buzz and is terrifying.

This year has already offered up so many dangers and sadness, swarming over all the earth. They are coming quick now and overlap. A reverberation of crisis.

Nothing will end. Everything will remain incomplete.

Why, I may share with you more photos of recent expeditions. Then I will reveal a series of haino keiji studies. Then I will impress you with a triangulation of concepts that shows how everything can be assembled anew for these times. Then I will write about some books. Then I will become fully ill at long last and soak into my death with an abundance of morphine.

chin-chin

plutonium peep, MARCH 29th

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Mon, 28 Mar 2011 18:37:00 +0000

"A week after a nuclear weapons test in China, iodine 131 could be detected in the thyroid glands of deer in Colorado, although it could not be detected in the air or in nearby vegetation."

-- almost as though radiation is a try for a connection, like wanting to hug anyone, you are so desperate for contact, you invade, irradiate, what you can.

Let's reach well within one another, and each gain their own purchase.

welcome to, where we are very friendly, want to get in each others pants, the farewell party.

1 image in its mid process

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Sun, 27 Mar 2011 13:56:00 +0000

eve ↔ morn , march 24th,25th

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Thu, 24 Mar 2011 17:15:00 +0000

It's been hard to tell whether it is my primed sensor curtain quivering or my hallucinating fearful self constantly watching the curtain, tense, sensing possibly each possible possibly a quiver, of whatever it is primed to sense, I forget after a while.

Anyway if you look at one thing long enough it seems to tremble, as though it notes your glances and gets shy a bit. Pure things like some animals, when they are mentally unwell (for example) don't think to disguise the signs that occur. We do. Not just for that example (mentally unwell), for any state you can think of, you can find an example among the human horde that shows disguising of that state. It is not worth providing examples of this. Just ruminate for 10 seconds.

But in any case things quiver, they shake, just as 50s rock and roll predicted.

It's sort of stupid but one of the first things I mentioned (over-excitedly) once reunited with wife woman was that constantly quivering hook in ILL SEEN ILL SAID by mr.Beckett (first of all I described escaping the shower etc) I thought it was important at the time (the hook, or a key?). Because, but, of course it isn't important yet after the 11th March afternoon there was a constant sway and quiver in all experience.

I found just today there is something called "disembarkment syndrome" or, as wikipedia says grandly: Mal de debarquement

I experienced my very first nose bleed after the 11th March. But all sorts of weird stuff was going on, rumbles of no source in the night, a sudden mouse presence, a highly strung cat doing circuits of our housing black (he/she continues); recently I have seen some raccoons foraging in the nearby gardens.

But we proceed lucky through the swathe happened above us in terms of the earth's surface where there happened right on there absolute displacement; I can't think how they will manage the earth after all that. (with toughness I suppose)

---
Look , here is a song, it is a cover, of a song, by aihiyo a now inactive haino keiji band, they just did covers. This is a cover of a 70s pop-type (is it pop) song by a japanese singer called "peter" (is he called peter? - or ピーター？ＹＥＳ) and it is more like enka, than pop, or is it inbetween, and the singer is a man who prefers to be a woman here is it on youtube / as link/

here is the aihiyo (哀秘謡）version, turn the bass up if you can,that is where the ghosts are.

lovely hesitance before the chord, as it were . . . & voice asserts bass reverb presence. The subtle hidden snap assertive drums! The chorus switch part (if there is one) is so funereal, and just like you would think something would sound like, having the title "between night and morning" ... then there is a reassertion of the song (2nd verse,we would otherwise say), and surely the rhythm which is as something falling down very elegantly has seeped into your listener being . . . and the final chorus lone assertion that continues into fade and silence. (buzz of amplified instruments recreates lonely night alone silent sounds, don't they?)

・・・ have pity on the dead, pray for the dead ・・・

whir wren MARCH 20th, fore/aft

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Sun, 20 Mar 2011 15:20:00 +0000

There is beside me a curtain draping the front of a kind of shelving, this curtain has been expertly primed to quiver in response to earth rut. My tremblor sensor.

Earthquakes often seem to start as a wee flutter then build to a slamming rattle.

The wee quiver will give me time to put some trousers on, if I am not wearing trousers.

The song "donald where's your trousers", notably used in a near-last episode of "terminator: the sarah connor chronicles" which was a good TV series for the most part, cruelly cut short.

This song was sung by an "AI" that was, I think, a rival to "skynet", purposefully nurtured by the singer of the band "garbage" who was actually a T1000 (the liquidy one) who - or that - had travelled back in time, to, as I say, nurture the "AI", in order that it would sing "donald where's your trousers" : a youtube link

"I nay had on trousers"

I had been collecting examples of glitches on google books (it's a thrilling life) (or maybe from internet in general, the thrill makes precise details hard to recall) here is something about suicide helplines or something:

here is a handy close-up isolate of relevant glitch with bonus pink strip because I am pleasant like that / like this:

I speculate that the suicide rate here will decrease a little. Because emergencies of this sort strip away certain personal problems. Everyone has a capability to thrive in sudden unusual circumstances, as long as such circumstances do not directly persecute you (for example, if you were suddenly interred in a bully-world of precise calibration). And birth rate will increase around December 2011, January 2012, I also predict (blackouts, conservation of electricity, the tremours of fright requiring particular soothings) (smooch)

the now and that, march 17th

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Thu, 17 Mar 2011 09:58:00 +0000

I was thinking about radiation, whereby there is a sort of invitation, that where there in follows the meeting, in the body, a handshake let's say, passes, between the radiation and the irradiated things, cells of organs, for example (I'm no expert). They shake hands on their promise to colloborate on cancer. I suppose it is considered a chance to thrive. And so fate is a promise of the past to the future. Centred around a specific location and entity, for example the body. The irradiated body is a scene of promise.

I was just thinking about this recently, that's all, given the situation (or the promised situation, mired in shrill media typical hype -- or is it? How to know) /that was a question.

Of course, it is all in Robert Duncan, Ground Work 1&2 -- here is an example, granted me by google books (my mother once kindly got this for me, at christmas, from off my wishlist, but instead therewas delivered a book of mainly photographs, and the photographs were of (very lovely) furniture made by those white people who invaded america. They made great furniture) (the bottom bit, of the poem, is partly what I mean)

in any case, staying here of course, thick and thin etc. Old Chapp. And? If anyone is feeling generous, send me Robert Duncan's Ground Work, ta very much, for succour in this crisis that is uncertain here, and certain elsewhere, sad daft life and that, here there.

earth and quake rut

noreply@blogger.com (MALALE) — Fri, 11 Mar 2011 06:55:00 +0000

Dear earth, I ~~(know)~~-- ((I wrote firstly KNOW, i think I wanted to write "no" as in "no longer" but the know I have a feeling that is important. obviously know and now are frequent errors but know and no?)) now no longer believe in you.

Also, I knew there'd be a mega-quake while I am having a shower. Having to dry oneself among mega-rattle wall and floor squelch is a long running nightmare now real (so therefore less frightening) (actually everything is suddenly less frightening).

It was an opportunity, after I put some clothes on, to make friends with the old ladies I am living among. They say it is the strongest they have ever felt, in tokyo.

The earth is breaking, one of them said.

These quite old buildings are still standing and should feel proud of themselves.